Ye Lin waved a hand to show it was nothing serious, while Poison Venerable's face was full of worry.
Ever since Ye Lin had slain Lu Cang last time, he had fallen straight into a coma. And now, Ye Lin was weak again.
He had no idea what exactly was wrong with Ye Lin.
But such a powerful secret art could not possibly come without a price. Ye Lin must have been bearing pressure beyond anything they could imagine.
Meanwhile, in the distance, Ye Lin crushed over a hundred interlopers to death with a single palm.
This was already beyond the strength of a True Immortal. He had never heard of a secret art capable of unleashing such combat power, but the price surely could not be small.
And all those who had died were interlopers, people Ye Lin could afford to kill. After all, the present-world prodigies were nowhere near as valuable as those interlopers.
Those present-world prodigies who had submitted already had little fortune left on them. After all, only the stronger could bear fortune—how much fortune could those bastards who had already attached themselves to others possibly possess?
And more than half of that fortune was most likely carried by these interlopers.
Those bearers of fortune were already dead, so the fortune on them naturally came to Ye Lin.
After all, fortune could not simply vanish into thin air.
This time, Ye Lin had struck it rich. He would always gain more than he lost.
Glancing at the panel, Ye Lin felt even more invigorated.
He had consumed a full five hundred million points of fortune, yet now his fortune points were approaching one million.
This was an enormous harvest. It was hard to imagine what kind of figure his fortune points would reach if he carried