"The ability to survive underwater and dual magic specialisation of wind and water, coupled with the racial special ability 'Silent Spell'. Is it worth such a heavy price?" Richard sighed regretfully, shaking his head.
"Is it worth it? Not worth it?" Prince Moore grimaced, eyes fixed on Richard, "The practice of fallen magic is not easy, Lord Richard. You are really unlucky. If you hadn't reached the mage level all of a sudden, or if you had progressed gradually, learning the 'metabolism technique' to disguise and refine, or, to put it another way, if you hadn't let the Evil-eye Tyrant know about your real strength, perhaps you wouldn't face this disaster today."
When the conversation came to this point, everyone understood. Prince Moore had spoken in a roundabout way, but his implications were obvious: the Evil-eye Tyrant was after 'Blood for Blood'. Indeed, for anyone, gaining the power of a mage or a Saint Chiao without decades of daily practice was enough to risk their lives.
