Westeros
The strife and confrontations within the Red Keep's throne room were blocked by heavy stone walls and distant ocean waves, not yet reaching Euron Greyjoy's ears.
Even if that message carrying threats and anger chased him on the sea breeze, Euron would only respond with a sneer.
The arguments of kings and protests of envoys were, to him, merely broken foam on the shore—noisy for a moment, destined to dissipate in the sound of the tide.
These soft, powerless diplomatic rhetorics became exactly the excuse Euron needed for his next war.
At sunrise tomorrow, the Iron Islands fleet would leave the coast once again.
Euron's gaze had already crossed the coral coast of the Summer Isles, casting towards the farther south.
His next stop was the Isle of Naath—the legendary island of butterflies abundant in velvet and beautiful women.
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King Balon frowned tightly, staring at the land marked as the Isle of Naath on the chart.
When Euron decided to direct the voyage here, he raised explicit objections for the first time—but not for the usual reasons.
"That is not an island for warriors, Euron!" King Balon's low voice echoed in the council chamber. "There are no strong walls or sharp blades there, nor bloodthirsty soldiers. The Naathi worship the so-called 'Lord of Harmony,' making them prefer to break lute strings rather than touch swords, apologizing to trees even when picking fruit."
He described those residents who abandoned the coast to hide in deep mountains and dense forests—responding to violence with silence, replacing resistance with flight.
The Naathi on the Isle of Naath were incredibly weak, anyone could bully them, and they had no defensive measures. Yet, this seemingly easily obtainable land hid a defense more terrifying than any army.
"Legend has it that those butterflies with eyespots on their wings are messengers of the gods. They guard the island, ending every invasion with the same curse—'Butterfly Fever.'"
King Balon detailed the horror of the disease: high fever first, then the afflicted would fall into a bizarre, frenzied dancing, unable to stop or eat, until blood seeped from their skin and muscles peeled from their bones like rotting cloth.
Even Nymeria and her valiant Rhoynar warriors, though treated well by the Naathi, could not escape expulsion by this plague.
"How do you intend to rule such an island? Are you going to enslave those Naathi who won't even step on ants?" Balon finally threw out this unsolvable question, a hint of irony in his voice—after all, everyone knew Euron's fleet never engaged in slave trade.
"I know all of what you said—the ancient history, the butterfly curse." Euron raised his eyes, his heterochromatic pupils unwavering. He said indifferently, "I never thought of ruling that cursed land."
Balon frowned, waiting for him to continue.
"We won't rule," the corner of Euron's mouth lifted slightly, chuckling lightly, "we're just going to... protect. All I want to do is plant our Iron Islands' Golden Kraken banner on their coast, becoming the nominal guardian of that land."
"Protect?" Balon repeated the word as if tasting a strange fruit.
"Of course." Euron's expression appeared unusually serious, even solemn. "For these people who stand aloof from worldly strife and love peace, shouldn't we, the strong who hold swords, generously offer protection? Isn't this an honor?"
Balon fell silent. Looking at Euron, he absolutely didn't believe this man who treated war as art would suddenly overflow with kindness. Behind these seemingly noble words must lie deeper schemes.
Seeing his brother's doubts persist, Euron laughed low, patting the twin blades at his waist. "Rest assured, brother, I have my own course in mind. The fleet won't dock, and sailors won't go ashore. Just me alone, riding 'Halcyon,' going quietly at night and returning before sunrise. I won't disturb their gods, nor their dreams."
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The Isle of Naath was located west of the Basilisk Isles, north of Sothoryos, directly south of the Valyrian peninsula, separated from Jhala and Valyria by the Summer Sea.
The Naathi, revering peace for generations, were called the "Peaceful People" by the wider world.
This kindness, aloof from worldly strife, became a mark inviting disaster in the cruel lands across the Narrow Sea ruled by slavers.
Cunning slavers had long figured out the rules of Naath: staying on the island for only a few hours reduced the risk of catching the terrifying "Butterfly Fever." Plus, since the butterflies considered divine messengers were diurnal, dark and windy nights became the best time for raids. Time and again, they surged onto the coast like a tide, penetrating the quiet interior, swinging butcher knives at residents unwilling to harm even animals.
