The captain of the Elven Kingdom's royal guards, Rand, wore a dark and furious expression. As one of the highest-ranking warriors under the king, he was the first to notice the disturbance in the skies.

  Once he locked onto the scene, he saw the princess being tightly held by a demi-human male—an image that filled him with rage and humiliation.

  If not for the explicit command from His Majesty the King, Rand would've already charged forward to hack off the black werewolf's arm wrapped around the princess's waist.

  Draven's emotions were a tangled mess as he guided the Nightmare Horse to slowly descend. Standing beside him, Viola gave a subtle shake of her head, signaling him to stay calm.

  Taking a deep breath, Draven helped the pale-faced but noticeably composed Sylvia down from the horse. After all, this day was always going to come.

  "Uncle Rand," Sylvia bent her knees slightly and gave the traditional Elven salute.

  Rand remained stern-faced, stepping aside without expression."Your Highness, please mount. It's time to return."

  Sylvia forced a faint, bitter smile. She turned to gaze at the werewolf chief, eyes full of reluctance. Her voice trembled slightly,"Uncle Rand, did you bring the item?"

  Without a word, Rand removed a bracelet from his wrist and handed it to her. Sylvia accepted it, her tone soft, almost pleading:

  "Uncle Rand, could you and the guards wait for a moment… just a moment?"

  Rand's rugged features tightened slightly, but he did not refuse. He gave a respectful nod and took a few steps back.

  Back inside the stone house, Sylvia managed a smile and handed the bracelet to Draven.

  "It contains essential supplies for your territory." She dared not meet Draven's eyes—afraid that one glance would shatter her fragile control over her tears.

  Before leaving, she wanted to leave him with the best memory possible.

  With a gentle hand, Sylvia removed her mask and carefully handed it to Liliana, who was already tearing up.

  "Liliana, this is for you. Didn't you always want it?"

  Ever since the arrival of the pegasus guards, Liliana had become unusually quiet. Now, she could no longer hold back and threw herself into Sylvia's embrace. Sylvia hugged her tightly, trying not to cry, though her eyes were already shimmering.

  Viola wiped away her own tears and gently pulled Liliana away from Sylvia's arms. The little girl sobbed heartbreakingly, while Viola herself could barely bear the pain.

  Sylvia took out a short sword from the bracelet—a gift she had exchanged from Selene the day before, originally meant for Martha.

  She stood, walked over to the bed, and retrieved a piece of beast hide. From the bracelet, she selected a few personal items and packed them neatly into a small bundle. Then she unlinked the bracelet's magical bond and handed it to Viola.

  Viola glanced at Draven uncertainly. Draven nodded firmly, and only then did Viola take the precious spatial bracelet.

  "Viola, there's not much inside the bracelet, I hope you won't mind. I've stored everything I learned about formations and magical insights in there. Draven… I'll be counting on you to take care of everyone now…"

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  Sylvia finally walked up to the werewolf chief, raising her delicate face as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  "Draven, my love… kiss me."

  As the words fell, her lips trembled as they met his.

  …

  In the end, Sylvia left with the pegasus guards from the Elven Kingdom. Draven stood on the city wall for a long time, unable to find peace in his heart.

  He had always known this day would come. Sylvia had been fully prepared—she had even brought a gift for Martha, whom she barely knew.

  What Draven could offer in return was merely a few thin pieces of beast hide, containing the cruel spells from Gareth's forbidden arts—techniques specifically targeting elves.

  He wasn't sure whether those spells would actually work on the Elves…

  But at the very least, he hoped they could help her—just a little.

  Viola and the others remained quietly at Draven's side. Liliana nestled against his chest, sobbing in broken intervals. Her soft cries filled the entire room.

  Draven felt an emptiness in his chest, as if all his strength had drained away. The firm resilience he once had was now gone.

  Outside, the figures of the Pegasus riders gradually faded, disappearing into the horizon. Viola gently took Draven's hand and followed him back into the stone house.

  Inside, Draven collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted, as though all his energy had been sucked away. Liliana eventually cried herself out and curled up silently in his arms.

  Draven closed his eyes, his breathing gradually steadying, as if he were searching for a shred of comfort. The sorrow and pain surged like a flood, drowning out all his thoughts.

  At that same moment, Sylvia was still in the air. Her hands pressed lightly over her abdomen, her face pale, but a faint blush bloomed on her cheeks.

  "Draven… I can feel life stirring within me…"

  Sylvia's departure plunged Draven into a deep slumber that lasted three days and three nights. Viola, feeling deeply for him, had stationed handmaidens at the door to keep all visitors away, ensuring his rest was undisturbed.

  Inside the room, only the soft sound of breathing and the distant whisper of wind could be heard.

  Finally, Draven slowly sat up in bed, staring blankly at Viola's worried face.

  "I'm… hungry," he murmured.

  Viola immediately called the maidservants and brought over the meat broth that had long been prepared. She fed him spoon by spoon, her own hands trembling slightly. Seeing him able to eat again, she finally let out a sigh of relief.

  Over the past three days, Draven had barely left the bed. His deep sleep had allowed his body to recover somewhat. Though Sylvia was gone, she would return one day. With that belief, Viola reminded herself again and again: she had to stay strong.

  With newfound strength, Draven pulled Viola into his embrace, feeling her warmth. He knew that come tomorrow, he'd have to face reality again—he still had people to lead.

  Earlier, the Eyebrow-Patterned King Serpent had spontaneously regurgitated all the Black Wolf slaves.

  Three days ago, at Viola's request, Titus had begun organizing and relocating the slaves, finding temporary shelter for them in the village. The first thing Draven did after waking up was to handle the redistribution of these slaves.

  This group of Black Wolf slaves represented the entirety of the lord's stock—men, women, young and old. On the plaza, Draven gathered them and ordered all minors and those with potential to awaken their bloodline to step forward.

  But fewer than a hundred hesitant figures emerged.

  Draven gave a gentle wave, signaling them to step aside. Then he divided the remaining slaves into two groups by gender. The females were placed under Viola's care to be resettled. She would oversee over three hundred adult women and fewer than a hundred minors.

  The remaining thousand or so male Black Wolf slaves were handed over to Titus and the troll Ade for selection.

  They picked out those with sound limbs and suitable ages to stand aside, while the elderly, infirm, and disabled were separated into another group.

  After careful screening, only about 700 were deemed fit for training as hunters. Nearly 300, however, were in no condition to perform hard labor.

  These old and frail slaves stood together, their faces numb and filled with fear. Draven sighed deeply. Others might cast them out of the village, leaving them to die. Some might even slaughter them and dry their meat for storage.

  But Draven couldn't be that cruel.

  He entrusted these weaker slaves to Viola. At the very least, they could forage for wild mushrooms or do lighter tasks.

  And so, over 1,300 slaves were reorganized. Around 600 were settled in Village No. 2, while the other 700 strong ones were sent to receive formal training—Bran was already informed via Ghost-faced Owl.

  After the rainy season, the Black Flag Territory was bound to enter a period of rapid growth.

  Draven looked up at the sky, his gaze firm and resolute.

  He knew that one day, he would rise high enough in status to bring Sylvia home—openly, proudly.