147 Miscalculation

Roland's task at this stage had been completed, and the rest was all up to Hawk and Link's efforts.

Even with the specialty of Roland's Zeal which had the effect of doubling mana regeneration, he still wouldn't have any combat power for at least three hours.

The two self-destructing fireball spells completely drained his mana bar, and the magic recoil caused by an empty mana bar directly created a debuff that was recognized by the system.

"Heavy Magic Recoil: You have extremely overstretched your mental powers, so you will be unable to use any magic for three hours."

There was also a small icon at the back that was responsible for indicating how much time was left for this debuff.

Roland had just tried it in disbelief to see if it was true that he couldn't use magic, and as a result, his head hurt so much that it nearly cramped his cheeks.

And at this moment, in Jett's live feed, the chat records directly started pouring on to the screen.

"Holy s**, this Link is cunning, not only did he set up heel ropes but he also actually covered them with mud."

"Isn't this a normal operation?"

"As a prairie folk, I despise this kind of horse-unfriendly behavior (Doge)."

"I was just thinking, what a pity that all this horse meat is going to waste. It can be steamed, boiled, fried, or roasted, it'll all be delicious. What a waste."

"No, don't you guys feel speechless? Another home invasion tactic, can't they just go in openly? People will turn dastardly if they keep fighting in this sneaky way. Especially that Roland, always blasting open people's gates with a single magic shot, is that interesting at all?"

"What the f***, there's something wrong with the upstairs. Roland and the others have less than half the numbers of the other side, no armor, no weapons, and they're still using stones—stone pikes. In this situation, you actually say you want to fight openly. You're probably brain damaged."

"If I were Roland, I'd find it interesting."

"+1"

This was followed by a series of uniform responses.

Roland cracked up at this. These idiotic netizens were quite funny.

However, compared to Roland's relaxed mood, John Senior and John Junior were not so delighted.

It could even be described as a gloominess of the lowest possible threshold.

When they rode anxiously back to the front of the castle, they found that the elite cavalry regiment that their family had managed to cultivate was almost completely wiped out, most of the men and horses lying on the ground.

The screams of the men and the painful neighing of the horses mingled together, and it was almost tearjerking to hear.

The horses that had tripped and fallen to the ground, with their front legs broken, lay on their sides, screaming helplessly.

"You!" John Senior's face turned extremely cold as he looked ahead at Link, glaring at him gloomily and gritting his teeth as he hacked out these words from his throat: "Golden Sons."

The voice had a slight hiss to it, cold and gloomy like a viper that had just crawled out of hibernation and was flicking out its tongue.

Link stood in front of the ruined castle gate. The soldiers behind him had taken control of the entire castle.

John Senior saw his wife and daughter, who had been forced to sit on the second-floor balcony.

Although they were not tied up, they looked nervous, stiff, and obviously in great shock.

John Senior dismounted, took two steps forward, and said furiously, "You are in rebellion. Put down the weapons in your hands, and honestly accept due punishment. Otherwise, you will be enemies of the entire noble class in the future."

"You can't represent the entire noble class." Link smirked. "I've heard such threats too many times, and they're too baseless. Let's talk about something more substantial."

John Junior also jumped off his horse and interjected with a roar: "Link, I considered you all as friends before, and this is how you repay us?"

Labeling and occupying the moral high ground were all common aristocratic debating tactics.

"Repay you?" Link tilted his head to the side, looking quite cute though he was obviously a sturdy man. "What have you done to benefit us? Give us a job, a salary, or a life? You're a funny one, aren't you? You think you're so high and mighty as a nobleman that to smile at us commoners is a gift from heaven?"

John Junior's expression turned sullen.

Link was indeed right. John Junior had always believed that he was good to the commoners, and that was because of his pride as a noble that prevented him from causing problems with the commoners.

He considered it a great gift to Roland and the other Golden Sons that he had invited them to his first two banquets and expressed his goodwill.

But he never felt that there was an obvious, malicious intent toward Roland and the others in his actions.

John Senior stopped John Junior and glared at Link. Suppressing his anger, he said slowly, "What problems do you want to talk about?"

"Now that we're victorious, we want to make a pact. After all, we love life and don't want the battle to get out of hand." Link continued to speak with a smile.

"What pact."

"A non-aggression pact, and you'll have to compensate us with enough gold."

"That's impossible!" John Senior said, emphasizing each word.

Link smiled cheerfully. "It was Hawk's idea, I wasn't sure I agreed with it. It's times like these when you have to destroy the root and branch, but he's the deputy leader, so I have to listen to him. Old Mayor, if you don't want to accept this ordinance, I'll be the happiest one, so if you want to reconsider—don't make me so happy, okay?"

Dog sh**t, this Golden Son has mental problems.

Looking at Link's slightly twisted smile, John Senior's fury grew even more.

At this moment, a large number of messy footsteps came from the rear. It turned out to be several hundred city guards rushing over—two legs weren't as fast as four, after all.

With the soldiers by his side, John was even more confident, and he waved his big hand and roared, "All of you, attack, kill them all for me."

John Junior was shocked. "Father, Mother and my sister are still in their hands, what if they…"

"No need to worry, son, I'll teach you another lesson." John Senior looked at his wife and daughter and said indifferently, "It is true that women are meant to be used for love, but they have a duty to sacrifice for the family at a critical time. They are usually well fed, well clothed, and don't have to worry about anything. This good life, in due time, has its price to pay."

John Junior still wanted to say something. "But…"

John Senior waved his hand offhandedly. "If I have scruples this time, all of my enemies in the future will use this method to force me into submission. Remember, once you become the mayor of the city in the future, you must at least have no weaknesses in your feelings."

John Junior looked at his mother and sister not too far away, turning his head and closing his eyes helplessly.

The infantrymen behind him swept past him like water.

Link stepped back, and a hundred or so beggars rushed out from behind him, one group setting up their thick wooden square shields first, while another group hid with their pikes, slipping only their pikes through the gaps.

John Senior's eyes narrowed: a phalanx formation!

With this formation set up, the entrance was directly blocked. It was almost impossible to storm the castle.

Where did these beggar soldiers get their weapons? The tip of each pike was made of iron.