It was noon, the sunlight blazed, and there was no wind over the sea. Although autumn had already arrived, the deck remained scorching hot because of steel's specific heat capacity.
"Get below deck." Rowan lowered his spyglass and urged Jaina to take cover.
Jaina had stood beside Rowan the whole time, without saying a single word since the fleet put to sea.
Rowan had tried dozens of ways to persuade Jaina not to come aboard and join the battle. But she had insisted, stubbornly refusing to listen to anything he said.
Yet once aboard, Jaina had simply gripped the railing and stared into space.
Rowan had assumed she was angry, until she took a small step closer to him.
"Was this how Father and Uncle Aldrius protected us when they were young?"
Why was she suddenly getting sentimental? Rowan glanced back at the Grand Sailing Fleet sailing slowly out to sea in orderly formation, and an inexplicable thrill rose in his chest.
Truthfully, Rowan had never experienced a naval battle on this scale, not even in his dreams.
He had once thought that facing such a grand spectacle would leave him nervous and afraid, just as novels described. In reality, he felt no fear at all.
Rowan was getting a little cocky. Although the enemy ships had yet to appear, the confidence his Iron Battleships gave him made him feel invincible.
This must have been what it meant to hold the enemy in contempt during a war.
I think I'm starting to understand how professional players feel when they slaughter anyone below 7,000 on the ranked ladder like pigs. When you have the strength, you can afford to be this arrogant.
"Responsibility passes from one generation to the next. We're bound to follow in our elders' footsteps. Our children will