Clara's fingers trembled slightly before finally pressing down on the delicate button atop the box. She wasn't a fool—she had been wary of this black werewolf from the very beginning. He seemed so powerful and inscrutable that the inability to gauge his true strength unsettled her deeply.

  But when he mentioned the blood beast, her defenses visibly wavered. Not only did he reveal his identity, but he also produced a piece of beast hide suffused with the aura of a blood beast. Clara could feel the authenticity of that aura—such an ancient and dangerous bloodline power was impossible to fake.

  That forced her to start believing he truly came to discuss cooperation.

  And the exquisite silver box he pulled out last was the final straw that broke down her vigilance. She had seen valuable things before, but if these were truly blood beast eggs, then the significance was entirely different.

  It was like someone telling you they'll make you rich. At first, you'd think they were crazy, maybe a con artist. But if they then revealed a solid background, claiming to be a renowned investor with numerous success stories, you'd hesitate and even consider listening.

  Yet if in the next moment, they slammed a bank card on the table and said it held a billion dollars for you to spend, no one could remain indifferent.

  Clara didn't need to check any bank accounts—she just needed to open the box.

  Taking a deep breath, she pressed the button. The lid slid open slowly, revealing two blood beast eggs inside. Their translucent surfaces almost reflected her shocked expression. The vibrant life force within caused her blood-red pupils to contract sharply.

  She knew what she was seeing was real—authentic, living blood beast life in an intact, unhatched state.

  A surge of joy and greed flooded her mind, momentarily making her forget the danger she was in.

  But before she could turn that joy into a plan, a sharp pain suddenly exploded from her chest.

  At the moment she looked down, she saw a slender, jet-black dagger plunged into the skin near her heart. The hilt trembled lightly as a chilling cold spread from her core.

  A blood-red spear pierced her lower abdomen from under the table with brutal force, causing her to stagger and nearly fall from her seat.

  A deafening crash echoed as the table and chairs shattered into splinters flying everywhere. Her body felt torn apart as the agony spread through her limbs.

  She knew she'd been struck.

  Instinctively, she swung a palm fiercely at the black werewolf in front of her. Her judgment was clear: he was the mastermind, the greatest threat!

  The sound of tearing air exploded instantly. Selene was too slow to stop it and could only watch helplessly as Draven was blasted backward by Clara's strike, crashing heavily into the stone wall behind him.

  The wall cracked, stones tumbled down, and dust billowed.

  Selene's heart tightened—this scene was nowhere near their original plan. She had no time to question why Draven hadn't retreated immediately after the ambush or why he followed up with that blow.

  She quickly stepped back, drawing her whip. With a leap, she landed firmly between Draven and Clara to prevent any further attacks.

  At that moment, Draven struggled to stand from the rubble. His body felt shattered, blood continuously dripping from the corner of his mouth.

  He looked down at his ghostly armor. Once smooth and flowing like ink, its surface was now shattered into fragments. Only the piece over his chest still barely functioned as defense, pressed tightly against his skin.

  He cursed quietly in his mind,"Without this armor, I might really be dead this time."

  Meanwhile, Clara barely managed to rise through her own pain.

  Her face was pale as a corpse, blood pouring from her chest, yet she was still alive.

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  More shockingly, she ripped the blood-red spear from her abdomen, eyes burning with a hellish malice, locking onto Draven.

  "You're not even at the lord level!" Her voice was low and hoarse, like a curse.

  Clara stared hatefully, almost madly, at Draven standing behind Selene.

  No more doubts. The lord-level strength was fake, the backing power was fake, and of course, the Blood Beast eggs were fake too.

  From the very beginning, she had been completely fooled. As a respectable mid-level lord, she had been deceived so thoroughly that she was practically stripped bare.

  She even willingly grabbed that black wolf man's hand and led it beneath her skirt. How could anyone not be furious about that?

  Clara's eyes reddened with anger, her chest burning with pain, fury boiling up to her temples. Yet she also felt a lingering fear— if it weren't for Lady Zora's life-protecting talisman, that knife and spear would have killed her outright.

  That talisman had risen like a phantom shield around her heart, negating most of the deadly blow.

  A powerful energy was flowing through the wound into her heart— a chilling yet vibrant force, as if it could make blood boil.

