Hisoka's tactics were undoubtedly correct.
Lin Yan was indeed being worn down.
And the drain was immense on all three levels: spirit, qi, and essence.
Spirit referred to his divine sense.
Controlling the Gengjin Sword Pellet for such exquisitely precise attacks and defenses placed an enormous burden on his divine sense.
His brain was like a computer running at blistering speed, processing vast amounts of information in an instant and calculating tens of thousands of possible variations.
Every second, his sea of consciousness felt as though countless steel needles were piercing it over and over.
Qi referred to his true qi.
Maintaining the Sword Pellet's sharpness and executing intricate footwork both required support from the true qi in his dantian.
At that moment, the true qi in his meridians was surging and draining away at an unprecedented rate.
Essence referred to his physical stamina.
Engaging in intense close combat with a martial monster of Hisoka's caliber placed an equally enormous burden on his body.
He could feel waves of soreness beginning to spread through his muscles.
Yet Lin Yan's face remained utterly expressionless.
His heart was like an ancient well, undisturbed for ten thousand years.
He knew his weaknesses.
But he knew even better that combat was not simple addition and subtraction.
Sometimes, victory was decided not by who had more energy, but by who could seize that single, fleeting opportunity at the most crucial moment!
He was waiting.
Waiting for the moment Hisoka exposed an opening.
The battle fell into a strange stalemate.
Hisoka's attacks came like raging winds and towering waves, one after another, without end.
Lin Yan, meanwhile, was like a reef that stood unmoving through wind and rain.
Time ticked by, second after second.
On the rooftop, the two figures had become blurred whirlwinds.
The thunder