Early the next morning, Jaina arrived in Morris Town with a list of contacts, including information on the major trade associations and Ashvane Munitions' trading ports.
"I've asked around about the grain for you, but there's nothing I can do about those twenty cannons. You'll have to find a way yourself." Jaina handed Rowan the list and found a chair to sit in.
At present, Morris Shipyard had eighteen cannons in total, intended to arm three sailing warships.
Morris Shipyard was only two days' sailing from Boralus, and it lay within the Kingdom of Kul Tiras' inland waters, where pirates rarely operated. Normally, Norwington Estate did not provide cannons to shipyards in these waters. As a precaution, however, Lord Aldrius equipped each year's commissioned warships with a small supply of cannons and ammunition when delivering them, ensuring they could reach Boralus safely.
"No problem. I'll figure something out," Rowan said.
Rowan only had his little patch of Morris Town to look after, so he did not actually need that many cannons or cannonballs. Still, as the saying went, those who failed to plan ahead would soon have trouble at their doorstep. The more equipment and weapons he had, the better. They would all come in handy someday.
"What kind of tea are you drinking?" Jaina accepted the cup of Anchor Weed tea Jenny poured for her, took a small sip, and found herself wanting more.
"Anchor Weed tea," Rowan said casually.
At the words "Anchor Weed," Jaina hurriedly took a large gulp, then frowned. "You really are extravagant. Proudmoore Keep's herbalists can't find even a pound of Anchor Weed in a whole year, yet here you are using it as tea."
Don't get me started. If I hadn't spent half a day circling the map back when I played the game without finding a single stack of Anchor Weed, I wouldn't care about the stuff either. What stood out even more in Rowan's memory was that, unless his character had alchemy, he also had to get fleeced by the auction house's profiteers. After all, these days, without drinking a flask, you could not even get into a dungeon.
Scarcity made things valuable, and that feeling of extravagance was exactly what Rowan wanted. With the air of a man with money to burn, he said, "Jenny, fill a bottle for Jaina so she can take it home to drink."
"Young Master, we're almost out of Anchor Weed tea."
"Ahem. Pretend I didn't say that. Just come by for tea more often." Rowan brazenly gave an awkward smile.
Jaina rolled her eyes at him in exasperation. "Hmph. I never said I actually wanted any. You're such a cheapskate."
"Alas, even the landlord has no grain to spare these days. I'm saving up to buy a new house in Alliance Square." Rowan set the list aside for the moment and smiled.
"Doesn't your family already have a house in Alliance Square? Besides, the houses there are so expensive. It's such a waste," Jaina said, though she already knew the answer.
"Don't you have to buy a new house when you get married?"
"Who said I was going to marry you? Don't flatter yourself."
Rowan froze and gave Jaina a bewildered look. "Did I just say I was going to marry you?"
Pleasure points from Jaina: -50.
"You're dead, Rowan!" A burst of flame flashed into existence in Jaina's hand. The dazzling flames gathered together, forming a scorching fireball.
The sunshine was pleasant, the breeze was gentle, and another brand-new day had begun.
"Young Master Rowan, what happened to your eyebrows?" Byron would be accompanying Young Master Rowan to Boralus on business today, as his only guard for the trip.
Leonard had to return to the manor to request cannons, and he had left Morris Town with the wagon convoy the day before.
Rowan's face darkened. He instinctively touched his brow and said irritably, "Please don't bring it up."
Don't bring it up? How could I not? As Young Master Rowan's only guard and a good employee of the Norwington Family, helping my superior with his troubles is part of my duty. He's in low spirits right now. This is the perfect chance to prove myself.
"Young Master, were you burned by fire magic? Tell me who did it, and I'll punish him in the name of the holy light and justice," Byron declared solemnly, brimming with righteousness.
Rowan stepped aboard the small cargo ship without acknowledging him.
Byron followed Rowan. Seeing that his young master did not want to answer, he felt a warmth in his heart. He must be worried I can't beat that mage.
"Don't be embarrassed to tell me, Young Master Rowan. I focus on retribution specialization. I'm especially good at dealing with damage-dealing classes like mages, hunters, and stealth users. Let me tell you, once I activate Crusade and unleash a full round of Judgment, any damage dealer will go down." Brimming with confidence, Byron kept chattering in Rowan's ear.
Driven to distraction by his nagging, Rowan admitted, "Jaina burned them off. When we get to the capital this time, don't forget to avenge me. If you don't, you can forget about this year's pay."
"Princess Jaina?" The corner of Byron's mouth twitched. He looked up at the sun, clasped his hands behind his back, and gave an awkward laugh, turning into a complete coward. "Actually, I focus on holy specialization."
"A holy paladin who can't even cast a low-level healing spell like Flash of Light?" Rowan asked coldly.
"Young Master, please spare me. Princess Jaina is already a Level Six Archmage. I wouldn't even survive one spell rotation against her." Thoroughly deflated, Byron pleaded pitifully.
Jaina's only sixteen, and she's already a Level Six Archmage? Isn't that a bit ridiculous?
The thought that he was still just an ordinary person left Rowan feeling decidedly aggrieved. If they got married, he could already imagine what married life would be like. He probably would not even dare breathe too loudly.
"Wait. You're a Level Four Paladin now, so what level would you have to reach to hold your own against Jaina?" Rowan asked.
Byron frowned and thought for a moment, then smacked his lips. "Honestly, at the same level, a paladin can't beat a mage no matter what. Besides, mages have a very high ceiling. If an archmage of a rank like Guardian had enough preparation time, even an army of several thousand couldn't defeat him."
An army of a thousand couldn't beat one Guardian? That's one hell of a powerhouse.
"Are they really that badass?" Rowan found it hard to believe. What would a battle between one person and a thousand even look like?
Isn't this straight out of a fucking cultivation novel?
Byron answered without hesitation. "They really are that powerful. Still, only one mage capable of becoming a Guardian comes along every few centuries. They're incredibly rare."
"No matter how you look at it, studying magic has better prospects." His conversation with Byron only strengthened Rowan's determination to become a mage.
If they had a choice, who would not want to become a mage?
"Young Master Rowan, I wanted to become a mage when I was sixteen too. But some things are decided by fate. Have you ever experienced the despair of studying magical theory for five years and practicing for three, only to achieve nothing? Ah, don't get me started." Remembering that painful chapter of his life, Byron shook his head helplessly.
Rowan patted Byron's shoulder sympathetically. "Being a paladin is pretty good too. Of course, it would be even better if you talked less."
Ding, ding, ding! Two days later, the cargo ship entered the harbor. A sailor rang the brass bell while soldiers along the waterfront directed the helmsman to berth the ship in its designated spot.
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