In a high-level martial arts game, a wife is given to you at the start.

Perhaps this altar is one of the entrances to that "ancient realm".

This thought sent a chill down Lin Qiye's spine. If that were truly the case, then the value—or rather, the danger—of this altar far exceeded his expectations. A passage connecting to an ancient realm, once activated, who knows what it might attract?

"Lin Qiye".

Luo Sheng's voice came from behind. Lin Qiye turned around and saw her carrying the sleeping Lin Xi to the cave entrance, her face looking somewhat pale in the twilight.

"The children are all settled." Luo Sheng walked to his side, her gaze also fixed on the distant altar. Her voice was soft. "That thing... is very dangerous, isn't it?"

"Yes." Lin Qiye didn't hide anything. "It's older and more complete than the Bone Tower. But it won't wake up for the time being."

Luo Sheng was silent for a moment, then lowered her head to look at her sleeping daughter in her arms, her fingers gently stroking the baby's soft cheek: "Can we find a safe place? I mean... a really safe place."

Lin Qiye could not answer this question immediately.

He left the arena with his family to escape power struggles and potential threats. But the outside world seemed far more dangerous than the arena—polluted herds of beasts, eerie caves of dried corpses, ancient altars… none of these were things ordinary people could handle.

He even began to doubt whether there really was a "perfectly safe" place in the world.

"I will find it." That was his final answer, his voice calm yet firm.

Luo Sheng looked up at him, her lips twitching slightly as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just nodded and said, "Mm."

Night fell completely.

A campfire was lit in the cave, its orange glow dispelling the darkness and bringing a touch of warmth. After the children had eaten and drunk their fill, they fell into a deep sleep on animal-skin blankets. The women sat around the fire, talking in hushed tones, occasionally letting out suppressed laughter—a mixture of relief at surviving the ordeal and uncertainty about the future.

Lin Qiye sat at the cave entrance, leaning against the rock wall, and closed his eyes to regulate his breathing.

His senses remained heightened, covering an area of ​​several hundred feet around the cave. The night wind howled through the cliffs, and occasionally the chirping of unknown insects echoed from the basin; otherwise, all was deathly silent.

But in the midst of this deathly silence, he caught a faint, almost imperceptible movement.

It did not come from the direction of the altar, nor from the basin—but from the valley pass from which they came.

Something is crossing the pass and moving towards the basin.

The speed wasn't fast, but it was very steady. And there was more than one.

Lin Qiye opened his eyes, a flash of dark golden light passing through his pupils. He silently stood up, walked to the edge of the cave entrance, and cast his gaze toward the blurry valley in the night.

Perception extended like tentacles, piercing through the darkness and locking onto those moving entities.

Then, he froze.

That's... a person.

About seven or eight people, dressed in tattered leather armor and carrying crude weapons, were carefully passing through the pass and entering the basin. Their movements were very light, as if they were avoiding something or searching for something.

More importantly, Lin Qiye did not sense any contamination from them. Although their Origin Qi fluctuations were weak, they were very pure, the state that a normal human cultivator should have.

Where did these people come from?

How long have they survived in this wasteland? Did they know about the altar? Did they know the origin of those caves filled with dried corpses?

A series of questions surfaced in Lin Qiye's mind. He remained silent for a moment, then turned and walked back into the cave, gesturing for the women by the campfire to be quiet.

"Someone's coming." He lowered his voice. "Seven or eight, probably local survivors. You stay in the cave and don't make a sound. I'll go check it out."

Luo Sheng and Shuang'er exchanged a glance and nodded simultaneously. The Barbarian Princess gripped her battle axe tightly, but Lin Qiye stopped her with a single look.

"Don't make a move," Lin Qiye said, looking at her. "Unless they attack first."

After saying that, he flashed and disappeared into the night like a ghost at the cave entrance.

In the shadows at the edge of the basin, Lin Qiye stood as still as a rock, his gaze fixed on the slowly moving squad.

The seven or eight people were clearly familiar with the area. They avoided the central area where the altar was located and proceeded along the shadowy edge of the basin, their target seemingly a water source on the other side of the cliff.

By the faint starlight, Lin Qiye could make out their appearance.

The leader was a tall, middle-aged man with a grotesque scar across his face, running diagonally from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth, making his face appear somewhat distorted. He carried a heavy bone hammer and scanned his surroundings warily.

The people following him were men and women, all dressed simply, but their equipment was quite complete—bone spears, stone axes, crudely made crossbows, and even two of them had several bulging leather bags hanging from their waists, emanating a faint scent of herbs.

This is a team that survives in the wilderness, and it looks like they've been here for quite some time.

After observing them for a moment and confirming that they meant no harm, Lin Qiye slowly stepped out of the shadows.

His arrival instantly put the squad into combat readiness. Everyone raised their weapons at the same time, their movements as synchronized as those of well-trained soldiers.

"Who?!" the middle-aged man in the lead shouted sharply, holding a bone hammer in front of him, his eyes fixed on Lin Qiye.

Lin Qiye stopped and raised his hands to indicate that he was unarmed: "Just passing by, no ill intent."

His voice echoed through the empty basin, carrying a strange sense of calm that eased the tension in the squad somewhat.

The middle-aged man sized Lin Qiye up and down, his gaze lingering for a moment on Lin's worn but of fine quality robes, then sweeping over his empty hands. His brow furrowed slightly. "Passing through? This wasteland hasn't seen a 'passerby' for decades. Who are you? Where do you come from?"

Lin Qiye stood in the night, spreading his hands, and said calmly, "We escaped from the arena and are looking for a safe place to settle down."

The middle-aged man at the head of the group narrowed his eyes, the scars on his face appearing even more grotesque under the starlight. He sized Lin Qiye up and down, his gaze lingering on his robes, which, though dusty, were clearly made of superior fabric, before sweeping over the dark shadows of the cliff behind him.

"The arena?" the middle-aged man repeated, a strange undertone in his voice. "That place... isn't easy to escape from."

Behind him, a thin young man muttered under his breath, "How did they get here from the arena, which is such a long way? And they were carrying..."

Before she could finish speaking, she was stopped by a look from the middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man took two steps forward, his bone hammer hanging at his side, but the knuckles of his fingers gripping it were slightly white. He stared into Lin Qiye's eyes, as if assessing something, then slowly spoke: "This wasteland is not safe. You'd better come with us. I know a place where you can temporarily hide from those 'things'."

When he said "things," his gaze drifted intentionally or unintentionally toward the black altar in the center of the basin.

Lin Qiye nodded, a perfectly measured expression of gratitude on his face: "That's wonderful. We still have our women and children, they're in that cave over there—"

Before he could finish speaking...

Lin Qiye moved.

His movements were faster than anyone could comprehend—not in the sense of "lightning fast," but as if time itself had been cut off by a single frame. One moment he was standing three steps away, hands outstretched, expression gentle; the next, he was standing in front of the middle-aged man, his right hand outstretched, dark golden light exploding in his palm.