Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

After the Faceless Ones pronounced Euron's nature as being contrary to their path, the deathly silence in the hall seemed to gain weight, making it hard to breathe. However, the strange flame in Euron Greyjoy's eyes did not go out; instead, it burned even more intensely.

Euron Greyjoy did not back down despite being seen through; instead, he took a half-step forward, his voice low and provocative:

"Since neither buying nor selling nor conversion is a smooth path," he said slowly, his gaze fixed intently on the messenger of death before him, "is there another possibility? Could the Thousand-Faced God or his servants... gain friendship? Or, could a mortal somehow ensure that he will never appear on your 'delivery list'? Is there no third way besides cold transactions and utter self-annihilation?"

His question transcended simple fear or employment, touching upon the edge of establishing some special connection with this absolute force of death. It was not a plea for mercy, but a more arrogant attempt to find a vague and dangerous third place beyond the opposing identities of "employer" and "target."

The faceless one who had spoken earlier remained silent, his eyes, as calm as an ancient well, showing no emotion whatsoever, as if the question itself were meaningless.

Just then, the shadow on the other side silently slid open like a curtain.

Another faceless figure stepped out. He wore a hooded robe, the right half black and the left half white, seemingly shrouded in an ancient and unsettling silence. As he came to face the three, Lisa and Dagmer's eyes widened in horror. They saw, beneath the hood, his face a yellow skull covered in skin, with white maggots crawling from its eye sockets.

Euron reacted calmly. The bloodline of the Grey Sea King granted him the ability to see through all illusions with his black left eye, allowing him to see the true appearance of the priest.

He didn't look at Euron, but walked straight to the deep pool, scooping up a small amount of the dark water with a bone-white bowl. Then, he turned to Euron, offering the bowl with a slow, ceremonial motion. "Drink." His voice was dry, like the scraping of a tombstone, and he spoke in the common language of Westeros.

A benevolent man, a priest serving the Many-Faced God in the House of Black and White, and the only one in the House of Black and White who speaks the Common Tongue of Westeros. All indications suggest that he is the head of the House of Black and White, or rather, the highest-ranking person there.

Euron's heterochromatic pupils narrowed slightly. After only a moment's hesitation, he took the bowl and drank the icy, bitter water with a faint metallic taste in one gulp. The water flowed down his throat as if a line of ice had pierced his stomach, followed by a strange sense of clarity.

Euron slowly closed his eyes and drank the murky, unknown liquid in one gulp. The cold sensation slid down his throat, instantly igniting an inner heat. The world around him rapidly faded and collapsed, his consciousness abruptly dragged into an endless, suffocating ocean of darkness.

He felt that bone-chilling cold once more, the seawater like a giant, icy hand squeezing his chest, his lungs burning with pain—the despair of struggling and drowning in the "Huang Zhengdao" sea. Then, the icy sensation was replaced by a strange "resurrection," as if an invisible force had forcibly dragged him back from eternal silence. Salty seawater gushed from his mouth and nose, and the faint cheers of the Iron People for the drowning ceremony echoed in his ears.

It was precisely on this blurred line between life and death that an ancient and alluring whisper resounded directly from the depths of his soul, as if echoing from the abyss itself:

"Death... is the gentlest gift..."

"Death...is the sole end of all suffering in the world..."

"Death... is the eternal gateway to liberation for mortals..."

The voice was ethereal and otherworldly, yet it possessed a power that pierced the heart: "Are you... afraid of death? Are you afraid... of finally embracing this eternal tranquility?"

Just as his consciousness was about to succumb to the temptation of eternal slumber, a surge of the oldest pride and resentment from his bloodline erupted from the deepest part of his subconscious! It was not thought, but the most instinctive and intense roar against fate!

"All men must die!" His will, like the hardest rock, shattered the intoxicating whispers. "But my death is not today! This world will continue to function as it always has—but it will be more magnificent than ever before because of my existence!"

"boom--"

As if in response to this defiant declaration, the [Grey Sea King] bloodline dormant deep within his veins boiled violently! His heart pounded like a war drum, each beat pumping out scalding blood imbued with ancient power. Subtle yet clear crackling sounds began to explode in the air around him, and faint arcs of electricity, like tiny blue snakes, appeared out of thin air, leaping and flickering around his body. A sea breeze rose unexpectedly, whipping his hair and robes, carrying with it the scent of ozone and the roar of the ocean.

Euron suddenly opened his eyes.

His right eye remained cold, while his left eye had turned into a pure, bottomless blackness, as if connected to the abyss of eternal night. It no longer reflected any light and seemed to devour everything around it, including light and sound.

At this moment, the faceless one, the kind-hearted man, slowly raised his hand.

In his palm, a rough, ancient, and heavy iron coin had appeared out of nowhere. It had no exquisite engravings, only a blurry outline of a human skull on one side and a skull pattern resembling an ape on the other, exuding an incomparably ancient and pure aura of death.

The Faceless One placed the iron coin in Euron's hand. The coin felt icy cold to the touch, yet it seemed to burn his skin. "This is not a promise to you, nor is it your protection. This is a... mark."

For the first time, he raised his eyes and looked directly at Euron. In the depths of those absolutely empty eyes, Euron seemed to see billions of distorted faces flash by and then vanish into nothingness.

"All men must die, and you are no exception."

The Faceless One's voice remained steady, yet carried an unprecedented, almost divine weight: "But your death... its form, its timing, its significance, have long been observed by those above us. You are not a pawn of fate; you are the turbulent core of the storm's eye. Countless threads of destiny have been entangled, broken, and reshaped because of you. Take it, remember the taste of this water. When the true 'price' arrives, when there is no other way... perhaps you can find your way back here."

Having said what he needed to say, the Faceless One left expressionlessly, as if he had never been there. The meaning behind his words was obscure and profound; he did not promise friendship, but clearly indicated that Euron was someone watched over by some higher being—"God."

A person who is watched by the Thousand-Faced God will not become the target of assassination by the Faceless Ones who serve the Thousand-Faced God.

Euron carefully put away the iron coin. This coin meant he wouldn't be on the Faceless Men's assassination list—an unexpected bonus. No one wants to be constantly watched by a skilled assassin, and the Faceless Men were the best assassins on both continents.