Subjugating the Game of Thrones

Chapter 10 Drowned Man（4）

The tempest ravaged the sea, and beneath the surface, the world was just as tumultuous, as if some ocean-deity, bored, was shaking their aquarium, causing the creatures within to sway helplessly. The dark, cold, and boundless depths swallowed the three-masted warship amidst the lightning storm, swallowed the countless ironborn soldiers like dust, and swallowed the hopes of the ironkind to conquer their foes. It wasn't until the next day that the calamity gradually subsided, and finally, the sea was calm.

As the dawn light seeped into the sky from the tranquil eastern edge of the ocean, Lann slowly opened his eyes.

At first, his eyes stared blankly at the deep, cloudless sky, but then he seemed to remember something and raised his strong arm before his eyes, feeling somewhat incredulous.

"I didn't die?"

In the midst of a fierce storm, how could a man who couldn't swim and fell into a boundless sea possibly survive?

As he pondered this question, a voice came from beside him.

"Want to die? Just turn over."

Lann looked towards the sound and saw a familiar face with messy black hair, a round chin, a red nose, and several wrinkles on the forehead, looking both old and ugly.

He was dressed in a coarse linen shirt and wet trousers, leaning back against the bow of the boat, shaking a leather wine bag in his hand with disappointment at the empty echo.

Old drunkard Pate, from his squad.

Lann recognized him. At the same time, he realized he was lying on the edge of a small boat without a mast, the deep sea surface was less than half a meter from his cheek.

"Did you save me?"

As he spoke, he propped himself up, but unconsciously frowned. He felt as if his whole body was dehydrated and weak, and his stomach growled with hunger as he got up.

"It was the cook; he's smarter than us. He knew to grab the boat on the deck before being thrown out," Drunkard Pate said, pointing to a brown-haired middle-aged man sitting at the stern, who looked up and smiled at Lann.

"Are we the only ones?" Lann glanced at the small boat and couldn't help but ask, "Where are the others? Did you see Jace? The blond one, from my village?"

"The Drowned God's grand watery palace will open its doors to our suffering brethren, and your friend will become a fine sailor in His halls," the last man on the boat, weakly smiled at him.

This man, with his burly build, ashen black long hair messily covering half his face and the front of his green, blue, and grey robe, was the leading Drowned Priest.

"Fear not, the great Drowned God has not forsaken us. Look, He sent His devout servant Lane to rescue us from the evil grasp of the Storm God," he said in a suppressed voice, before succumbing to a violent cough that seemed to cause him great pain.

"That's right, it's the will of the Drowned God," the old drunkard muttered beside him. "Why doesn't He just send us back to the island?"

"We cannot fathom the divine with our mortal minds," the long-haired Drowned Man wheezed, struggling to explain.

"But He obviously has other plans for us."

...

Up close, the priest lacked the haughty aura Lann had seen in him before; instead, he looked like an ordinary old farmer in his forties.

Unfortunately, Lann had little interest in his words. After silently mourning the blond youth for a moment, he shifted his attention.

The azure sea undulated beneath the small boat, and the boat rose and fell in the dim environment. With four people distributed along the sides of the small boat, it seemed quite spacious.

Beyond the small boat, the vast ocean stretched as far as the eye could see, with the boundless sea covered by a dark expanse in all directions—east, south, west, and north. A thin mist hovered above the sea level, casting a shadow over Lann's heart.

But although he was worried about the current situation, he was not desperate. After scanning the surroundings, he looked at the busy cook, Lane.

Lane's nickname was given by the blond youth from the same village as "himself," and Lann soon found that the nickname was not accurate because Lane was more than just a cook.

The supplies on the boat were very simple: a bundle of coarse ropes, two linen-made tattered cloaks with bronze clasps, a bow, half a tube of arrows, a short axe, and two long axes, along with some miscellaneous small items.

These seemed useless, but Lane relied on these things to make a simple fishing rod.

At the same time, he carefully took out a piece of black bread wrapped in linen from his arms. The bread was already moldy, worm-eaten, and even soaked in water, but Lane picked a soft maggot from this bread.

"You were prepared?" Lann asked as he approached.