  Her body was rapidly healing in an abnormal way, and her mood was growing increasingly manic.

  A cold, cruel smirk curled at the corners of her mouth; her already striking face now twisted into utter ruthlessness.

  "Just the two of you? A low-tier lord and a pack leader? You actually think you can kill me?"

  She murmured lowly, a derisive madness in her voice.

  In the next instant, her body blurred into a shadowy afterimage and lunged at Selene like lightning!

  Her target was clear: since the wolfman was just a decoy, she intended to take out the real, biggest threat first!

  Selene reacted swiftly. She sprang backward and simultaneously vanished into a shadow, disappearing from the spot.

  The two figures tore through the air, breaking the sound barrier. Before anyone could fully comprehend what was happening, they had already clashed tens of meters away.

  Draven stood still, a bitter expression on his face. He couldn't intervene— this was not a fight he could take part in, not even observe clearly.

  All he could do was pray Selene could hold on. If she lost, they would both die here.

  But Selene herself wasn't very confident.

  Logically, Clara should have been gravely wounded or near death after being attacked twice at once. But now, she showed no signs of injury. Instead, like she'd taken some stimulant, she moved like the wind and struck with the strength of a raging beast.

  In their earlier battle, Selene had the upper hand against Freya. But now, she was steadily pushed back by Clara.

  The fight flashed upward from the ground to the sky. Under Selene's deliberate guidance, they flew higher and higher, dragging the battlefield from outside the stone house all the way up into the air.

  After a missed strike, Selene caught her breath and steadied herself mid-air.

  Opposite her, Clara hovered with a cold sneer of mockery.

  "Is that all you've got?" she said coldly."Where's your real demon lord? Why not show up? Doesn't he care if you live or die?"

  Selene said nothing in response. She certainly wouldn't tell Clara that her demon lord was almost knocked out by her palm strike, nor that the black wolfman was basically crippled and couldn't even flee.

  Now was not the time for words.

  She simply waved her hand backward, and three black shadows emerged behind her like ghosts, transforming into three phantasmal clones to surround Clara.

  Clara frowned, staring at the suddenly appearing four Selene figures with disdain.

  "Phantasmal clones again? Can you succubi try something new for once? After all these years, it's still the same old trick."

  With a flick of her right hand, a blood-red curved sword, snake-like, appeared in her grip.

  At the lord level, even small rank differences could create vast power gaps. Overwhelming numbers wasn't a universal strategy, especially among experts— phantasmal clones mostly served to confuse the opponent; dealing damage was another matter.

  She fixed Selene's face with a cold sneer.

  "If you were the succubus leader of the South back then, maybe I'd be a little wary. But you? Not even close."

  Thinking of Freya stirred her emotions again. That loyal, obedient succubus had been sacrificed in this game!

  Freya was her best tool, her servant, her weapon to sharpen others. Now she was gone— all because of those bastards!

  Selene showed none of that emotion. She and her three clones moved almost simultaneously. Three black whips, like venomous snakes, twisted into a net trying to trap Clara, while her main body ducked and charged downward.

  She intended to use the clones to distract Clara, and briefly fuse with Draven.

  Clara was no fool— she quickly sensed Selene's plan. Selene's moves were too blatant, not even trying to hide it.

  Clara swung her slender sword faster and harder, several attacks warping the air.

  "Trying to run? Dream on!"

  She roared, slashing horizontally and slicing one clone into black mist. But she got distracted.

  At that moment, Draven steadied himself on the ground. He bent to pick up the blood-red spear when a black shadow fell from the sky!

  "Draven!" Selene shouted fiercely from midair.

  Draven immediately understood her meaning. He didn't dodge or move, even holding his breath.

  Then Selene descended like a streak of black lightning, erupting dark flames in midair, the ghostly image of a demon wolf appearing behind her.

  Clara, just after shattering the last clone, was sneering— until she suddenly heard a low roar behind her.

  A huge demon wolf composed of black flames tore through the sky, charging up from below!

  Clara gritted her teeth and barely rolled aside to avoid the claw, but the swipe still grazed her armor, sending a violent tremor through her body.

  She hovered in the air, her breath slightly disturbed but without much panic, instead wearing a mocking grin.

  "So he really is your demon lord, huh?"

  She glanced at Selene and said softly,"You really don't have standards."