Game of Thrones: The Red Dragon Lord

The people around the ship were frozen, stunned by the bloody and brutal scene. It was as if they had forgotten how to breathe.

After a swift and merciless killing, no one aboard dared to approach Gavin, especially not the Blood Dragon Guard standing ominously beside him.

When the silent, red-eyed attendant had first boarded the ship, many sailors had mocked him behind his back, speculating whether he was a fool or a simpleton. But now, they all avoided him, too frightened to even look his way. The terrifying red-eyed figure stood like a demon among them, and they steered clear.

Ignoring Captain Hassan, who trembled in fear, Gavin quickly ascended to the second deck where the steering wheel was located.

The helmsman, seeing Gavin approach, was overcome by panic and tried to run. But Gavin gripped his shoulder tightly and coldly said, "It's none of your business. Do your job and steer the ship."

The sky had just begun to darken when Gavin surveyed the situation with a calculating look.

At that moment, the ship had entered a narrow channel, the cliffs of the island looming dangerously close, less than 100 meters away—and getting closer by the second.

The four ships were arranged vertically in this tight space, with only one real threat among them: a ballista mounted at the bow of the ship behind the Golden Fleece.

Gavin's sharp eyes scanned the distance, quickly assessing the situation. The Golden Fleece had just crossed into the range of the flaming arrow.

His heartbeat quickened as he made a decision. He drew his bow, an arrow of flames materializing in his hand. His gaze was steady, his focus unwavering as he waited for the perfect moment.

He knew what had to be done—destroy the ballista, then escape the ship at the critical moment, as it neared the cliffs. That would be his only chance for survival.

As the coast drew closer, a gentle slope appeared ahead, and numerous reefs dotted the sea surface between the channel and the shore.

The nearest reef was only a few meters away. Gavin's mind raced as he devised a plan. Then, in a flash of inspiration, he knew exactly what to do.

The Blood Dragon Guard, carrying the supplies, swiftly climbed the lookout pole. Gavin, steady as ever, drew his bow and aimed at the crossbow behind them. A flaming arrow materialized in his hand, and he loosed it without hesitation.

"Boom!"

The explosion tore through the air, obliterating the ballista. The two pirates standing beside it were flung into the sea by the shockwave.

Without missing a beat, Gavin turned and loosed another flaming arrow, this time aimed at the lookout pole. It shattered on impact, sending the pole toppling toward the reef with the Blood Dragon Guard still perched on top.

Just as the pole neared the water, the Blood Dragon Guard leapt, landing nimbly on the reef below.

Gavin didn't hesitate. Using the long pole as leverage, he propelled himself onto the reef, landing beside the Blood Dragon Guard.

Together, they used the exposed rocks as a springboard and leapt toward the island.

The entire sequence unfolded like lightning, so fast that the crew of the Golden Fleece could only stare in stunned silence. The pirate ships behind noticed Gavin's escape, but their hesitation, caused by the earlier explosion, left them helpless.

By the time they had recovered, Gavin had already reached the island without a single obstacle.

He rushed up a gentle slope, scanning the surroundings. From a high point, he looked out for any sign of pursuit. However, as the four pirate ships slowly sailed away, turning behind a cliff, Gavin's hopes of being followed evaporated. With a sigh, he turned and walked deeper into the island.

Night in the Valley

As night fell, Gavin settled into a sheltered valley, the flickering flames of a small bonfire casting light across his face. A fish roasted over the fire, the crackling of the flames punctuating the quiet.

His mind churned as he pondered the next phase of his plan. The first part had gone smoothly, but the real challenge was still ahead.

"I need to catch a few of them," he muttered to himself, "find out what they know. If I'm going to deal with these puppets and gather information, I can't afford to remain in the dark."

Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes caught his attention. The Blood Dragon Guard emerged, his piercing red eyes reflecting the firelight. Without a word, Gavin understood. The pirate lair was about an hour's walk away.

Gavin had discovered the Blood Dragon Guard's unique telepathic ability by accident. It wasn't listed on the panel, but it was undeniably useful.

At first, the Blood Dragon Guard had been kept hidden, used for labor. During the battle on the ship, Gavin had intended to give an order aloud, but before he could speak, the guard had acted without hesitation, responding to a silent command.

After arriving on the island, Gavin tested the telepathy further. He quickly realized that he could transmit orders to the Blood Dragon Guard with just a thought, as long as the guard was within thirty steps. Even from a greater distance, a simple glance could convey his intent.

Now that the location was confirmed, Gavin felt confident. He finished his meal, satisfied, and let out a soft burp. "Time to rest," he murmured. "The pirates can't run forever. I'll have my answers soon enough."

The Next Morning

The sun rose gently over the island, casting a warm, golden light across the land. The air was filled with the fresh, salty scent of the ocean, and the breeze stirred the grass around Gavin, making it rustle softly.

He stretched, the crack of his joints loud in the stillness. "Time to work," he said to himself, his eyes steely with determination.

Meanwhile, at Shipwreck Bay

In a weathered wooden shack near the bay, the air was thick with tension.

"Fire arrows? You expect me to believe that?" Black Shark "Earl" spoke with chilling calmness, though his voice was laced with barely concealed fury.

The helmsman, bloodied and bound, whimpered. "I swear, sir! I saw it with my own eyes! The arrows—they exploded! I didn't lie..."

The whip cracked again, the sound sharp and biting. The helmsman's scream echoed in the room.

Black Shark "Earl" ignored his cries, his face unreadable as he slowly walked out of the shack. A pirate with a deep scar on his cheek hurried to follow.

"Boss, do you think he's telling the truth?" the scarred pirate asked cautiously.

Earl didn't turn around. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon as he answered coldly, "He doesn't seem like a liar. We'll find out soon enough."