"We from Lonely Lighthouse Island are used to hiding a few worms on us," the cook said smugly. "As long as we catch one fish, we'll have plenty of fish meat for bait."

Lonely Lighthouse Island is a small island in the Iron Islands, but Lann knows this island because it is located at the farthest west of the known world. Further west is an endless sea that has never been successfully explored.

"As long as there is enough bait, the people of Lonely Lighthouse Island will never starve at sea," the cook said as he set the worm bait and then sat at the stern, fishing.

When he noticed Lann's interest, he began to explain.

"I'm not familiar with this sea, but as long as it's within the Sunset Sea, I can know what kind of fish live where. Of course, the fish in the sea are not honest. You have to know some of their habits and..."

He began to talk about some common fish in the sea and fishing methods. Seeing him talk endlessly, Lann couldn't help asking, "Will our talking scare the fish away?"

"It depends on which fish it is."

The cook, who seemed more like a fisherman, said, "Some fish will be scared away, but some will come over. You have to know that the sea water is very clear, and timid fish will not come over after finding a boat, let alone hearing the noise."

As he spoke, he forcefully raised the fishing rod in his hand and saw a big-headed silver-scale sharp-tailed fish fiercely biting the fish hook at the end of the fishing line, shaking and moving. It didn't seem to be hooked, but it was its own death that didn't let go.

The fisherman immediately raised his arm and held the fish in his hand, showing it to Lann. "Look, these teeth make it very brave."

Lann curiously looked at this big-headed silver-scale fish with sharp teeth. Although modern people have seen a lot, he seems to have never seen this kind of fish with his own eyes.

"I say, kid, do people in White Gull Village only dig stones to make a living?"

The boat was not big, and the old drunkard could clearly see all this, so he couldn't help sneering, "Or did you just go to see the fishing girls?"

"No, that's not true." Lann glanced at him, but he didn't pay much attention to this guy. Instead, he suggested to the fishing fisherman, "I'll help you?"

The drowned man was physically weak and had a high status, and the drunkard had a thick skin. He didn't know how long this boat would float, and it would not work for the cook to be busy for a long time.

Quickly recognizing the current situation, Lann felt that he should not eat for nothing.

"Okay."

The fisherman had no reason to disagree, "But you have to make your own tools."

Lann nodded, so the fisherman, while maintaining his fishing posture, verbally gave instructions.

To fish, he had to have a fishing rod first, which was easy. The cook had some remaining materials.

It just seemed simple to make a fishing rod when watching others, but it was another situation when Lann did it by himself. Coupled with the old drunkard's blind advice, it took nearly an hour for him to finally tighten the best fishing line on the long pole.

But after he completed this step, he had an additional harvest—

You have learned a new skill: Fishing Gear Making lv1

...

Accompanying the quietly born information, the pictures in his mind about him making the fishing rod just now emerged one after another and were deeply branded in his memory. As long as he thought about it a little, Lann could remember any insignificant details.

He was not very excited about this, because Lann didn't think he would use this skill under normal circumstances. He was more curious about the mechanism of the emergence of this information—

He thought he wouldn't see the information prompts in this kind of history, because he didn't see any attributes when he looked at himself, but now it seems not to be the case.

So he looked down at his current body again, but there were still no races, levels, and other text floating out.

"It's still working, but only the real body can have those attributes?"

Lann guessed.

When he sat at the bow of the boat, using a piece of fish meat from the fish caught by the fisherman as bait to start fishing, another piece of information emerged in his thoughts shortly after.

You have learned a new skill: Fishing lv1

...

This piece of information was born with a silver-scale short-tailed fish being pulled up. At this time, the sun was shrouded overhead, and the fish was lively and splashed a large amount of water, until it was smashed by the old drunkard with an axe, and it began to be still.

Then the old drunkard began to eat big mouthfuls.

"This kind of fish, the livelier the better," he said vaguely while eating, "but only dead fish won't bite people."

After looking at this shameless guy for a few eyes, Lann didn't pay much attention, but turned his head to continue fishing. Unfortunately, he had little harvest later.

Because there were no oars, and the direction was uncertain, the boat could only drift aimlessly on the vast and deep sea surface, moving forward from time to time with the waves.

