143 Standing and Kneeling (1/2)

John Senior wasn't wearing a knight's heavy armor, just hard leather armor.

It wasn't that he was too old to wear heavy armor… The lifespan of a professional was much longer than a normal person, and even aging was much slower than a normal person's.

Although John Senior was in his forties, he now looked, at most, to be in his early thirties, and that was because he had purposefully grown a full beard.

If he had shaved off his beard and gone out on the street with his son, John Junior, people who didn't know them would have thought they were brothers, not father and son.

Having someone help with putting on armor was a ritual, usually done by a knight's apprentice, and if a close offspring was asked to help with it, it was to tell them that it was almost time for them to go to war, and it was time to get used to the atmosphere of the battlefield beforehand.

John Junior was thrilled to hear his father's words.

As the only heir, he had been well-protected before and had never set foot on a battlefield.

The more that people weren't allowed to do, the more that people would focus on them.

John Junior had a special interest in the battlefield, but due to his father's orders, he never actively approached such a place.

And now, an opportunity to observe the battlefield directly, without any danger, lay before him.

John Junior didn't want to miss this opportunity.

John Senior also didn't want his son to miss this once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity, where he could teach in person.

With his son's help, John Senior finished donning his full-body hard leather armor, then turned to John Junior and said, ”Son, from today onward, you will officially appear in everyone's sight as the future heir of the city of Delpon, and from today onward, the skylarks will sing of your glory, the brooms will bloom for you, and you will become one of the most honored persons in Hollevin.”

John Junior's whole body trembled with excitement, and he dropped to one knee and looked adoringly at John Senior. ”I will always love you, my beloved father.”

While the mayor's family was showing fatherly love and filial affection, Roland and Jett were sitting in a small boat.

Although the sun was blazing overhead, so much so that one's hair was almost on fire, Jett's face was a little pale.

Roland sat across from him, flipping through the magic books he had taken from his Backpack as he said, ”Are you afraid of water? Don't you know how to swim?”

”No, I'm seasick!” Jett laughed awkwardly and dryly. ”I'm a little nauseous with this boat rocking back and forth on the waves.”

Roland thought about it for a moment, peeking over the side of the boat, and he extended his finger and tapped lightly on the river.

The thin layer of ice then rapidly thickened, and soon became a floating platform with a thickness of at least half a meter.

The small boat was also frozen in it.

Although the ice layer was still floating on the surface of the water and slowly drifting down the current, at least the boat was fixed and would no longer be bobbing around.

Jett was so happy that he jumped onto the layer of ice, stepped on it, and found that it was solid. He exclaimed, ”Oh frick, this is too awesome. What kind of magic is this? Ice Ring, or the Fingers of Frost?”

”Neither, but simply converting the magical elements into ice nature and injecting it into the surface of the river.”

”Like the feeling of dropping a bit of ink into freshwater?” Jett asked.

Roland nodded, and he too jumped from the small boat and stepped onto the ice.

The five-meter radius circular ice floating platform was already quite large if it was considered a riverboat.

With both of them on it, it still seemed very spacious.

Due to the chill of ice layer, the two of them gradually felt that the temperature was becoming quite cool.

Jett looked at the floating ice beneath his feet and then at Roland, asking the question he had been wondering: ”What is your current mana limit?”

”200!” This wasn't important information, so Roland didn't hide it.

There was a formula for mana growth that could be applied, and with the addition of the Spell Seeker title, it would be clear to anyone who had the heart to do the math, so there was no point in lying about it.

Jett looked at the sky with a bit of sadness. ”I'm only at 82, and that's also counting the specialty additions. We're all spellcasters, and our levels are the same, so why is there such a big difference in our mana bar values?”

Roland said helplessly, ”We mages mainly stack intelligence growth, whereas you priests mainly stack resistance—one has a high mana cap and one has a fast mana regeneration speed. We can't compare with each other.”

”But you have a special exclusive mana regeneration skill, double the effect!” Jett looked at him grudgingly. ”It's much better than what we have.”

Oh… it seems to be true. Roland not only had twice the maximum mana Jett did, but more importantly, his mana regeneration was much faster than Jett's, who was a priest.

Although priests didn't have to learn spells to cast them as mages did, when they cast spells, they had to use their mental power to communicate with the gods' spiritual power and borrow the power of the gods to accomplish the purpose of spellcasting.

This was why things like mana were important to priests as well.

”Forget it, there's no comparison between an ordinary person and a genius.” Jett was also quite open-minded. ”Do you think John Senior and them will fall for it?”

Roland thought about it and said, ”There should be a good chance that they'll fall for it.”

”Why would you make such an inference? As for John Senior's personality, we all shouldn't know much about it.”

Roland threw the magic book back into his Backpack and said, ”I don't know if you've ever played the online game Mount \u0026 Blade, the kind where you can lead an army.”

Jett shook his head.

”Mount \u0026 Blade is supposed to mimic cold weapon warfare. I like to use light cavalry the most. Once I saw someone on their own or slightly away from the main army, I would instinctively take advantage of this opportunity to charge and strike,” Roland said rather nostalgically. ”Most of the time, it would be successful. The players who mainly played cavalry had this habit of looking for 'openings'—it was even an instinct, a rather confident kind. it's just that, sometimes, it's a trap set by the enemy, and when you charge in front of them, you'll find a few troops suddenly rushing out next to you to surround you.”