Faced with the Withered Wood Clan Leader's earnest counsel, Shiheng merely nodded slightly.
His expression was calm and gentle, without the slightest intention of arguing. Nor did he explain the battles with Seven-Star Fiends he had endured while crossing the wilderness, or the fiend bandits he had slain along the way.
After this journey through Hell's borderlands, he already understood how humans here lived.
The old man before him had held his tribe together for a million years, living amid blades and blood every day, under constant threat of annihilation.
Such extreme caution, advancing carefully at every step as though treading on thin ice, was not cowardice. It was a survival instinct etched into the bones and blood of Hell's surviving humans, a way of life forged through a million years of blood, tears, life, and death.
Shiheng felt only understanding and respect.
"We will remember your teachings, elder."
His tone was sincere and open, his manner respectful as he solemnly accepted every word of the old man's advice.
Beside him, Yuan Xiao and Yuan Su also understood the hardships this human chief had faced.
Both bowed slightly and nodded, their eyes filled with heartfelt respect as they looked at the old man.
Standing alone for a million years to protect humanity's last few embers-such solitary courage and resilience deserved the humble attention of every fellow human.
The Withered Wood Clan Leader looked at these young cultivators who had come from afar, a trace of complicated emotion surfacing in his clouded eyes.
These human juniors who had crossed between worlds did not possess particularly profound cultivation. Their experience fell far short of Hell's native cultivators, and when it came to surviving alone, they could not even match the tribespeople who fought year-round.
Yet their eyes were clear and pure, their