"Fellow Daoist, Fellow Daoist, you paid such a tremendous price to bring rain, all just to give these commoners a sliver of hope for survival. It truly isn't worth it."
"With that move, I'm afraid you've already expended thirty percent of your spiritual energy, haven't you? Recovering that thirty percent won't be easy."
"Fellow Daoist, you truly acted too impulsively."
At that moment, a streak of sword light flew in from afar and landed steadily beside Ye Lin. A middle-aged man stood with both feet atop a Flying Sword, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked down at the mortals below, who were in utter chaos. Then he looked at the dark clouds overhead and the torrential rain pouring down, shaking his head helplessly as he spoke.
In his eyes, what Ye Lin had done was truly rather foolish.
They did everything they could to conserve the spiritual energy within their bodies. Northern Continent had already become a dead zone for cultivation; even its laws and rules were chaotic to the extreme.
Once spiritual energy was wasted, recovering it was harder than climbing to the heavens.
Even a minor spell like summoning rain was exceedingly difficult to cast.
If one's spiritual energy was depleted, there was even a chance that one's cultivation realm would fall.
On the land of Northern Continent, once one's realm fell, it was all over. Without a proper stroke of fortune in this lifetime, one would likely never have another chance to break through again.
They paid a huge price merely to preserve their current realms. After all, once they fell, they would never be able to return to how things were.
Like this, with every cycle they would fall lower and lower, until they might even become mortals in the end.
Ye Lin