Naathi women, due to their unique gentleness and beauty, were highly "favored" in the brothels of the Free Cities, becoming the most expensive slaves.
In the greedy eyes of slavers and pirates, every gentle Naathi was no different from a moving, breathing mountain of gold.
They measured life with eyes full of the stench of copper, putting price tags on pure souls.
The terrifying Butterfly Fever was indeed a fearful chasm, but before Gold Dragons piled high enough to fill a deck, even the Reaper seemed bribable. To seize these astonishing profits, they were willing to take risks, paving a bloody route to wealth with the bones of their companions.
This dark history, however, unexpectedly wove a precious friendship.
Warrior Queen Alicia had once rescued a Naathi girl—Freya—from a rusty cage during a fierce sea battle with a slave ship. She personally escorted this future queen back to her homeland, and the seed of friendship sprouted quietly amidst blood and fire.
Since then, an invisible bridge was built between the Isle of Naath and the Isle of Women.
Queen Freya visited many times, exchanging the island's exquisite velvet and rare herbs for fruits and salt from the Isle of Women. Thus, when Alicia heard Euron intended to be the "Protector" of Naath, she immediately approached him.
"The Naathi will gladly accept your banner," Alicia said to Euron, determination shining in her eyes. "They have suffered enough from plunder; they desperately need a talisman to deter the wolves."
Alicia actively proposed, "If you are willing, I can personally accompany you. Queen Freya is my old friend; it would be most appropriate for me to make the introduction."
A smile flickered at the corner of Euron's mouth. "It would be my pleasure. Then, I will trouble the Warrior Queen to journey with me."
"Just call me Alicia." Alicia nodded slightly, but her gaze did not leave Euron's face. The sea breeze brushed her temples; scrutiny and contemplation settled in her eyes. After a brief pause, she spoke again, her voice low and clear: "Before setting sail, I still have a question. Are you really... merely satisfied with planting your banner on that beach, on that island?"
Euron laughed. "Everyone knows my fleet doesn't transport slaves, and I never do slave business. You saw with your own eyes in the Summer Isles that I don't kill for pleasure, never killing innocent civilians."
"I know." Alicia took a step forward, her skirt brushing the deck. "That is exactly why I am even more curious. I know you are a man of great ambition, and I know even better that you don't make meaningless deals. I've pondered repeatedly these past few days: how can a mere unmanned banner truly deter those jackals peeping in the dark?"
"Then," Euron turned his head with interest, asking, "have you thought of the answer?"
Alicia took a deep breath and nodded solemnly. "Your target was never the Isle of Naath, but those slave owners who view the Naathi as property. What you want is a legitimate 'excuse,' a warship that can sail towards them at any time."
A light suddenly flashed in Euron's eyes, like thunder appearing in dark clouds. He hadn't expected that the one who truly saw through this curtain would be this warrior queen from the Isle of Women before him.
"Since you guessed it," Euron asked with a tone of inquiry, "why are you still willing to help me?"
"I'm not helping you, but Naath, the peace-loving Naathi." Alicia's answer was decisive. "Although your actions and banner cannot stop all pirates and slavers, they can at least make their actions less rampant. And you will ultimately point your spear at those slave owners. Regardless of the original intention, Naath will benefit from it." She looked up, meeting Euron's gaze directly. "Your motives may not be pure, but you can indeed help Naath. Your blade, this time, will cut those who deserve to be cut."
Euron gazed at Alicia's burning eyes and smiled. "You are very smart."
"Thanks for the compliment!"
Alicia suddenly said, "I heard you use dual blades and are the greatest warrior in Westeros. I wonder if I might have the honor of learning from you." She hefted the spear in her hand, fighting spirit soaring.
Euron smiled. "I also very much want to see the combat skills inherited from Nymeria."
The two came to the deck of the juggernaut, facing the morning sun, blades and spear clashing.
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