In the rear garden of the lord's manor, the air was filled with the fragrance of flowers and greenery. Sylvia and Selene sat side by side, chatting and laughing as if they were old friends.
Draven stood not far away, head lowered, leaning against a wall with boredom written all over his face.
He had expected to be part of the conversation, yet reality had cast him as an irrelevant bystander—forced to stand there quietly while the two women spoke with ease and familiarity.
After all, wasn't this their first time meeting? How could they be getting along so well? he grumbled inwardly.
Sylvia had even taken off her mask, revealing her unmistakable elven features—long ears, delicate facial structure, and that innate sense of nobility and grace.
Draven couldn't resist stealing a glance, only to be met with Selene's razor-sharp gaze, locking onto him like a blade—more warning than glance.
A hint of frustration welled up in Draven's chest. He knew all too well that, in this setting, he was merely a background character, someone meant to stand aside and watch while others did the talking.
Sylvia let out a soft laugh, her eyes twinkling with playful amusement.
"He seems kind of scared of you," she remarked.
Selene looked at the elven princess before her, admiring her elegance and beauty. Smiling, she replied,"Him? Honestly, he's not as well-behaved as he looks. Let me tell you"
Draven's gaze drifted beyond the garden, to where Valeria stood alone, just like him. She wore a pair of loose shorts, looking lazy and carefree, with an air of casual indifference.
Draven pretended not to recognize her and adjusted the edge of his shirt. He knew Valeria had ties to Rurik, and it was best not to get involved—no need to stir up trouble.
Valeria, with a seductive glint in her eye, cast him a teasing glance, full of flirtation and suggestion. Draven acted as if he hadn't seen it.
What Draven didn't know was that his situation with Valeria was no longer a secret.
Sylvia shyly glanced toward the gate. She knew what kind of women Draven liked—there was no hiding it from her. What surprised her, though, was that Selene also seemed to know.
In truth, Draven's affairs with his four women had long been secretly passed on to Selene by Linda. Selene refused to admit it aloud, but deep down, she wasn't entirely unaffected.
Otherwise, she wouldn't be discussing it with Sylvia in the first place. What she didn't expect was Sylvia's calm, almost indifferent reaction.
Selene looked at Sylvia."Aren't you the least bit angry?"
Oddly enough, Sylvia felt that Selene seemed more upset than she was.
Selene's expression darkened. What was it about Draven that made them all care so much? How could he even capture the heart of an elven princess?
Her chest heaved, overcome by a tangle of emotions she didn't fully understand—jealousy, indignation, and a strange sense of helplessness.
Outside the garden, Draven remained standing for a long time. At last, Sylvia reemerged, having put her mask back on—resuming her appearance as a cat-eared girl. A strange expression lingered on her face.
"All done talking?" she asked softly.
"Mhm. Let's go," Sylvia replied, reaching out to take Draven's hand. The two of them left the lord's manor together.
On the way, Draven couldn't help but ask what Sylvia thought of Selene. Sylvia generously praised her, saying that Selene truly lived up to her role as a leader of her people—remarkable and exceptional.
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Draven listened, a flicker of doubt passing through his eyes. He sensed they had spoken of far more than what she was letting on—there had to be more left unsaid.
Shortly after their departure, a squad of elite succubus soldiers marched out from the city gate in haste. Under Selene's orders, they were to pursue Torvald of the Tauren clan and demand an explanation for his actions.
Draven harbored resentment toward Torvald but had no intention of dealing with him personally.
Come on—he was the future Demon Lord. Why should he lift a finger himself?
With just a word from Sylvia, wouldn't Selene handle everything for him?
The future Demon Lord, who hadn't even stepped into the back garden, was feeling rather pleased with himself.
Draven had just returned to the stone house when he saw Rurik already waiting at the entrance. His expression was calm, as if nothing particularly important had happened.
Draven greeted him and invited him to sit down, casually asking about the latest developments in the city. Rurik handed him a report, which Draven flipped through without much interest. The content was quite ordinary.
