Chereads / Game of Thrones: Lord of the Flames / Chapter 116 - Chapter 117: Driving Them Back

Chapter 116 - Chapter 117: Driving Them Back

"Euron Greyjoy! Are the Iron Islands rebelling against the Iron Throne?"

Horas Redwyne's voice sounded weak and strained against the fury of the storm.

Euron merely smirked, completely disregarding such questions. With a single swift motion, he leapt onto the deck, dodging a swing from one of Horas' soldiers.

Swish—

In a flash, his distinctively curved blade pierced another soldier's chest and then tore upwards.

Thick, dark blood sprayed everywhere as the soldier's head and neck split open, his headless body left standing before Euron.

"What is dead may never die."

Drenched in blood, Euron appeared as a demon from hell, terrifying the remaining Arbor soldiers into immobility.

"I'll make sure you die!"

Horas roared and charged forward with his sword.

Clang—

Steel met steel, yet Horas's heart sank as he realized that Euron's blade held no strength behind it.

Just then, a massive wave slammed into the ship, tilting it heavily.

Unsteady on his feet, Horas was thrown forward. Euron, on the other hand, moved up the slanted deck as though gravity didn't affect him, his every step impossibly controlled.

They passed each other in a split second.

A sharp, stabbing pain exploded from Horas's left shoulder, forcing a cry of agony from him.

Luckily, he wore light armor, so while Euron's blade had struck at the joint, it didn't fully penetrate, catching instead.

But Horas was thrown off balance, slamming hard against the rail.

"What is dead may never die, but rises again…"

Euron laughed and prepared to finish him off.

But just then, his eerie blue eye suddenly contracted.

Wham!

A battle axe struck where Euron had just been, ripping a gaping hole in the deck.

As wooden splinters flew, Samwell fixed his gaze on that black-cloaked figure, determined to pursue.

Though he would have loved for both Redwyne brothers to perish at the pirates' hands, he couldn't let them die now.

Their soldiers needed them for command, and infighting with such an enemy at hand would be foolish.

Samwell smashed aside another Ironborn in his path, yet Euron still remained just out of reach.

Seeing Samwell's raw strength, Euron avoided direct confrontation, gliding effortlessly across the wildly tilting deck. His movements defied all logic, leaving Samwell's brute force nowhere to land.

Damn it!

Samwell realized that fighting Crow's Eye here in the storm-lashed sea was a grave mistake.

Out on these tempestuous waters, Euron was completely in his element.

So he chose to stop wasting energy on pursuit. He positioned himself firmly, shield in one hand, battle axe in the other, waiting for Euron to make the first move.

At that moment, Euron dangled from a rope on the broken mast, cackling down at Samwell with a crazed grin.

"What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!"

The instant he finished speaking, lightning slashed across the night sky, blinding everyone.

Just then, a massive wave lifted the ship, holding it suspended for a heartbeat.

Whoosh—

Samwell stumbled, struck by a powerful sense of weightlessness. Panic gripped him when he realized that the black-cloaked figure was gone.

Boom!

The ship crashed back down, the impact sending everyone staggering and collapsing.

Everyone but Euron.

At some point, he had appeared behind Samwell, his curved blade cutting silently towards his neck like the scythe of death.

Swish—

A surge of primal fear prompted Samwell to throw himself to the ground, narrowly avoiding the deadly slash.

But Euron, seizing his advantage, laughed wildly and slashed again.

Samwell scrambled desperately, the pitching deck and Euron's relentless pursuit making it impossible to regain his balance. His axe slipped from his hand, leaving him with only his shield.

Surrounded now by Euron and several Ironborn, Samwell had no choice. He lunged toward the cabin wall with all his strength.

Crash!

The wooden wall splintered, and Samwell tumbled into the room beyond.

Rolling to his feet, he glanced back to see that Euron hadn't followed him.

Taking a breath, he steadied his pounding heart and forced himself back through the gaping hole he'd made.

Rain and wind hammered down, heavy with the stench of blood.

Things were looking grim on deck. The Arbor soldiers were completely outmatched.

Scanning the battlefield, Samwell found Euron locked in combat with Ser Lucas Dayne.

He was about to rush in to help when something caught his eye—a familiar face on his right.

Hobber Redwyne!

The Redwyne second son, clutching his sword, was hiding in the shadows. Noticing Samwell's gaze, he nervously looked away before reluctantly plunging into the melee.

Idiot. I'll deal with you yet.

Samwell cursed silently, watching Hobber's back.

"My lord, your sword!"

Finally, his squire kayutu arrived with the greatsword Dawn.

Samwell dropped the shield, grabbing the sword eagerly.

As his hand closed around the cold hilt, calmness washed over him. Scanning the deck, he roared toward Ser Lucas:

"Lucas! Down!"

Though he heard his lord's voice, Lucas didn't fully understand. Under Euron's relentless pressure, he could hardly spare a thought.

Then he felt a surge of intense heat beside him and looked back to see Samwell drawing Dawn—

The milky white blade began to glow, intricate red-gold lines etching across its surface until they covered the entire sword.

As the greatsword emerged, each line seemed to blaze, each mark emitting a red flame.

From a distance, it appeared that Samwell held a sword of fire!

Even the icy downpour did nothing to quench that blazing light.

The raging winds and waves fell suddenly silent, the violent sea seeming to hold its breath, awaiting something momentous…

The sword was drawn.

Understanding finally dawning, Ser Lucas made a move that would be suicidal under any other circumstances—

He dropped flat to the deck.

But Euron didn't take advantage. Sensing something, he spun around and, without hesitation, threw himself into the pitch-black sea.

Swish—

A torrent of red fire slashed down like a volcanic eruption.

Boom!

A web of lightning shot across the night sky, but it paled in comparison to the red flame of the sword.

Around a dozen Ironborn, along with three or four unlucky Arbor soldiers, were instantly engulfed in flames.

The ship's railing exploded under the impact, sending a storm of burning wood raining into the sea.

Yet Euron had managed to escape, leaving only his singed black cloak drifting on the waves, its golden kraken symbol charred beyond recognition.

For a moment, there was only silence. The remaining combatants stared, transfixed, at the towering figure wielding the blazing greatsword.

In the next instant, the Ironborn snapped out of their shock, diving into the water to flee.

Hooo—

At last, the retreat signal sounded, and the Ironborn ships began to fade into the darkness.

Samwell finally sheathed Dawn.

He knew he was completely drained; it had taken nearly all his strength to unleash that strike. Thankfully, the storm had eased, or he wouldn't have had the energy to keep his footing.

But it was over. The enemy was gone.

The surviving Arbor soldiers erupted in cheers, chanting Samwell's name as they celebrated their survival.

A crescent moon emerged from behind the clouds, casting a gentle light over the newly calmed sea.

(End of Chapter)

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