The Frog's Soul Is So Weak

"Ha ha!"

The moment he stepped out the door, Li Ziran suddenly froze in place and laughed foolishly. Turning to look at the towering Mage Tower, he no longer felt as inferior as he had just moments ago.

Everyone had their own flaws. One should not deny oneself because of them. The first principle of survival was to acknowledge reality, and the prerequisite for acknowledging reality was understanding that everything could be perfect in its own way, shortcomings included.

He had never been able to sense the existence of elements. If not for Karen, he would not even have known what undead energy looked like.

Just as Sandrew had said, he was an idiot in the Necromantic Domain. Li Ziran admitted that fact.

But admitting it did not mean meekly resigning himself to fate. A person's success was often forged in adversity.

Like the Orcs—they cast aside abundant resources and willingly entered vicious lands to temper their Battle Qi. Although their destructive power was far inferior to that of mages, their ability to survive far surpassed them.

At this moment, not only was he not discouraged, he was grateful to have such a strict teacher. The harsher Sandrew's demands, the more likely he was to master Corpse Witch Summoning as quickly as possible.

Anyone who had been hammered by life would understand how extraordinary a strict teacher could be.

After all, no one went out of their way to offend another person for no reason. Everyone understood that smiling faces could earn smiling faces in return, yet they did not understand the other side of it: they could not buy a superb improvement in one's craft.

"Sandrew, be even harsher next time!"

Li Ziran gave the Mage Tower a deep bow, then turned and rushed toward his little nest. He