Freya had been executed, the succubi in the south had surrendered, and the city under Selene's control was as stable as a rock, with no signs of unrest.
Draven handed over some wine he had brought to Rurik ahead of time and reminded him to pay close attention to the movements of the Tauren tribe.
After all, Torvald was the son of the Tauren chieftain. The Tauren wouldn't let this go easily. What Draven didn't know, however, was that the night before, Torvald had received news that the werewolf leader had already entered Selene City.
At that moment, Torvald's heart sank. He immediately guessed that Jacob and the others had most likely failed. He fled in the middle of the night. Where exactly he went, no one knew, and the incident gradually faded away.
Draven would only learn about Torvald's escape and what happened afterward much later. For now, he simply gave Rurik the necessary instructions and said what needed to be said. Without lingering, he left with Sylvia and returned to the Lord's Manor.
There, they found Lydia and requested the release of all the Black Wolf Tribe slaves. Draven successfully took custody of more than 1,300 of them.
The slaves standing before him were a mixed group—some old and frail, some mostly female, with a rather unbalanced ratio. But the large number was what truly mattered.
With over 200 already in his own territory, the total number of Black Wolf Tribe members now reached nearly 1,500. Their strength had significantly grown, giving the Black Flag Territory far greater room for future development.
Draven politely declined Lydia's offer to send guards to escort them. He knew that with the Eyebrow-Patterned King Serpent helping him, even a thousand more slaves could be taken without issue.
After its recent advancement, the Eyebrow-Patterned King Serpent had a much larger stomach and could now communicate more fluently with Draven. It had become his most reliable tool.
If not for the fact that Village No. 1's defenses were still lacking, Draven would never have let the Eyebrow-Patterned King Serpent leave his side.
Now, one hand holding Sylvia and the other the reins of the Nightmare Horse, Draven proudly strode down the main road of Selene City, leading a massive group of slaves.
Along the way, he clearly felt the gazes of the passersby—some filled with envy, others with awe—which secretly pleased him. He was the future Demon Lord, after all. This kind of spectacle should belong to him.
Yet behind the crack of a stone house door, Torvald hid in the shadows, eyes locked fiercely onto the back of the werewolf leader. Those eyes burned with hatred and rage.
"It's him… He ruined everything!" Torvald gritted his teeth, his voice low but dripping with venom.
He didn't dare reveal himself. Fleeing into the wilderness wasn't his plan. Instead, he had chosen a far more cunning tactic—hiding in Selene City itself.
The Lord's Manor would surely launch a full-scale manhunt. He wasn't confident in escaping head-on. Hiding in plain sight within the city and waiting for the search to die down was the smarter move.
The Tauren Tribe was one of the four great clans. Finding a place to hide on their own turf wasn't difficult. Torvald already had his next move planned. Once he slipped out of Selene City, he would head straight south to seek out the "Divine Envoy" Freya had mentioned before her death.
He would bide his time, build his strength, and swear that not only would the werewolf leader pay, but Selene herself would not escape his vengeance.
Torvald's eyes grew more vicious, and the hatred inside him burned like wildfire, ready to consume everything in its path.
Meanwhile, Draven had already crossed through the city gates. Once they were far enough away, he employed his usual method—having the slaves blindfolded to avoid exposing secrets.
Though reluctant, the Eyebrow-Patterned King Serpent obediently swallowed the entire group of slaves, safely hiding them in its belly.
The massive serpent then coiled itself tightly on top of the Nightmare Horse's head.
Draven pulled Sylvia up onto the saddle, ready to begin the journey home.
But as dusk fell and they passed over Village No. 2, Sylvia looked down through the clouds and suddenly saw that the training ground was filled with silver-white pegasi.
In that instant, her smile froze. Her cheeks, once rosy, turned pale.
"Farewell… it has finally come…" she murmured softly, her eyes full of complex emotion.

