Suddenly, a tender green shoot sprouted from his neck and spewed forth blood.
"The old wood is reborn. Cutting wood is cutting me."
"A hundred years of cutting wood, how can life and death affect me?"
An ethereal voice echoed in all directions.
With a boom, a towering ancient tree appeared on Cen Qiaofu's neck where his head should have been.
Lush tree roots shot out from under his feet. Some pierced into the Great Path, while others penetrated the ground as they crazily absorbed the nutrients.
As the ground cracked, old trees started to appear, one after another.
In just a few breaths of time, the wilderness and sparse forest within a few miles had turned into a lush primitive forest.
Wang Dachui was terrified.
He had forgotten that even if he did not dare to use his spiritual source, Cen Qiaofu had transcended the tribulation, so he didn't have this restriction!