Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

276AC

The salty, cold sea breeze of Ironman's Bay was now imbued with the burning scent of gold and power. Park City's docks had never been so bustling; merchant ships from the Seven Kingdoms and even across the Narrow Sea formed a forest of masts, their sails obscuring the sky. The dull thuds of planks against the stone shore, the sailors' calls, the haggling of merchants, and the clinking of gold and silver coins mingled together to create an unprecedented symphony of wealth, uniquely Greyjoy's. The air was thick with the scents of spices, whale oil, rust, and a new, heart-pounding aroma—the scent of gold.

In just one year, the once empty port has been completely transformed.

In the vast study of the core fortress of Pike City, overlooking the bustling harbor and the deep seastone hall, a silent storm had long since subsided. Coron Greyjoy, the King of the Seastone, like an ancient reef retreating to the eye of the storm, personally placed the two heavy seals symbolizing the core of power—one a roaring sea monster surrounded by salt crystal patterns, the other a bloodstained battle axe bound with chains—on the large black stone desk.

"Take it." Corren's voice was deep, carrying a complex meaning of both relieving a heavy burden and entrusting the future to someone else. His gaze, as deep as the ocean, fell on his young son across the desk. "The gift of salt, the ancient road of the sea. The future course of the Iron Islands is in your hands."

Across the table stood Euron Greyjoy, only six years old. His deep murky green krait robes already fit him perfectly, making him appear as tall and straight as a young cedar. He didn't immediately take the two seals that would drive any lord mad; he merely nodded slightly, his heterochromatic eyes calm and unwavering, as if he were receiving two ordinary pebbles. That composure beyond his years caused the old maester Clygon, standing in the corner, to unconsciously tighten his grip on his necklace once more, and also caused a barely perceptible glint to flash in Lisa's emerald eyes, who remained as silent as the deep sea.

A year ago, when this five-year-old boy proposed the "Platinum Sands" strategy amidst a storm of skepticism, no one believed him. "Give me a year and I'll give it a try!" Now, with irrefutable results, he has turned all voices into submission and awe.

Salt rights form the basis, and the chains are invisible.

The sacred aura of "Platinum Sands" did not intoxicate Euron with its illusory blessings. He was as clear-headed as a blade on a reef, forging divine grace into the coldest commercial scepter and chains of rule.

Any lord or merchant guild wishing to purchase "Platinum Sands" must first acquire several times their quota of ordinary sea salt from Pike City! "The Anchor of Binding." This was his first ironclad rule. This ordinary sea salt, though initially processed and far superior in quality to the bitter coarse salt of other islands, remained grayish-white and inexpensive. This binding, like a heavy anchor, firmly linked buyers of "Platinum Sands" to Pike City's most basic and largest salt production. Earl Gilmond Portley of Salt Hill Island had attempted to resist. Owning the largest salt fields in the Iron Islands, how could he tolerate the dumping of Pike City's coarse salt? He cunningly hoarded his own coarse salt, refusing to buy Pike City's salt. The result? He not only lost his eligibility to purchase "Platinum Sands," but also lost the channel to exchange "Platinum Sands" for gold and grain from the mainland, watching helplessly as Salt Hill Island's warehouses overflowed with unwanted bitter coarse salt, his wealth slipping through his fingers like sand. The salt workers' resentment and the land's dire straits ultimately forced him to lower his proud head. This bond ensured that Pike City's salt fields would never experience a shortage of salt, and it also tightly linked the economic lifelines of all the islands to Pike City, making them share both prosperity and adversity.

The second ironclad rule was to erect a formidable price barrier. Coarse, greyish-white sea salt flowed cheaply to the commoners' stoves and fish-curing barrels in the Iron Islands, sustaining their basic livelihoods. "White Gold Sands," however, was crafted into a luxury item reserved only for royalty, wealthy merchants, and the Holy See. The snow-white, crystalline salt grains were packaged in specially made small crystal bottles or exquisitely carved wooden boxes, imprinted with the emblem of the Drowned God and the Kraken of Greyjoy; each grain seemed to embody divine grace and the essence of the sea. Euron intended to make White Gold Sands a luxury item, something unaffordable only for the noble and wealthy.

Price? Ten times that of coarse salt is just the starting point! In King's Landing, in Oldtown, in Braavos, a small bottle of "White Gold Sand" is worth its weight in silver! This is blatant plundering of wealth, exploiting the aura of faith and absolute quality monopoly to extract astonishing profits from the tables of the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms, from the treasuries of the Prince of Dorne, and from the ledgers of the Iron Bank of Braavos. Gold flows like a tamed tide, ceaselessly into the treasuries of Pyke.

