After twenty days of sailing, the Drinker, like a black blade, had sliced through more than sixty percent of the Narrow Sea's unknown waters and entered the colder, more mysterious Shivering Sea.
When the magnificent Titan of Braavos, known as the guardian of the city, erged from the sea mist like a mountain, looking down with eternal vigilance at every ship passing beneath, Euron knew the first stage of the journey was over. He was about to arrive in Braavos.
Cold system prompts floated silently deep in his consciousness:
[Exploration: Your voyage crossed the Narrow Sea, obtained 320 Points.]
[Exploration: You discovered the Shivering Sea, obtained 120 Points.]
[Exploration: You discovered the Titan of Braavos, obtained 60 Points.]
[Exploration: You discovered Braavos, obtained 120 Points.]
Total: 620 Points. Added to the remaining 30, his total points reached 650.
On his first day in Braavos, Euron t the Red Viper and also t with Malyo.
The residence Malyo arranged for Euron was in the Purple Harbor district—prosperous, safe, and convenient. However, Euron did not imdiately step into that comfortable nest.
Late at night, Euron moved like a ghost, quickly shuttling along the mist-shrouded canals. His gaze swept over distinct locations: the Green Eel Inn, slling of fish and ale where sailors gathered; the Black Ship Workshop, slling of tung oil and rust, echoing with shipwrights' laughter; the small Temple of Moqorro worshiping so exotic god with incense smoke; the Outcast's Inn gathering the frustrated and exiled; the Sept-Beyond-the-Sea flickering with scholarly candles and debate; and the Cattery Brothel shrouded in ambiguous lights and soft whispers...
An indescribable restlessness, or perhaps a paranoia for "completion," drove him into the noisy alleys at dusk.
He was not there for pleasure, but for a unique "pilgrimage." Euron wanted to round up his current points to a whole number. Before starting his travels, he would use the Pirate King System's lucky draw to give himself an extra edge.
Every ti he stepped into a place, he paused briefly to feel its unique atmosphere. Faint prompts of point growth sounded in his mind—5 points, 10 points... These fragnted gains, like the last scattered pieces of a puzzle, precisely pushed his total points to the satisfying integer mark of 700. As if completing a necessary ritual, he returned to his residence contentedly.
Inside the closed room, candlelight flickered. Euron dismissed his attendants, sinking his mind into the mysterious system interface. A full 700 points evaporated instantly, turning into seven dazzling streams of light that tore the veil of reality.
1. [Eternal Pose] An ancient, broken bronze compass appeared in his hand. Its needle did not point north but stubbornly, tremblingly pointed to a distant, fixed direction, silently telling of an eternal coordinate.
No explanation of where it points. Useless for now.
2. [Tashigi's Glasses] A pair of goggles with smooth lines and eerie deep purple lenses. Wearing them made no difference to how you saw the world.
"Lysa, here, put this on."
"..."
"Wear it in front of your eyes, yes, like that, hook it over your ears."
"..."
"Mm, looks good!"
"Does it? I feel silly."
"What do you know, this is called 'moe', very cute... Cough~~ Is this the attitude for receiving a gift?"
"Oh, thank you for the gift, Master. Lysa is very happy."
3. [Skypiea Pumpkin] A massive pumpkin with strange cloud patterns and a pale blue hue on its skin, emitting a sweet and unfamiliar scent, seemingly not a mortal crop.
4. [Scapegoat Straw Doll] A palm-sized doll crudely tied with withered black straw, emitting a faint mix of ominous and protective aura. Automatically triggers during a fatal crisis to take one instance of deadly misfortune in your place.
5. [Pirate King System: 9 Cubic ter Space] An independent void area opened in his consciousness. With a thought, the items just obtained vanished instantly, reappearing at his will. Like an extension of his arm.
6. [Sea Pork Hormone Soup] A sealed stone jar. When opened, an extrely rich sll mixed with the sweetness of the ocean and intense life energy wafted out. A "Revival" soup that eliminates chill, dispels fatigue, and quickly restores stamina and strength to a body exhausted by cold.
7. [Skill: Nitoryu (Two-Sword Style) - Lv.1] This was not simply holding a knife in each hand, but a combat philosophy rooted deep in blood and soul, sublimating slaughter into cruel art. When this ability rged with Euron's will, all mysteries of balance, rhythm, and the symphony of killing blasted open.
Euron's consciousness seed torn apart and reassembled. Countless combat images of dual-wielding flooded in like a tide—no longer the wild hacking customary to Ironborn, but another kind of suprely precise dance of slaughter. He instantly understood how to turn two blades (whether longsword and dagger, or two distinct curved sabers) into extensions of his will. One for offense, one for defense, yet switching roles in an instant to form a ceaseless storm of death.
Each weapon possessed an independent "life," yet was perfectly integrated under his singular mind. Left hand drawing a circle, right hand stabbing a square; parrying and slashing simultaneously; using the impact force of one weapon to create a killing angle for the other... All these techniques were branded into his neural reflexes like innate instincts.
The core of this art lay in creating undefendable "intervals." When an opponent fully blocked the assault of one weapon, the other would strike quietly like a viper from the blind spot of their vision and thought, reaching the fatal flaw. It required split focus, absolute control of distance, and the manic courage to place oneself in danger to secure a kill.
For Euron, this skill arrived at the perfect ti. It perfectly compensated for his slight lack of pure strength, tempering his combat style from the wildness of a sea raider into a deadly aesthetic combining power, guile, and extre efficiency, more suited to the complex environnt of Essos. Where dual blades danced, a path of blood opened for him.
Euron Greyjoy walked on the slick stone pavent, steps steady. The [Scapegoat Straw Doll] in his tunic emitted a faint, reassuring chill, while the exquisite variations of [Skill: Nitoryu] flowed silently in his mind, giving him the confidence to face the unknown.
Behind him, Lysa now wore the strangely lined, deep purple [Tashigi's Glasses] on her nose, silently observing subtle changes in energy flow around them. Dagr Cleftjaw was like a vigilant war hound, rough hand always on his sword hilt, eyes full of instinctive distrust for this heathen city.
"Rest well. Tomorrow, we go to see the legendary Faceless n!"
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