"Lady Selene..."

  Gregor's voice was dry, and the smile on his face looked worse than if he were crying. He stood in the middle of the great hall like a thief caught red-handed, nervously rubbing his hands together. He looked exactly like a student who'd been called to the principal's office for punishment.

  Selene didn't speak immediately. She just stood there, her gaze icy cold, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly as if suppressing her anger.

  Finally, she spoke, but her smile was completely devoid of warmth.

  "You've really prepared quite a surprising situation for me."

  Gregor lowered his head, cursing silently. He knew he was nothing more than a fragment of Draven's consciousness, while the true master was hiding safely inside the Black Flag Tavern.

  But now, this body had to take the fall for the original—after all, he was sent here to handle this mess.

  Still, he had to say something. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to speak:

  "Lady Selene, since things have come to this, what do you plan to do?"

  "How to deal with it?" Selene sneered coldly, then turned her gaze to an empty corner of the hall. Her voice suddenly rose a few degrees in intensity:

  "Draven, I know you're listening. Tell me—how should I deal with this?"

  There was a grinding fury in her tone, as if she was about to storm out of the palace and march straight to the Black Flag Tavern for revenge.

  This is bad. She's about to explode.

  Gregor hurriedly issued a mental command, letting the snakekin persona speak for him:

  "Lady Selene, the elves will arrive in a few days. Then we can take advantage of the situation to resolve the crisis. We only need to hold on a little longer and maintain our defenses, then..."

  Selene cut him off immediately, her eyes full of ridicule.

  "You're hoping those elves will help us clean up after this? Or that after they take away their princess, they'll conveniently clear out our enemies too? Don't be naive!"

  She suddenly slammed her hand down on the throne's armrest, her voice echoing through the hall:

  "You know perfectly well—they only protect the princess. They won't risk a thing for our lives!"

  "What happens to Selene City after they take Sylvia away? What about you and me?!"

  Gregor opened his mouth but couldn't say a word. He knew all too well that this was the most realistic possibility.

  Even if Draven could get Sylvia to call for the guards' help, those people ultimately obeyed their king. Sylvia's importance far outweighed the fate of Selene City.

  Once they take her away, the whole situation will collapse instantly. The elven kingdom will leave cleanly and decisively, and we'll be left to clean up the mess ourselves.

  Selene stared daggers at him, as if trying to rip the skin off the fragment's face.

  Draven sat in the Black Flag Tavern, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. Even thousands of miles away, he felt the weight of that gaze.

  Selene spoke again:

  "Draven, you must come here in person."

  She paused, lowering her voice but sounding even more resolute:

  "Do you remember that Dark Magic Wolf? You and I working together, maybe we still have a chance inside Selene City."

  She spoke slowly, each word driving into Draven's heart like a nail. He was silent.

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  Truth be told, he didn't want to go. That dark wolf was like a moving black mountain; its presence chilled him to the bone. And facing two lord-level monsters—Selene herself only said maybe they had a chance, which clearly showed little confidence.

  He had already quietly prepared an escape plan.

  When the elves arrived, he and Sylvia would run straight away, heading to the elven kingdom to lay low. Though it sounded like desertion, survival was the priority.

  Now that he was Sylvia's fiancé-to-be, the elven king should show some face and not really drive him away, right?

  As long as they stayed alive, everything else could be settled later.

  He even began to fantasize that once in the elven kingdom, maybe he could use this connection to secure a post and rise through the ranks.

  But before his daydreams could take flight, Selene shattered them.

  She fixed Gregor with an ice-cold gaze and said:

  "Of course, you don't have to come."

  "I know you have the Nightmare Steed. If I don't see your true body appear in Selene City within a day, I can't guarantee I won't leak the information about where the elven princess is being hidden."

  With that, she turned and left without hesitation. The great hall was left silent, with only Gregor frozen in place, the threat still ringing in his mind.

  Far away in the Black Flag Tavern, Draven slammed his fist on the table in fury:

  "Damn woman! How dare she threaten me!"