The old drunkard and the long-haired drowned man leaned together, and the two fishermen sat at the bow and stern of the boat until the food was gradually sufficient.

"Thirsty, drink seawater, it can also have a bit of salt taste, drink less and we won't die." The fisherman claimed, then his yellow teeth fiercely bit on the fish belly held in his hand. The fish was still slightly convulsing, and the wound kept bleeding.

The drunkard and the drowned man were also holding this sea fish and eating it, seemingly used to eating raw fish. Lann stared at the food in his hand and blinked.

After scaling and peeling, the fish's tender and translucent body was exposed to the line of sight. In the sunlight, the dead fish's big head was round and staring, which made him have to think that not long ago, this fish was still lively in his hand.

Although he was hungry in the Wind's Rest Castle, he could at least eat a normal meal. Now the situation has lowered this poor bottom line.

"Fortunately, there is no need to worry about parasites."

He sighed and took a bite. The fresh and cold raw fish meat had a trace of salty taste of seawater, which didn't seem so terrible...

He felt that this might be self-consolation.

...

The next day after successfully surviving the drowning ceremony, they set off on the road and encountered a storm at sea in the afternoon. In just a short day, Lann gradually adapted to the life adrift at sea.

Surrounded by the vast sea, only the boat under his feet could move a little, which made him have to feel that he was in a narrow ocean prison.

The state of the people on the boat was still good. When chatting, they would feel lucky to survive and curse the storm and the storm god in a low voice. However, they were not sad about the companions who died at sea.

Obviously, they are not unfamiliar with sea disasters, storms, and deaths. They are very good at finding food in the sea.

The drowned priest named Lucas would wave his arms towards the sea at sunrise and sunset, praying loudly. He prayed that the Drowned God could let them successfully reach the other side of the Oak Island, and then charge for the great Drowned God's son.

Lann is not clear about what this person is thinking. With just the four of them, even if they get there, it seems to be just sending heads to the enemy.

At this time, he has no hope of completing those three things. He feels that as long as there is a little wind and waves, this boat may be overturned, and then they will sink to the bottom of the sea.

At the same time, the surrounding blue situation leaves no clues for him to observe.

But he hasn't decided whether he should die or not yet—

The main thing is that it's too painful.

...

On the fourth day after being drowned, the drift is still continuing. Lann's fishing skill level has been quietly upgraded, and the old drunkard who drank too much seawater has a bit of diarrhea.

"You are lucky not to be dehydrated." The cook, Lane, comforted his companion like this, and then he himself had a high fever.

Lann was alert to the lessons of these two people, trying to drink less seawater, which was hard to endure, but he thought that as long as the time was not long, there would be no problem—

On the fifth day, the drunkard and the cook began to drink each other's urine to relieve thirst, and Lann was stunned. As a result, a large barrel of sealed wine floated on the sea that night, solving the water source problem of the boat, and at the same time, there was also a large plate of sour hard cheese soaked.

The two people who drank urine seemed to regret it, but they couldn't see too much emotion on their rough faces. At the same time, this timely supply also slightly relieved the cook's fever.

By the sixth day, although the cook still looked weak, this experienced old fisherman from Lonely Lighthouse Island was no longer in a state of fever, but facing the seemingly boundless sea, he was still very depressed.

"I may not live long." He claimed, and then looked at the drowned priest shrouded in the ship's railing. "Will the great Drowned God want me, such an old and useless person? Lord Lucas?"

His voice was full of tension and expectation. The other party nodded at his words and said solemnly, "The Drowned God's water palace will open its doors to all the iron kind who worship the god, as long as he dies in the sea."

So the cook, Lane, smiled contentedly.

...

However, the situation did not develop to that extent, because on the seventh day at dusk, the situation changed.

The setting sun dyed the sea gorgeously, and the boat swayed with the tide. The old fisherman was standing at the bow at this time, looking up with his hand, and after discovering the abnormal situation, his old eyes suddenly widened, and his voice unconsciously increased.

"There is a boat! Come and have a look!"

Hearing him say this, everyone rushed to the bow to watch. However, when they saw the sails raised by the boat, the long-haired drowned man suddenly leaned back on the deck, looking depressed.

"Kraken flag... God, save me, that's the Greyjoy's boat!"