Chapter 116

The accident happened so suddenly.

Perhaps the only person who saw it clearly was Dàifósī; he was close enough to the scene and observant enough, unlike the scholar beside him, whose mind was elsewhere, seemingly only wanting to hurriedly leave the banquet and return to his own castle; he was also not like the drunkard Dèngsītǎn Zhuógǔ, who, after the incident, stood with his mouth wide open, as if he still wanted to ask Dàifósī what had just happened.

It happened too quickly, causing no disturbance.

"Seize him!" the king shouted.

The king's white-haired bastard son, without panic, led the guards to apprehend the hapless guest standing stunned on the spot, immediately subduing him on the floor covered with a wool blanket.

After pressing the unfortunate guest to the ground, the white-haired bastard son grabbed his hair, pulling his face up toward the high king, revealing a mocking expression. He resembled the king at least somewhat.

The king felt his chest, pulled the purple hidden weapon from his chest with force, then took off his outer robe, revealing the scale armor inside that glimmered with a smoky gray light.

Each scale exuded a soul‑capturing aura.

"The Quell's miserable assassin actually tracked me to my Iron Islands; if it weren't for this Valyrian steel armor, I'd really be in trouble! You can become a priest of the Drowned God and still take part in today's ceremony—it seems many are helping you, what a bunch of overconfident bastards. Or perhaps, even in Quell there are mongrels who have turned to the Drowned God?"

The quiet hall regained a hint of tense whispering; only then did most people realize that what had just occurred was a round of assassination.

"I have no habit of worshiping evil gods," he replied provocatively.

The hall erupted in chaotic noise; Davos heard most often the furious cry "Skin him!", followed by various shouts of "Drown him!"

"Hahaha," the king laughed madly, "Perhaps you should change your habit. Tell me, how much is the unfortunate guest's organization willing to spend to ransom you?" Euron, seeming mad, sat alone on the throne and shouted loudly.

Everyone in the tent stopped what they were doing, held their tongues, and waited silently for the assassin to speak.

"Most people would choose spices over silver or incense equal to my body weight," the unfortunate guest said, his head twisted oddly but his words still clear: "But whether it's silver or spices, you probably wouldn't care."

The king gripped the purple arrow tightly, revealing a vicious smile: "You're too cheap; you really can't attract me. Heh, someone would even pay gold equal to that bearded old man beside you!"

Davos felt the gaze of everyone upon him.

His treatment actually improved only after being priced by the she-wolf, but he could not respond to that price—not only because the earl Bōnèi'ěr's daughter, Miss Mǎ'ěrmó, was still in danger, but also because he himself could not bear the shame of being ransomed by the she-wolf: he had not only failed to fulfill the king's commission to return the Stark family's daughter, but also had to be grateful for the other side's generous ransom, which would cost the king all his bargaining chips—in this situation he would have to persuade the other side to pledge loyalty to his own king.

A true king's hand could swallow countless humiliations without changing expression, but he was merely an incompetent knight who repeatedly failed; perhaps when he spoke these words to the she-wolf, he would blush.

How could he possibly deserve to be the king's hand?

Earl Bōnèi'ěr had not shown him much favor, but he understood that he could not use the excuse of having to bear prime‑ministerial duties to leave his daughter alone on the island.

"He is fortunate enough," the unfortunate guest said.

"He is stupid enough," the king said, stepping down from the throne while still gripping the purple arrow tightly. "You're different—you're merely base enough, contemptible enough."

"Is that so? If that's the case," he smiled, "I'm regretful."

At that moment the purple arrow turned into a purple snake, which hissed instantly and then bit the king's hand.

The king flung the snake away, somewhat panicked.

At that moment the unfortunate guest blew a note with his mouth; the snake instantly lunged at his forehead, and after two breaths he closed his eyes, his head sinking heavily onto the carpet.

The king's face flushed then paled. His lips became like a discolor‑changing octopus, sometimes emitting a blue glow, sometimes turning blood‑red, sulfur‑yellow, or purple‑green—utterly unlike a normal person.

The king clenched his fists; the black‑red eyes on his left side emitted alternating flashes of light and dark.

After only two or three breaths, the king returned to normal, bursting into loud laughter on the spot and turning to face the iron‑born inside the tent.

"Someone wants to kill your king, hahaha! But they will never succeed, for your king is so great, so beloved by the gods—oh, sometimes he himself is a deity, he is your deity!" He raised both hands, as if a god embracing mankind: "It is because his undertaking is too great, threatening the weaklings at the world's edge; it is because his power makes the enemies far away tremble; it is because his ambition leaves all the despairing unable to sleep; it is because his madness makes their false gods quake day and night."

The tent fell silent, and É'ěr let out a mighty cheer.

"Long live the king!" the captains and lords farther from the table already cheered loudly. The lords seated on either side of the side tables raised their cups and smashed them against the table, producing a series of thumping sounds.

He was winning over the hearts of the iron‑born.

"Long live the king!" the voices inside the tent began to rise in unison.

The king waved his hand, then dragged the priest's table out, stood on it, and gestured to the shouting iron‑born.

