Fang Han withdrew his hand and continued forward.
The decaying leaves in the forest were still soft and made no sound, and the ancient trees all around remained vast and dense.
Sunlight filtered down through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows across his shoulders.
A short while later, Fang Han stopped again.
Ahead, beneath an ancient tree so thick it would take several people to wrap their arms around it, a piece of ore lay half-buried among the gnarled roots.
The ore was about the size of a washbasin and was a dark purple color. Its surface was covered in a dense layer of natural crystals, which gave off an uncanny purple luster in the sunlight.
The glow wasn't blinding, yet it carried an indescribable, sharp quality.
Fang Han bent down and gently tapped the surface of the ore.
The ore let out a crisp, lingering hum, as if he had tapped a piece of masterfully forged steel.
