CHAPTER 150

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CHAPTER 150

290 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

Balon Greyjoy didn't know what to do; this was not what Drown God had shown him. He had shown power and glory for House Greyjoy. Why did all go wrong? Why did the Drown God have forsaken him? That was all he could think of, and now, it was time to face the wrath of Robert Baratheon. Their motto was not "Ours is the fury" for nothing.

As Robert looked at Balon, that was sitting on his throne like a statue. He was getting angrier. He enjoyed the battle immensely rather than spending those boring and tedious peaceful years, but now the fighting was coming to an end. His rage for the rebellion was taking over. How dared this stupid squid rebel and try to take something that belonged to him?

Never! He will never allow someone else to take something that rightfully belongs to him. He was going to crush that squid's head with his bare hands. As Robert continues to bash squid skulls, from the corner of his eyes, he sees a big man taller than 2 meters reaping the Ironborn like they were freshly grown grain. He was using a war hammer too.

Right after him was the wonder boy of Ned, Ser Drasil, but Robert thought the boy was fighting a bit weirdly. He wasn't using his Valyrian Steel sword; he was fighting with a dagger while throwing the enemies he faced to the ground and stabbing them. It was like he was trying to kill them while grappling.

Aermir, while trying to get better at grappling, he saw Ser Selmy and Kingslayer. Ser Selmy had 13 str and 13 spd, and Kingslayer had 14 str and 14.4 spd. Ser Selmy might have lower stats than Jaime, but he was able to dispatch his enemies faster. His movement and attack had a certain exquisiteness and tranquility to them.

It was like he knew what his enemy was going to do before they did. His every action was refined. On the other hand, Jaime's movement and attacks were explosive and fierce compared to Ser Selmy's. His moves were more energetic and full of excitement, but Aermir couldn't see an ounce of mental acuteness in his fighting form. Jaime was entirely fighting on instinct and physical prowess. In his opinion, Aermir liked Ser Selmy's fighting style more; it was more refined and getting close to perfect.

Robert had missed this feeling of superiority when you see your enemies groveling in defeat. He was starting to think about how he was going to punish Balon, the so-called King of Salt and Rock. Should he make him eat rock salts until he chokes on them, or should he be quick about it and just bash his head in as he said he would? While Robert was fighting with great joy, a shout destroyed all his excitement and joy.

"Men of the Iron Islands, stop fighting. We lost! King Robert, let's stop this needless bloodshed!"

Balon started shouting of surrender. The second he lost the main gate, Balon knew they had lost but couldn't bring himself to accept it, but if he let this fight continue, Iron Islands would needlessly lose manpower. The Ironborn started throwing their weapons to the ground, and deafening cries of cheers started to come from the Iron Throne forces. The rebellion was over.

Robert slowly comes toward Balon and stands in front of him. He was feeling cheated out of a good fight. He was still hungry for more. Robert suddenly felt a great sense of emptiness and loss. He was going to go back to those days of atrophy and boredom. So, he picked up a sword and threw it to Balon, then shouted,

"Pick up the sword and fight like a man. Are you not the King of Salt and Rock? Pick it up!"

Balon did not react for a moment and fell to his knees.

"King Robert, please forgive this rebellious subject!"

He begged for forgiveness; he didn't care about honor. All he needed to do was live. If he lives, there will come a time Ironborn can rise again, but for now, he needs to suck it up and beg for forgiveness. His will was also broken a bit. He had lost all of his potential heirs.

All he was left was the most useless of all, Theon. The wuss was more skittish than a fish. He was no Kraken. While Balon was thinking about those things, with great fury, Robert raised his war hammer, but before he could decide to strike it, he heard Ned.

"My king, please be merciful. It would not be honorable to kill a surrendered man."

At that moment, Aermir cringed and thought, here we go again with all that honor bullshit. Robert said in anger,

"Do I have to be honorable to execute a rebel? If I am not mistaken, rebellion is still an offense punishable by dead. I am just executing the law."

Lord Royce said,

"You are right, my king, but Iron Islands will become too unruly if you kill him. Even if they give up the fight, they will continue to raid the coastal towns."

Robert lowered his war hammer reluctantly. Ned and Jon would be angry and nag at him if he executed Balon now. He could run away from Ned's nagging by going back to King's Landing, but there was no running away from Jon's nagging. Robert contemplated for a while which one was worth more.

He would love to crack that skull, but after it came the nagging, and the Ironborn would create unrest in the region, too. They wouldn't dare to revolt again. So, there was no chance for war, but they would be a great nuisance to me and create a needless headache. Robert decided that, for a moment's pleasure, it wasn't worth the moons or years of headaches, and he said,

"Then how should we punish him, Ned?"

"First of all, he should swear allegiance to you right now, and we should discuss the rest on the morrow."

Aermir wanted to shout at the top of his lungs. He has broken his oath already; it doesn't matter if he swears again!

...

POV MC

With the end of the war, we brought Pyke under our control, and everyone was taking care of their wounded. I had to return as the Druid to heal the wounded, but this time I couldn't use the scout as an excuse, so I had to act exhausted to be excused. Since I was the one who opened the gates, Other than the King, nobody said anything when I left the celebration table. He forced me to drink eight more cups before I could leave the festivities, and he also declared me a hero. Thanks to my passive poison resistance, alcohol hardly worked on me.