"Snap..."
The Old Tree Spirit's swing looked feather-light, much like an old mortal using a cane to swat his grandson. Compared to Ancestor Taishi's palm, it seemed tiny, striking a mountain. Yet, the scene was terrifying—Ancestor Taishi's palm shattered directly at the spot of impact.
A crack appeared first, then spread across the entire palm, shattering like porcelain.
Ancestor Taishi, both shocked and furious, staggered backward, retracting his hand. But the blow from the Old Tree Spirit had already spread to his arm. As he withdrew his hand, the entire forearm turned to fragments, the fragments to dust, which fell onto Red Cliff, forming the most fertile soil as nourishment for the old roots.
"You reach for Mount Fusang, I will smack your hand. You dare to come for people, I will smack you down!"
The Old Tree Spirit stood proudly, his small stature exuding a majestic aura, pointing at Ancestor Taishi and shouting angrily.
Silence!
