Chapter 968

Beneath the airship, after landing, Ang broke off the first joint of one of his fingers and held it up before the sapling.

The first joints of all ten fingers on this construct body were crafted from World Tree material. Their primary advantage was increased flexibility and sensitivity; the fingers provided tactile feedback on grip strength, allowing for precise control so as not to crush objects.

The identical-looking planting constructs of the Fiele Empire lacked these fingertips. Combined with the absence of black crystal, while they were nominally the same model, their utility was far inferior, often relegating them to mere manual labor without the ability to perform independent tasks.

This was the advantage brought by the World Tree. Ang had already plucked three or four fingers; if this continued, all ten would be used up.

Of course, using them up didn't matter. He could just whittle new ones from freshly grown World Tree branches; Ang carried a large supply of them as spares.

The reason he used his fingers was that they were "old stock." They were made from the World Tree of this world, and naturally, he had nothing else to use unless he was willing to plant the sapling itself.

Although he was reluctant to plant the sapling, establishing a connection was acceptable. The sapling extended a true leaf and touched the fingertip lightly.

The fingertip immediately sprouted a tender bud, which then drew upon energy to grow, reaching a height of over ten centimeters in moments.

Ang dug a hole, planted the sapling, and firmly stamped a footprint over it.

The sapling waved its true leaves excitedly, sending out a fervent message: "Exert—grow—exert—grow—"

The surrounding crops surged with boundless vitality.

Vitality was the nutrient for the World Tree's growth. The "Death-Speed Aura" Ang stamped down accelerated the plants' growth; the vitality produced by the plants' growth in turn fueled the World Tree; and as the World Tree grew, it improved the environment, sheltering the plants in return. They were a perfect match.

However, the range of the Death-Speed Aura was ultimately limited. This vast, boundless plain was far beyond what a single aura could cover. But that didn't matter. The sapling shook itself vigorously, calling out: "Exert—exert—exert—grow—"

When the sapling changed its rhythm, the surrounding plants swayed along with it. From the sky, it looked like ripples spreading out in all directions, emitting a soft, rustling sound—the whisper of the forest.

The signal for growth spread across the entire plain through the forest's whisper. All the plants accelerated their growth. The toxic sun in the sky seemed less terrifying; as long as you grew fast enough, the damage couldn't catch up to you.

The rice, having entered the grain-filling stage, plumped up rapidly, turning a golden yellow and bowing the stalks.

Negris fluttered down, feeling somewhat moved: "This works too? And without even needing to use elemental conversion?"

A catastrophe that threatened to span all planes and extinguish all life had been resolved so lightly by Ang. There were even multiple ways he could have solved it. He was truly convinced.

Just then, the sapling stopped abruptly and shouted with effort: "Ya—ya—"

Ang was momentarily puzzled, then hurried toward the World Tree.

The newly planted World Tree hadn't grown tall; it remained a small, ten-centimeter sapling. Ang had grown accustomed to controlling it to grow in a concealed form.

Whether it was the Burning Wind Forest or the God-Hammer Plane, it could easily blend into its surroundings, making it impossible for anyone to detect that a colossal entity was present.

So, despite the sapling looking unremarkable, its root system had already extended over a vast area, even reaching dozens of kilometers deep into the earth.

The sapling was trying to tell him that there was something underground.

What was it? Ang stamped his foot on the sapling, and the previously inconspicuous plant immediately grew, wrapping itself around Ang.

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" Negris hurriedly jumped onto Ang's back and held on tight.

The sapling wrapped them both up and slowly retracted into the ground. Once they were underground, only the unremarkable little sapling remained on the surface.

Negris felt as if they were traveling through wood fibers; ahead lay nothing but the grain of the wood. After an unknown amount of time, the space suddenly opened up, and they arrived in a sealed chamber.

This space was large, but most of it was occupied by a massive root system. Sensing their arrival, a very faint consciousness emerged from the roots and asked slowly: "Who... are you?"

Negris gasped, immediately realizing what this was: "A World Tree!"

"A World Tree? Such an ancient term. You may also call me... the Lord of Life..." the consciousness replied sluggishly, though its sluggishness was different from the God of Life's; it carried a frailty like a lamp running out of oil.

"What happened to you?" Negris asked.

"I am dying. Who are you..." the Lord of Life replied slowly.

"Uh, you're dying too? You aren't going to die in another nine thousand years, are you?" Negris asked subconsciously, still traumatized by that phrase.

The Lord of Life replied slowly: "I am one hundred and five thousand years old. I have already died, but it seems new life is budding, so I woke up to take a look. However, I may not be able to hold on much longer. It is a pleasure to meet you..."

One hundred thousand years old? Negris's heart stirred. Was this World Tree referring to the budding new life in the Burning Wind Forest? Had it experienced a resurgence because Ang had catalyzed a new World Tree?

The sapling suddenly waved its true leaves, sending a fervent message to the roots: "Exert—grow—exert—grow—"

"Hmm...?" The World Tree seemed truly at the end of its tether; only at this moment did it seem to notice the sapling's presence: "Void... Void Tree? Ah? No, Tree of Myriad Worlds? Are you the Tree of Myriad Worlds?"

"Ya—ya—" the sapling sent a fervent message.

The roots trembled uncontrollably. The root hairs, which had almost merged with the soil, moved rapidly, twisting together in front of Ang to form a tall treant.

The treant bowed its waist, raised its right hand high above its head, and said slowly: "I pay respects to the Lord of all Life Trees in the Myriad Worlds. May the Tree God protect the Myriad Worlds."

The sapling waved its true leaves, sending a fervent message: "Exert—grow—exert—grow—"

The treant said with a speed slightly faster than "slowly": "I thank the Tree God for the grace. My life is a continuation of yours..."

"What's going on? You don't have to die?" Negris was confused. What was happening? Had the sapling saved a hundred-thousand-year-old World Tree?

The treant replied slowly: "No. The cycle of life is something even the Tree God cannot change. But the Tree God's blessing allows my lineage to continue. I thank the Tree God for the protection..."

As the treant spoke, its voice grew weaker, but its raised right hand slowly sprouted a new bud. The bud grew rapidly, putting forth branches, leaves, flowers, and finally, a fist-sized, emerald-green fruit.

Ang plucked the fruit, and the treant's hand, torso, roots, and even the root system withered at a speed visible to the naked eye. This World Tree, which had lived for one hundred thousand years, finally perished at this moment, leaving behind only a single fruit.