Open fire immediately

After a full day of work, all thirty-six cannons had been installed.

Everything was now ready. All that remained was for Byron and Ellen to bring the pirates' location back to Morris Town.

At dusk, a small boat trailing wisps of smoke appeared on the sea.

The little cargo boat had barely docked when Byron staggered out of the cabin. He lost his footing and nearly fell into the sea.

Leonard hurried to steady Byron and quietly asked what had happened.

Ellen was in even worse shape. His leather armor had been blasted into beggar's rags, exposing bronze skin at his knees and chest. Clearly, they had just endured a heavy bombardment.

"What happened?" Rowan asked in disbelief at the sight of the two bedraggled men.

Could there really be a powerful class wielder among those pirates, someone capable of beating Byron and Ellen into this state?

Byron's face crumpled. Pointing at Ellen, he looked ready to cry, but no tears came. "Don't even ask. Seven hours after we set out, we found the pirates' base. We landed on the southern beach to scout out how many of them there were. Once we'd finished gathering information on their numbers, the pirates actually spotted us. They saw we were class wielders and didn't dare come down and fight us, so the cowardly bastards bombarded us with cannons."

Rowan felt a little relieved. I knew it. How could those pirates possibly beat Byron and Ellen into this state?

Still, one of you is an Assassination Rogue and the other a Retribution Paladin, both above level three. Did a few cannons really have to leave you looking like this?

"Then how did you get blasted into such a state?"

Byron looked wordlessly up at the sky, then pointed at Ellen. "Don't ask, Young Master. Ask him."

Ellen drained a waterskin of fresh water. Slumped on the ground against the harbor's stone railing, he accused Byron, "If I hadn't had you with me, I could've escaped cleanly with Shadowstep. Those pirates wouldn't even have spotted me."

"Bullshit! You were fucking hiding in Shadowstep, so why were the cannonballs still flying at your head? You walking disaster!"

Ellen was helpless to explain it either. He had clearly hidden himself with Shadowstep. Normally, the pirates firing the cannons should have lost sight of him long before and turned their fire on Byron instead.

But when they bombarded Byron, the cannonballs scattered everywhere without hitting him even once.

Seeing that none of the cannonballs raining down had struck him, Byron began looking for a chance to flee alongside Ellen.

Soon, something bizarre happened. The pirates' cannonballs struck Ellen and Byron with uncanny accuracy. Out of every ten shots, at least five hit them.

If Byron hadn't cast Hand of Protection on Ellen, allowing him to weather the bombardment and escape the pursuing cannonballs, both of them would have died on that beach.

Ellen briefly described what had happened, leaving Rowan shaking his head over and over.

Could something that bizarre really happen? Was this the legendary "arrow magnet" constitution? No, a cannonball magnet would be more accurate.

After talking for a while, even Ellen began to question everything he knew. But as a good leader and a spokesman for Azeroth's science and technology, Rowan had never believed in baseless nonsense like jinxes or cannonball-magnet constitutions.

"It's all superstition. How could something so baseless possibly be real?" Rowan patted Ellen's shoulder and gestured for him to go back and rest.

Just as Ellen was about to leave, Rowan added, "Oh, right. You don't need to come when the warship sets sail. Stay home and get some proper rest."

"What about Byron?" The corner of Ellen's mouth twitched. He knew Young Master Rowan hadn't admitted it, but he was still worried about Ellen's cannonball-magnet constitution.

Rowan gave a light cough and glanced at Byron. "He's coming. After all, Byron is the only healer in our party."

In the soft light of dawn, the soldiers and sailors accompanying them boarded in orderly fashion, preparing for their mission to wipe out the pirates.

Rowan had changed into a military uniform that day, one Jaina had given him earlier.

Though it was his first time wearing it, it fit quite well.

It was the standard uniform of the Kul Tiras Navy, with a green base and leather armor protecting the chest and thighs. The whole outfit had a substantial feel and looked smart.

The only blemish was that the military cap was green.

Although a green hat carried no implication of being cuckolded in Azeroth, Rowan still felt a little uncomfortable wearing it.

After leaving the harbor, the warship followed Byron's route along an east-west heading, toward Screaming Wharf.

About two or three hours later, the warship rounded a small hill ahead, revealing that a small pirate base really was hidden there.

The pirates lived between two small hills, their camp tucked neatly inside a U-shaped stretch of terrain.

Fleet routes across the inland sea always ran east to west, making this place a blind spot.

But then something interesting happened. Just as Rowan's warship passed the headland, the pirates had boarded their own warship and were raising sail to leave their base.

Rowan was stunned. He hadn't expected to come face-to-face with these fucking pirates so soon.

At that moment, the pirates' captain, a native-born Kul Tiran, watched a medium-sized warship sail into their base, an excited smile spreading across his face.

"First five Iron Smelting Blast Furnaces, and now a Sailing Warship delivered free of charge. Looks like this entire inland sea is paved with gold." Lambert flexed his wrists as he watched the Sailing Warship approach, then beckoned and continued, "Hand me the megaphone."

His first mate handed Lambert a horn-shaped megaphone, an indispensable tool for raiding merchant ships.

All he had to do was aim the broadside cannons at a merchant ship and shout a few lines about paying up to stay alive, and the merchants aboard would obediently hand over their money.

Making money this way was far too easy. He could earn it while lying back and firing a few cannons.

Such an easy, carefree life was much more comfortable than serving in the navy.

"You on that sailing ship, listen up! Pull ashore immediately, or my cannons will send you to the bottom right now!" Lambert raised the megaphone and shouted.

Hearing Lambert's demand for surrender, Rowan waved a hand. Leonard turned the helm, bringing their broadside cannons to bear on the pirate warship.

The first and second gun decks were armed entirely with Shipbreaker Cannons. Eighteen cannons on one side all took aim at the pirate warship.

Lambert was waiting for the sailing warship to pull ashore when eighteen cannons suddenly appeared in his field of vision.

Eighteen cannons on one side meant thirty-six on both. Was this fucking ship the flagship of the First Fleet?

"Holy shit! Scatter! Look for an opening and prepare to fire!"

Before Lambert had finished shouting, a slightly youthful voice rang out loud and clear: "Open fire immediately!"