Inside the quiet chamber, the light was soft, and the air was filled with faint sandalwood fragrance, along with even richer Spiritual Qi. This was clearly an excellent place carefully arranged specifically to aid cultivation.
Lin Chen sat cross-legged atop a thick cushion, his eyes tightly shut. His aura was so weak it seemed as though it might gutter out like a dying candle in the wind at any moment. He did not immediately attempt to absorb the surrounding Spiritual Qi. Instead, he first sank his consciousness into his body and carefully examined his condition.
His meridians were like a dried, cracked riverbed, not a drop of true qi remaining. Near several crucial acupoints, there even lingered the stabbing pain left behind from forcibly overdrawing his strength. His Sea of Consciousness was even more terrifyingly empty, his Spiritual Power utterly depleted, leaving only a dizzying sense of weakness that refused to fade.
The Myriad Dao Furnace floated silently above his Dantian Sea of Qi. Its surface had lost all luster, and the profound patterns upon it no longer possessed their former liveliness. Like an artifact that had exhausted all its energy, it had fallen into slumber.
His condition was even worse than he had expected. Treating Su Ling'er, especially that final blow which shattered the core of the Cold Poison, had nearly drained all his strength and even damaged a portion of his foundation. Had the Myriad Dao Fusion Art not possessed such a solid foundation, an ordinary cultivation technique would likely have left behind an irreversible Dao Injury long ago.
He slowly began circulating the foundational mental method of the Myriad Dao Fusion Art, attempting to draw a thread of external Spiritual Qi into his body.
The Spiritual Qi flowed through his meridians like a thin stream. Wherever it