"Today, I, Yōulún of the Gěléiqiáoyī family, your king, hereby promise you that today will be a turning point in the history of the Iron Islands;"

"Today will be the day we reclaim dominion over the world! I promise you: I will give you everything you desire; I, your king, will bring you something fresher—he will lead his people deep inland, destroy the false gods his enemies worship, tear out the white trees with their grotesque faces one by one, strip them of their hypocrisy and weakness; I, king of all lands, I swear: I will lead you to destroy every renowned name, so that the surnames of the Iron Islands will settle permanently on the mainland, while the ancient surnames of our enemies will be buried in the fields, wailing in deep valleys and hidden grottos;"

"I swear I will make their noble women bear children for us, and have their knights and lords pull plows and haul manure for us; I, the Iron Islands' great king, will not only lead you to plunder the gold you prize and seize any treasure from the mortal world,"

"I, your king, will make sure every village on earth hears the iron‑born's howl; will make every inch of land bear the iron‑born's footprint; will make every piece of gold engraved with the iron‑born's handprint;"

"Long live King Yōulún!" a particularly loud roar came from the corner.

"Long live King Yōulún!"

"Tonight, tonight I will sleep with my newly wed rock wife, that she may bear me, your king, an heir. Haha, today, this is I, your king, today's task." He laughed heartily, oblivious to Āshā sitting at the high table, her face as dark as iron, a look of picking someone to devour, "but I, your king, will not forget to give you a gift."

He stepped down from the table, kicked it over, and walked up to his high seat. His bastard son quickly pulled the overturned seat to one side.

"King! Great king of the Iron Islands! Great king of the verdant lands! Haven't you forgotten that before giving them gifts you ought to give me one?" Āshā, dressed in a gown, looked down upon the many iron‑born with a disdainful gaze, questioning the king in an indisputable tone.

"Haha, the queen wants me to give a gift to him!" the king laughed, splitting his mouth wide.

The iron‑born beneath the table all laughed heartily.

Davos felt unease spreading through his whole body.

Anxious, worried. He had never felt this way before, not even before the Battle of the Blackwater.

"What kind of gift do you want, my queen?"

"Damn it, I'm the queen, of course I want a crown!" Āshā said coldly, "But for a woman, there's something more important in this world than a crown—that thing is a man's love. You're my man, right? If I weren't drunk."

In the queen's every gesture, her skirt flared, making her look extraordinarily chic. The king had his own sinister charm, but the queen also had her own composure; if one had to rank them, at least for now the outcome was undecided.

"You certainly have my love. You are my queen." He seized his queen, roughly pulling her to his side, pressing her head down and kissing her lips hard, "Be gentle, my queen; the king does not like coarse women, nor women who speak foul language! Understood?"

Āshā appeared completely under control. Her free hand reached for the king's wine cup; Davos worried she would smash the cup into him, but her hand merely felt around the cup, as if she were struggling and hesitating.

Brienne saw the scene, instantly drew her longsword, and kicked over another dark‑skinned bastard guarding the king's side.

"Release Lady Āshā!" Brienne bellowed at the king.

Davos saw the guards in the tent all draw their weapons; they were all men of King Yōulún.

The other iron‑born in the tent looked doubtful. Davos knew that at this moment they found it hard to take a stand—one was their king, another their queen, or the former king's daughter.

King Yōulún gave Brienne a vicious grin, but Brienne did not retreat despite the many guards' blades pointed at her; in this situation, any movement by a guard would provoke her to act further.

"Your blade is already notched." Yōulún released Āshā and laughed.

Dai Fosī thought this wedding was absurd and ridiculous, filled with a strange and discordant atmosphere; now that swords are drawn, nobody would believe this marriage could last long and be harmonious.

"But killing is enough!" Bu Leini glared at You Lun, gritting her teeth as she said.

"I also don't like rude men." Asha flipped her skirt again, adjusted her clothing, "I also don't like men who don't understand words; if you're like that, be careful I'll slip a knife into your heart while you sleep."

Asha tidied up, raised her cup and drank the wine in one gulp. Bu Leini hesitated, then stepped back, sheathed her sword, and resumed her duties as a guard.

The king wore a smiling expression, as if what had just happened had never occurred.

"Ha, your king is nothing but a braggart who likes to boast and bully women! Oh, he may not always be able to bully women; today I saw him knocked over by a woman's butt, and if the woman hadn't given him time to roll over, he might have been the second king to drown at a wedding."

Asha blushed, speaking provocatively; the king's recent action obviously did not frighten her.

Dai Fosī felt uneasy to the point of clenching his fists.

The king raised his cup and drank the wine in one gulp.

He first burst into loud laughter, then gradually stopped smiling, becoming stern, slowly gazing at the queen; shortly after, he suddenly laughed again. His eyes flashed with alternating black and red light.

"My dear queen, there's something extra in the wine!" he said, then violently pulled the queen close, ruthlessly tearing her dress in front of all the guests. The queen was instantly naked as he held her in his arms.

"Why would a good girl wear such vulgar Eastern clothing?" he tore off her pants, placing his naked queen in his arms.

Dai Fosī lowered his head, feeling that he would never again experience a wedding so embarrassing that even an onlooker like him would feel awkward.

"Ha ha, tonight I have my dear queen with me." You Lun grabbed the struggling Asha with one hand; she seemed powerless to resist. The king laughed heartily, "This is my own gift, but I won't forget to bring gifts to my loyal subjects, loyal captains, and lords."

He gestured to another blond-haired bastard; the bastard turned his head and walked aside, pulling open the tent flap.

Dai Fosī quickly turned his head, seeing a lady gracefully entering from outside the curtain, wearing the most splendid clothing in the world—he didn't know how to describe such splendor. But no matter how splendid the clothing, he couldn't help but fix his eyes on her face.

This is clearly……

He jumped to his feet, face full of disbelief!

"Miss Shansha!"