Pyke.
The Drowned God's Chapel.
Calling it a chapel was generous. In truth, it was little more than an ancient stone fortress.
The structure was rough and cold, weathered by sea winds and layered with salt stains.
Because the chapel itself was too small, the courtyard before it had beco the site of the trial.
At the entrance stood a crude wooden table. Resting atop it was a crown forged from black iron.
The symbol of the ruler of the Iron Islands.
The embodint of the Seastone Chair.
Once the trial ended, it would be placed upon the head of Asha Greyjoy.
On either side of the long table stood two nearly dead weirwood trees.
One was a weirwood.
The other was also a weirwood.
They were only as thick as a grown man's wrist.
Their pale bark was cracked and mottled, while sparse red leaves drooped lifelessly from their branches, completely out of place amid the harsh surroundings.
Rumor said Asha's mother had planted them long ago.
Now they looked close to death. No one knew how much longer they would survive.
At this mont, every captain of the Iron Islands who had received the summons had gathered here.
Each of them stared at Asha standing beside the table and at Galon standing near the weirwoods with different expressions.
So showed respect.
Others curiosity.
Others caution.
And beneath it all lurked fear and calculation.
Rodrik Harlaw stood among them as well.
His eyes shifted toward the Glover soldiers stationed around the courtyard, and he sighed inwardly.
'Asha... Asha... how could you let Northern soldiers into Pyke?'
When he had first received Maester Wendamyr's letter, Rodrik had been stunned.
He never imagined that his niece possessed such courage.
She had secretly returned through hidden sea routes and seized Pyke in one stroke.
At the ti, he had felt genuine pride.
But after arriving at Pyke, he realized reality was nothing like he imagined.
The Northern soldiers had completely taken over the castle. The Ironborn, the supposed masters of the islands, had instead been pushed aside.
Rodrik had imdiately sought out Asha to question her.
Only then did he learn of Galon Glover.
And the way Asha's eyes lit up whenever she ntioned Galon made him even more worried.
He feared she might eventually make an irrational decision.
'Forget it.'
'Once Euron's trial is over, the Glovers will leave.'
'Then I'll persuade Asha to quickly arrange a suitable marriage and stabilize the Iron Islands.'
As Rodrik silently pondered these thoughts, the sound of heavy chains dragging across stone echoed through the courtyard.
Two burly Northern soldiers escorted Euron forward.
His left arm, which Galon had shattered, hung at a grotesque angle.
Because the wound had not been properly treated, the sll of rotting flesh drifted through the air.
Heavy chains bound his legs, forcing him to stagger with every step.
Yet despite his miserable appearance, there was no despair in his remaining eye.
Only pain. Madness.
And overwhelming malice.
Euron was forced to kneel in the center of the courtyard directly before the long table and the dying weirwoods.
Asha stepped forward.
She wore simple leather armor, and her eyes burned with years of hatred and rage.
"The kinslayer Euron murdered my father, King Balon, and stole the Seastone Chair."
"He defied the will of the Drowned God."
"What punishnt should such a man receive?"
Her voice rang sharply through the courtyard. But after she spoke, the captains did not imdiately respond.
An awkward silence lingered for several seconds.
Only when Rodrik suddenly shouted "Execute him!" did the others finally begin to respond.
"Drown him!"
"Offer him to the Drowned God!"
The reaction was scattered and weak.
The atmosphere instantly beca uncomfortable.
Galon watched the scene with faint amusent in his eyes.
Asha, however, reacted far more directly. She yanked out her hand axe and glared at the gathered captains.
"What?"
"Are any of you planning to beg rcy for a kinslayer?"
Naturally, none of the captains wished to defend a defeated man.
They quickly raised their weapons and began shouting loudly, their voices finally overpowering the sound of wind and crashing waves.
Yet amid those cries, Euron suddenly began laughing.
The sound was hoarse, twisted, and filled with contempt.
"Heh... hahaha..."
"A bunch of opportunistic sea maggots..."
He slowly lifted his head.
His eye swept across the captains who once knelt before him as though they were filth.
"You think you can kill ?"
"Then let show you the magic of the gods!"
To everyone's shock, Euron suddenly raised his broken arm and ripped off the eyepatch covering his left eye.
Beneath it was a blackened socket.
Inside floated a pale gray eyeball.
The instant anyone looked at it, an icy wave of pure malice flooded into their minds.
It felt as though their souls themselves were trembling.
Everyone instinctively stepped backward.
Including Galon.
His expression shifted uncertainly as a terrible sense of danger surged through him.
"My dear niece... You want to beco queen?"
"What right do you have?"
"You whore."
"You sold your body and climbed into Glover's bed, and now you think you can beco queen through him?"
"Dream on!"
Euron's madness deepened as invisible power suddenly exploded from his body.
The two Northern soldiers restraining him were thrown aside instantly.
Then he turned toward Galon.
Their eyes t.
"I'll kill you, Galon Glover! I'll kill you!"
"If I kill you, the gods will return everything to ! If I kill you, I regain it all!"
"Die!"
The mont their gazes connected, Galon felt sothing stab directly into his soul.
His instincts scread danger.
Without hesitation, he broke eye contact... But it was already too late.
An invisible wave of magic slamd into him.
Bang!
It felt like being struck by a speeding wagon.
Galon's body flew backward violently.
Crack!
A harsh snapping sound rang out as his body smashed straight through one of the dying weirwoods.
The brittle tree shattered apart.
By pure coincidence, one broken branch landed beside him.
Galon coughed violently, blood spilling from his lips.
"What...is this..."
He struggled to rise.
anwhile, Euron's laughter grew even more deranged.
"Die, Galon!"
Blood began pouring from both his eyes, making him resemble a demon crawling from hell itself.
Another invisible wave surged toward Galon.
"My lord!"
Ron and Mihawk shouted simultaneously.
In the distance, Sparta roared and charged forward recklessly, intending to block the attack with his own body.
Even Asha panicked and hurled her axe toward Euron in an attempt to interrupt him.
But at that mont, Galon felt as though his soul had been frozen by a bottomless abyss made from endless negative emotions.
His body refused to move.
"Move..."
"Move!"
Just as despair began rising within him, sothing changed.
His hand accidentally brushed against the broken weirwood branch beside him.
The pale, lifeless wood suddenly transford the instant he touched it.
A vibrant green glow spread rapidly from the fractured end, covering the entire branch in monts.
The dead wood beca smooth and jade-like.
Even the cold malice around him began to fade away.
At that instant, the Old Gods' blessing upon Galon's soul reacted as though provoked.
The power of the Old Gods awakened.
Almost instinctively, Galon grabbed the transford white branch and raised it before himself.
The invisible magic struck it directly.
Buzz—
No violent collision occurred.
The mont Euron's magic touched the white staff, it lted away like snow beneath sunlight.
The dark power rapidly dissolved with faint hissing sounds, almost like screams of agony.
The entire courtyard froze in shock.
Rodrik, known as the Reader, stared wide-eyed at Galon standing there with the white staff in hand, faint light seemingly surrounding his body.
A forgotten na from ancient Ironborn songs exploded within his mind like thunder.
Rodrik trembled with excitent.
Then he pointed toward Galon and shouted with all his strength.
"It's Galon!"
"Galon White Staff!"
"The legendary servant of the Drowned God who carried the divine staff, judged the wicked, and guided the kingsmoot has returned!"
In an instant, the entire courtyard erupted into chaos.
__________
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