  But he also knew that Selene's move was ruthless and precise.

  Not honorable, but extremely effective.

  She didn't not care about the elven princess's life—she cared more about her own people and city. The safety of the beastkin and the survival of Selene City mattered far more to her than Sylvia alone.

  Draven understood this perfectly. If he were in her place, he would make the same decision.

  The threatening words still echoed in Draven's mind, and a deep sense of helplessness welled up in his heart.

  He knew that going to Selene City was necessary—he could not ignore her warning.

  Selene was no ordinary opponent; she was the one who had led her tribe to greatness. No one could take her words lightly.

  To underestimate her threats and end up being outplayed by her would be the real joke.

  But before setting out, Draven still had some matters to attend to—he could not depart hastily.

  He stood still for a moment, face filled with solemnity and helplessness.

  This unusual silence immediately caught Sylvia's attention. She looked up, eyes full of confusion.

  "Draven, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

  Draven slowly turned his head, gazing at her with deep affection and determination, as if seeking support and strength from her eyes.

  "Sylvia, your whereabouts may have been leaked. There are two lord-level beings in Selene City. I have to go there immediately and do my best to hold them off."

  "Draven, you can't go!" Sylvia crawled into his arms, clutching his waist tightly, her eyes brimming with tears and fear.

  Though Draven's expression was solemn, inside he secretly rejoiced.

  He thought to himself that aside from his skills in bed, he had almost no other way to leave a lasting impression on Sylvia—and now this chance had come so soon.

  What could be more unforgettable than a lover risking their life for you?

  He lowered his head to look into Sylvia's moist, tear-filled eyes, his heart skipping a beat, unable to help but smile.

  Brave enough to ride dragons and tigers; timid enough to cling to a mother hen.

  If Selene dared to fight desperately, what was there for him to fear?

  Once this succeeded, not only would the crisis be resolved, but surely Selene would reward him, right?

  Though he knew this was mostly a choice forced by circumstances, it did not stop him from thinking about how to maximize his own benefit.

  He held Sylvia close and began speaking grandly, turning the helpless mission into an act of love and sacrifice.

  He even elevated this mission to one of preserving the peace of the elven kingdom, the demi-humans, and even the whole world.

  A girl in love was always sensitive and easily moved.

  Sylvia sobbed as she begged him not to take such risks, her voice full of fear and reluctance.

  Draven pretended to be righteous, gently pushing her away, his gaze deep and resolute.

  "Sylvia, I want you to know—I love you more than anything!" he said, then turned and left, leaving behind his dashing figure and a tear-streaked elven girl.

  Of course, he would not really leave immediately; there were many things to arrange before departure.

  He found Viola and the others and summoned all the key members together.

  Sylvia leaned against Viola, crying uncontrollably.

  Draven's heart tightened with guilt—he scolded himself for not being a better person.

  But all of this was for the future.

  Clearing his throat, he began to lay out the upcoming plans.

  First, he called the Ghost-faced Owl and ordered it to stay in the village to protect Viola and the others.

  But its role was not only protection—it was a symbol.

  As his contracted beast, as long as Draven lived, it lived; if Draven died, it would die with him.

  "You must pay close attention to the Ghost-faced Owl these days," he said sternly."If it dies, immediately find a place to hide. Go north, the farther the better. I believe when the people of the elven kingdom arrive, they will find a way to locate you."

  His voice was heavy, carrying a suppressed sorrow.

  He had considered all possible worst outcomes—if he were to die, he still wanted to leave everyone a way out.

  The hall fell deathly silent. Even the usually playful Liliana had red eyes, reluctant to part.

  Draven waved his hand, signaling for no more words, and continued arranging various details.

  Viola listened bravely, her heart growing heavier.

  Once everything was arranged, Draven hugged each of them one by one.

  He deliberately saved Sylvia for last.

  Sylvia understood she could not stop this farewell. Slowly, she removed her mask, tears welling in her eyes.

  With tears in her eyes, she gently kissed him.