"As expected," Alan thought, a glint of understanding flashing through his eyes.
He had already come up with a rough answer in his mind.
Old Gayle's previous explanations had been far too vague. Besides, someone like Rose Duke Alice—a peerless genius encountered only once in centuries—was ultimately an exception. The method she used to master mana Overpressure couldn't simply be generalized and applied to others.
It was even possible that Alice had been born with a natural form of mana Overpressure. It was ingrained in her, almost instinctual.
Trying to use his own hard work to exchange for something others were born with was obviously an unfair and losing trade.
Alan slowly clenched his fist and abruptly punched toward the crystal giant's chest.
This punch carried no mana, no enchantment—just a venting blow, thrown in sheer frustration.
