Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Chapter 267
Sorry, I thought it was a common cold, but these two days have been getting worse and worse, and I can't write many words. Please bear with me, and I will try my best to make up before the end of the month.Thanks.

Drums beat to the rhythm of battle, and the Invincible Ironborn charged forward, her bow cutting through the turbulent green water.The smaller ship ahead was turning, its oars beating the sea, and its rose flag fluttering in the wind: white roses in red shields at bow and stern, and a gold rose at the top of the mast on a grass-green ground.The Invincible Ironborn slammed into her side so hard that half the crew, who were preparing for the board battle, fell down.The crackling and snapping of the oars was like a beautiful movement to the captain's ears.

So he jumped over the gunnel first, and dropped to the deck below, his golden cloak flapping behind him.The White Roses backed away from Victarion Greyjoy, who was in full armor and wearing a sea monster helmet.It has always been like this.They held swords and spears and axes tightly, but nine out of ten wore no armor, and the one who remained had only stitched scales.They are not Ironborn, Victarion thought contemptuously, and they are afraid of being drowned.

"Kill him!" someone shouted, "he's only one!"

"Come on!" he growled in response. "Come and kill me if you have the guts."

The Warriors of the Rose surrounded him on all sides, iron in hand, but panicked in their eyes, and Victarion could taste their deep fear.He dashed left and right, cutting off the tenth's arm, and through No. 20's shoulder. No. 30 drove his ax into Victarion's loose pine shield, and he smashed the shield there with his backhand. Idiot's face, knocking him over, and then slamming his ultimate move when he tried to stand up.He was struggling to get the ax out of the dead man's ribs, and it felt like a slap on the back when a spear went between his shoulder blades.Victarion turned and slashed at the spearman's head. The steel split helm, hair, and skull, and his hands went numb.The man wobbled a little, and when the Iron Captain drew back the axe, the body sprawled across the deck, looking more drunk than dead.

By this time the Ironborn had followed him onto the attacked ship.He heard Wolf One-Ear howl, and caught sight of Ragnor Pyke in his rusted armour, entering the fray as Newt the Barber hurled his spinning hatchet, striking his foe in the chest.Victarion killed two more in succession, and he intended to kill No. 30, but Ragnor struck first. "Well done!" Victarion called to him.

He turned to find the next victim for his axe, and found the other captain on the other side of the deck.The man's white coat was stained with blood, but Victarion could make out the sigil on his chest: a white rose in a red shield.The man's shield bears the same emblem, mounted on a red ground, surrounded by white battlements. "You!" Captain Iron yelled in the killing field, "Wearing roses! Are you the lord of South Shield Island?"

The other party lifted his mask, revealing a beardless face: "I am his heir, Sir Talbot Siri. How about you, sea monster?"

"Your death." Victarion rushed towards him.

Desiree jumped up and came forward.His steel sword was the finest castle-forged sword, and the young knight danced it with gusto.He slashed to the bottom with the tenth blow, and Victarion swung the ax away, and before he could raise his shield, No.20 hit the helmet again.Victarion's ax struck back from the side, but Siri blocked it with his shield. The sawdust flew, and with a sweet, sharp crack, the white rose snapped in two.Immediately, the young knight's sword hit his thigh one after another, making harsh sounds on the iron armor.The boy was moving fast, the Iron Captain realized, and he struck Desiree with his shield in the face, sending him stumbling back to the gunwale, before raising the ax aloft, on the weight of his body, with the intention of splitting the young man in half , but was dodged by Siri.The ax slammed into the railing, sending splinters flying, and he tried to pull it out and strike again, but it jammed.The deck swayed beneath him, and he slipped and fell to one knee.

Ser Talbot dropped the shattered shield and slashed with his longsword.Victarion's shield twisted to the other side as he fell, and he had to claw at Desiree's sword with a steel fist.The knuckles on the gauntlet creaked, and he groaned at a sharp pain, but Victarion held back. "I'm quick too, boy," he said, snatching the sword from the knight and throwing it into the sea.

Sir Talbot's eyes widened: "My sword..."

Victarion grabbed the young man by the throat with his bloody fist. "Go find it!" He pushed the opponent off the side of the boat with all his strength, and fell into the blood-stained sea.

This bought him time to draw the axe.The White Rose retreated before the Iron Tide, some trying to flee below decks, others crying for mercy.Victarion felt the blood trickling down his fingers under mail and leather and gauntlets, but it was nothing.A large group of enemies gathered around the mast to continue the battle, shoulder to shoulder in a circle.They are at least men, and would rather die than surrender.Victarion intended to grant the wishes of some of them himself.So he struck the shield with his ax and rushed over.

The Drowned God did not make Victarion Greyjoy for a war of words at the Kingsmoot, nor for him to fight a stealthy foe in the endless swamp.He was born to wear iron armor, to hold a bloody long axe, and to bring death with every swing.

They struck from front and back together, but their swords, like wickers, could not harm him.Nothing could cut through Victarion Greyjoy's thick plate, nor would he give his foe a chance to find a weak spot in his joints - protected only by mail and leather.It didn't matter whether his attackers were three, four, or five, he killed them one by one, confident in his heart that his steel armor would withstand the rest.Every time an enemy falls, he transfers his rage to the next enemy.

The last must have been a blacksmith: bull shoulders, one side much thicker than the other.The man was clad in studded mail and a boiled fur hat.With the only blow he landed, Victarion's shield was finally shattered, but the Iron Captain slashed back and split his head in two.Dealing with the Crow's Eye would have been so easy.He pulled out the axe, and the blacksmith's head seemed to explode. Bones, blood, and brains were scattered everywhere, and the body fell down, leaning on his lap.It is too late to beg for mercy now, Victarion thought, shaking off the dead body.

At this time, the deck under his feet became slippery, and there were piles of dead bodies and dying people lying on the left and right.He threw away his shield and took a deep breath. "Commander," "The Barber" was beside him, "today's victory belongs to us."

The sea is full of ships, some burning, some sinking, and some smashed to pieces.The water between the hulls was a stew dotted with dead bodies, broken oars, and men clinging to the wrecks.In the distance, a dozen longships belonging to the southerners were scurrying into the Mande River.Let them flee, Victarion thought, let them tell the tale.It is not a man who runs away with his tail between his legs.

(End of this chapter)