Subsequently, Euron seized the opportunity to establish the Ice and Fire Merchant Guild (whose tentacles had quietly extended to the major ports on both sides of the Narrow Sea), announcing to all potential buyers: Want to buy the Iron Islands' "White Gold Sands"? You can! But you must also buy salt produced in the Iron Islands! Whether it's the "Gifted Salt" of Pike City or coarse salt from other islands, as long as it comes from the Iron Islands! Any attempt to purchase salt from other sources to replace Iron Salt, once discovered, will result in permanent disqualification from purchasing "White Gold Sands"! Monopoly is the key to setting prices, and that's the most profitable method! This is Euron's third ironclad rule: the blade of monopoly.

These three directives, like a sword of Damocles hanging over their heads, forced all merchants and lords coveting "White Gold Sands" to fix their purchasing focus firmly on the Iron Islands. This not only solidified Pike City's absolute pricing power over iron salt but also tied the entire islands' salt production to Greyjoy's cause, greatly increasing the bargaining power and overall value of all iron salt. Even the coarse salt from Salt Hill Island, simply because it was "from the Iron Islands," saw its price soar. Earl Gilmond, though filled with mixed feelings, undeniably received a share of the profits, and his will to resist quietly melted away in the face of real money.

Ancient path, new power; sharp blade in hand.

Euron wielded another power granted by King Coron—the allocation of plundering rights under the "New Regulations of the Ancient Roads"—with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel. He divided the "New Regulations of the Ancient Roads" into different levels of sea areas and routes, issuing "plundering licenses" of varying values ​​based on each island's loyalty, contributions (especially the enforcement of salt taxes and kidnapping policies), and past "discipline" in plundering (strictly prohibiting contact with ships from the Seven Kingdoms). Loyal islands that made significant contributions, such as Dunstan Drogo of Great Wake Island, which was closely allied with the island through marriage and salt quotas, often received the "golden route" leading to merchant ships or slave-trading fleets laden with spices and silk. Those that wavered and failed to comply, such as Belon of Kuroshio Island, which had once outwardly complied but inwardly resisted, might only receive high-risk, low-profit marginal routes, or even be relegated to harassing impoverished fishing villages. The allocation of licenses was done through Euron, because only he knew all the route information transmitted by his spies.

This information acts like invisible reins, directing the Iron Islands' plundering forces and transforming their destructive power into tools for targeted wealth acquisition, firmly serving Pike City's overall strategy. A percentage of the loot must be handed over to Pike City as "management fees," while the Ice and Fire Merchant Guild becomes the largest conduit for selling stolen goods and resupplying them, collecting money on one hand and selling goods on the other, thus controlling the flow of black gold.

A Song of Ice and Fire, a symphony of black and white, the banner of the "Ice and Fire Guild" features a sea monster formed of ice on one side and a battle axe wreathed in flames on the other, making them a new force that has attracted attention on both sides of the Narrow Sea.

On the surface, it operated a "legitimate" business: transporting salt (especially bundled common salt), ironware, and salted fish from the Iron Islands to the mainland in exchange for grain, timber, cloth, and luxury goods; then transporting mainland goods back to the islands for distribution. Its true profit-making core, however, lay hidden beneath the surface: the efficient distribution of "spoils of war" plundered from the islands—from Braavos's adamantite ingots to Dorne's sunset wine, from Myr's lace to Summer Isles' ivory; simultaneously providing the Ironborn fleet with precise intelligence (partly from "eyes" controlled by poison and Ironborn blades), secure supply ports, and much-needed repairs and armaments. It laundered black gold with its left hand and supplied the butcher's knife with its right, weaving a vast web covering economics and violence. In just one year, its accumulated wealth, according to the parchment scrolls trembling with calculations by the old Maester Clygon in the dim candlelight, far exceeded the total revenue from all the plundering and trade of the Greyjoy family over the previous ten years! As if summoned by magic, gold coins flooded the once-empty warehouses and cellars of Pike City.

King Coron stood before the enormous stone window of his study, gazing at the bustling harbor, the mountains of cargo crates piled beneath the castle, and listening to the faint clinking of gold coins. His rough fingers unconsciously traced the cold stone windowsill. A year ago, the five-year-old boy who had thrown out a shocking salt policy in the Storm Council, met with skepticism, now sat as still as a rock at the center of the power chessboard. He had silenced the voices of faith with the "gift of the drowning gods," chained the economy with bundled sales, built a wall of wealth with monopolies, grasped the reins of violence with precise plunder and distribution, and orchestrated a symphony of black and white with the Ice and Fire Merchant Guild. Every step was precise, ruthless, and effective. The voices of doubt had long since crumbled into bubbles before the tide of gold and absolute control.

Many lords even suggested that Euron be made their heir!