After lunch, Pan Long spent some more time breaking down all the Orichalcum ore.
In the end, he obtained roughly ten jin of Orichalcum—or rather, Orichalcum.
Because it spread out like a mass of roots, those ten jin took up quite a lot of space.
Pan Long tried to squeeze it into a ball with his True Qi, but it did not budge.
Neither the thick "main roots" nor the slender "rootlets" yielded in the slightest.
"Huh?!"
Startled, Pan Long picked up a piece of Orichalcum "root" and squeezed it hard in his palm.
This time, he was serious. He brought his extraordinary strength fully to bear and even reinforced it with True Qi.
With a grip like that, ordinary rock went without saying. He could have squeezed even hundred-times-refined steel like mud.
He might even have forced the finest essence out of the metal, as a Formation would when refining it, and squeezed out something like "iron essence" or Black Iron by brute force.
But the root-shaped Orichalcum remained motionless. Even its finest rootlets were unchanged.
"Interesting! Interesting!"
Pan Long could not help laughing.
This time, he placed the Orichalcum between his palms and pressed with both hands.
From his face down his neck to his arms, his skin flushed red. Veins bulged, his muscles swelled like blocks of stone, and his True Qi seethed like fire. If the thick walls and heavy door had not contained it, his True Qi might have risen like a column of beacon smoke.
Nothing in the world should have been able to withstand such tremendous force through the strength of its material alone.
This world held many powerful treasures so sturdy that even Pan Long could do nothing to them. But their strength came not only from their materials. More important was