Chapter 243: Considerations

If it had been Rulans who asked Ronin to escort the supplies and represent the Wushan family to visit Chishan Town, Ronin would have gone without hesitation.

But it was Viggins who brought it up.

To be honest, Ronin held only a polite demeanor toward his father; there was no real closeness between them.

They lived separate lives, and a basic level of courtesy was more than enough.

If asked to undertake something troublesome, Ronin would need to think carefully.

The development plans for the Northern Wushan Domain had already been settled two months ago—tasks were delegated to Wilson and his team of officials; he had no need to concern himself further.

Unless, of course, the soaking materials for papermaking in the Northern Wushan Domain still hadn’t been processed.

If he delayed too long, those materials might spoil.

Meanwhile, seeing that Ronin hadn’t outright refused, Viggins assumed he was considering it and pressed on:

“You’ve never been to Chishan Town, but a knight squad will accompany you—there’s nothing to worry about.”

“When I was your age, though I wasn’t as strong as you, I’d already traveled far and wide, broadening my horizons. Now that you’re a High-Grade Peak Knight, you ought to get out and see more.”

He added, “Exposure broadens one’s understanding—it’ll help you govern the Northern Wushan Domain.”

It was surprising to hear such wisdom from Viggins, yet after all these years of wandering, he hadn’t gained much insight at all.

Ronin smiled, neither agreeing nor refusing, and asked, “By what authority are you asking me to do this?”

Viggins didn’t catch the implication. “What do you mean?”

Breton blinked, watching his brother—he’d assumed Ronin would agree immediately.

Diane paused her fork, studying the father and son. She understood: Ronin didn’t want to go. At least, not casually.

Rulans raised an eyebrow, sipping his wine slowly.

“If you’re asking as my father, I’ll need to think carefully. A trip to Chishan Town will take considerable time, and the Northern Wushan Domain has many matters awaiting my attention—I may not be able to spare it.”

“But if you’re asking as the First Heir of Northern Wushan, I believe I should consult Grandfather first.”

Viggins thought Ronin was about to raise some grand objection—only to find it was these two trivial points.

“Do we really need to trouble Grandfather over something so minor?”

Viggins shook his head. “As for the time wasted—Chishan Town is much closer than your Forest Town. Even with the supplies, round trip and your stay, a month is more than enough.”

Over the years, Rulans had entrusted most affairs to Viggins; minor matters were no longer his concern.

Viggins believed asking Ronin for a favor was insignificant and hadn’t bothered to consult Rulans.

“A month won’t delay you much,” he added.

What Ronin truly meant was this: the Viscount of Northern Wushan owed allegiance to Rulans—not to Viggins, who hadn’t yet inherited the Marquisate. He must answer to the Marquis himself.

But Viggins, the Count of Wushan City, heard none of this.

As Ronin pondered his reply, Rulans cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Tomorrow is Ronin’s birthday.”

“I know, Father.”

Viggins snapped back. “The supplies still need a few days to prepare—I’m not asking him to leave tomorrow.”

But Rulans ignored him, turning to Breton.

“Breton has prepared a dagger he forged himself for Ronin. Diane has arranged luncheons and dinners for these next two days. What gift have you, as a father, prepared?”

“This…”

Viggins scratched his head awkwardly, embarrassed. “I’ve been too busy lately—I forgot. But Ronin, don’t worry, your gift won’t be missing!”

Rulans rose, speaking coolly.

“Even between father and son, affection must be nurtured. You can’t always command your son as a father, especially on days like tomorrow—things should be prepared in advance.”

“Ronin isn’t just your son—he’s the Lord of Northern Wushan, a noble of no small standing. Among nobles, everything is an exchange of favors. If you ask for his help, you must offer something worthy.”

As he spoke, Most had already pulled out his chair.

“Enough. I’ve eaten—I’ll take my leave. Diane, thank you for the dinner. Excellent.”

Diane rose with a smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Viggins grimaced. “Fine, Father. I understand.”

He turned to Ronin. “Alright, then—what do you want for your gift? But let’s be clear—I don’t have much money to spare.”

It was blunt—utterly without formality, as if Ronin were no stranger at all.

“Talking about money ruins sentiment.”

Ronin smiled. “But I haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know when I have.”

“Fair enough. As soon as you decide, if I can manage it, I’ll get it for you.”

What Ronin hadn’t decided on wasn’t merely the gift—he hadn’t even decided whether to go.

His knowledge of Chishan Town amounted to two things:

First, the Fifth Knightly Company of Wushan Ridge was stationed there, led by Korian Hanson.

Second, Chishan Town housed an iron mine…

A thought stirred in Ronin’s mind. If he could secure even a share of that mine, Northern Wushan wouldn’t need to import ore from elsewhere.

With a steady iron supply, smelting via blast furnace would swiftly produce tools, dramatically accelerating agricultural progress in the domain.

Moreover, knights and warhorses alike could be better armored.

Too bad—though Viggins had promised a gift, Ronin doubted he could extract even a sliver of the Chishan iron mine from him.

“What should I ask for?”

With that question lingering, Ronin left the dining hall.

“Brother, want a nighttime sparring session?” Breton followed.

“Of course!”

Ronin snapped back to attention and followed Breton to the rear courtyard for post-meal exercise.

Once Ronin was gone, Viggins couldn’t help complaining.

“That boy—he’s grown strong, and now he doesn’t even bother being polite with me.”

He remembered when he could scold or strike Ronin at will. Now, he dared not.

On one hand, he’d lost a leg—he’d grown weaker.

On the other, Ronin had displayed extraordinary power earlier this year, defeating Rayson himself. That made Viggins hesitate to treat him as before.

“Breton says he feels Ronin’s already a Bronze Knight.”

“What?”

Viggins nearly spat out his juice in shock. “An illusion? An eighteen-year-old Bronze Knight? He’s stronger than my brother?”

Diane watched the servants clear the table, leaning back in her chair with a faint sigh.

Perhaps, indeed, Ronin surpassed the once-great prodigy of Wushan Ridge—Gremes.

You’d better think carefully about what gift to prepare for Luo Ning tomorrow,” she said with a smile. “Otherwise, I doubt Luo Ning will be willing to run this errand for you.”

“Hmph, if he won’t go, then let him not. Don’t you think I can find someone else?”

Yet, despite his words, Viggins rose and went to his study, sifting through his collection for something rare and valuable to give Luo Ning. (End of chapter)