Room 103.
The door clicked shut, cutting off every prying gaze from outside.
Lin Yan collapsed onto the sofa as though every bone in his body had been pulled out. He did not want to move so much as a finger.
The strength he had forced himself to maintain outside dissipated, and crushing exhaustion and weakness engulfed him like a tsunami.
His face was deathly pale, his lips cracked, and needles of pain still stabbed through his sea of consciousness.
"Hey! How are you feeling?"
Gon and Killua immediately gathered around him. Wing hurried forward and pressed two fingers against Lin Yan's wrist.
The moment they made contact, Wing's probing fingers stiffened.
Empty.
Lin Yan's body was frighteningly empty.
The aura that had surged like a mighty river earlier had now dried up to a mere trickle.
At his Dantian, the energy core Wing had previously sensed-blazing like a star-had also grown dim, as though it might go out at any moment.
"Your aura... is almost completely depleted!"
Wing spoke in shock. "What exactly did you do back there? You were only cutting through Hisoka's Nen pressure. How could it take this much out of you? You were practically burning through your own life!"
"I had no choice. Without that move, you two would've been crippled."
Lin Yan waved a hand weakly. "He was serious. His malice could directly damage the mind and soul."
He knew perfectly well that his Sword Intent Shatters Illusion might have looked effortless, but it was the strongest trump card he could currently use-and his most draining move.
It had exhausted not only his true qi, but also his spirit as a Taoist cultivator.
Spirit meant the mind, the will, the soul.
Depleting his spirit was a hundred times more serious than depleting his qi.