Night had fallen completely by the time Draven returned to Village No. 2. The wind had almost died down, and only flickering firelight danced between the stone houses.

  When he pushed the door open, the warm glow of a beast-oil lamp still lit the familiar room.

  Viola was sitting on a wooden stool in the corner, carefully stitching a piece of beast hide. Her hands moved with quiet concentration, like a little fox mending its den in the stillness of the night.

  On the other side, Martha was hunched over the table, a beast-hide map fully unfurled before her, covering most of the surface. The map was marked with routes, symbols, and labeled points. A few highlands had been highlighted with red clay at the corners.

  A miniature magical tower sat on the table, no larger than a palm, glowing with a soft blue light. It was a gift from Sylvia—one of her messenger constructs could use it to pinpoint the exact location of the Black Flag Territory, even from a great distance. Draven didn't understand the magic behind it, but he appreciated its convenience. And to him, useful magic was good magic.

  Liliana was still playing her"tree act," sitting cross-legged in a corner like a small horned tree stump. Her arms were held aloft in imitation of branches, though her expression betrayed the effort it took not to laugh.

  Even more curious, some of Sylvia's summoned sprites had somehow been drawn into the house by Liliana and were now slowly circling her. Their semi-transparent bodies floated like glowing petals in the air, with a few fluttering close to her cheeks, clearly intrigued by her disguise.

  As soon as they heard footsteps, everyone looked up at once.

  Viola gave a gentle smile and set down her needle and thread. She stood to greet him, her fox tail giving a soft, affectionate sway, as if trying to charm him.

  Draven walked over, took her hand, and sat down at the table with her.

  Martha looked smug as she turned the beast-hide map toward him, her voice crisp and proud."We've finished surveying the entire route to Village No. 3. The scouts marked the terrain, inclines, and swampy areas."

  Draven leaned in, fingers gliding across the red lines on the map. The route was mostly straight, cleverly avoiding lowlands and forested obstacles. The plan was solid.

  He nodded."Well done. You all deserve a good reward tonight."

  Then he looked toward the corner where Liliana sat.

  Liliana finally abandoned her plant performance, flopping down onto the cushion and yawning wide. Without hesitation, she nestled into Draven's arms with the confidence of someone who believed they belonged there.

  "How's it going? Making progress?"

  Liliana wrinkled her nose."Not sure. Something feels off. Turning into a treant isn't as easy as I thought."

  "Take your time." Draven kissed her forehead and said no more.

  Since Sylvia left, he'd stopped overthinking what was right or wrong, what he deserved or didn't. He only had two hands and so much time. Everyone was here, together, and life still had to go on. He had no intention of making it overly complicated.

  Still, despite the sentiment, the stone house soon echoed with… certain indescribable sounds.

  Liliana gasped like a fish out of water. When she finally realized how serious things were getting, she bit Draven's shoulder hard, her eyes blazing with fierce determination.

  "Again!" she demanded, glaring at him, full of fighting spirit.

  And so, the night turned lively once more.

  …

  Morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the window. When Draven woke, Liliana's tousled hair lay spread across his chest.

  She was curled up in his arms, fast asleep, her breathing soft, her cheeks faintly flushed. Draven glanced down at her.

  The blood elf's secret magic had certainly resonated well with her—probably because she already carried elven blood herself. He gently slid out from under her, pulled on his clothes, and tucked the beast-hide blanket around her.

  The scent of cooking was already wafting from the kitchen. Viola, apron tied, was busy making a stew of wild vegetables and meat. When Draven was suddenly hugged from behind, he merely chuckled and said nothing.

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  Martha was sitting nearby, carefully polishing her bloodline dagger—a gift from Sylvia, and her first weapon truly attuned to her blood. The more she wiped, the brighter her mood became; her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

  "A breakthrough's probably close," she muttered to herself, then looked up at Draven with a teasing, proud grin."That feeling yesterday... I was floating the whole day."

  When had the deerkin ever gone weak in the knees? Now, at last, she'd truly experienced it.

  At breakfast, Liliana had fully recovered, glaring at Draven from across the table with puffed-up cheeks and a defiant look that said, I haven't lost yet.

  Draven gave a helpless smile and rubbed his nose."Always messing around with no skill to back it up… that's so you."

  "Today you're going with Martha and Acorn Oak to help with the road. They'll need you."

  Roadwork? Way less fun than fighting. Liliana looked completely disinterested. She hadn't won yet!

  Draven leaned in and whispered something in her ear.

  Her eyes went wide. Then she nodded.

  And with that, the road construction project in the Black Flag Territory could finally begin in earnest. Even though hardened roads couldn't be built during the rainy season, the work could still start.

  However, preliminary work like clearing large trees along the planned route and leveling the terrain could be started in advance.

  Acorn Oak and his treant kin possessed the ability to relocate trees, though the speed was far inferior to the brute-force method of simply chopping them down.

  Even so, Draven insisted on using the treants to move the large trees along the route. To him, preserving the natural vitality of this land was far more important than saving a few days of labor.

  As for the smaller bushes and shrubs, those were handed over to the slave girls from the Black Flag Territory. Letting them handle some physical labor could also help ease Viola's burden.

  After all, she was juggling logistics while also managing those slave girls—no small task.

  The overall road-building project was led by Martha, who handled on-site command. Viola was in charge of allocating manpower, and the slave girls were under her direct supervision.

  Liliana and Acorn Oak were the main force responsible for tree relocation and route clearing.

  As for scouting and path-mapping, that remained the job of the Dorian brothers and their team of scouts. With their sharp eyes and rich experience, they were adept at finding optimal paths through complex terrain.

  Draven had given them full freedom to select their squad members—and to his surprise, they picked only a bunch of skinny kobolds.

  These nimble and agile creatures were perfectly suited to slipping through dense forests. Though their abilities were doubted at first, the brothers clearly saw their value.

  At the stone house's dining table, Liliana held a bowl in her arms, sipping hot meat soup while grinning like a fool. A few meat strands clung to the corner of her lips, and she looked rather cheerful—

  —even though she had been thoroughly ravished the night before and now had to do hard labor during the day.

  Draven looked at her goofy appearance, feeling a little guilty. He hastily arranged the roadwork duties and then found an excuse to slip out of the village.

  Although he had already discussed the plan with Bran the previous night, Draven still felt uneasy. He decided to check on Village One personally.

  Riding his Nightmare Horse through the forest, it was just as he expected—

  From afar, he spotted Bran already gathering people.

  Bran was brimming with energy, shouting at the top of his lungs to rally the crowd, preparing to head toward the Rhinoceros Man territory.

  But that constant yawning made Draven frown—he could hardly resist kicking the guy in the face!

  He immediately dismounted, blocked Bran's path, and dragged the steel-toothed man into the main house.

  Inside, the pair of werewolf sisters saw the chief enter and instantly backed into a corner in fear. They didn't dare speak, their eyes wide and more nervous than they had been a few days ago.

  Draven waved his hand, signaling them to leave. Then he had several key members of the village summoned: Serpent Ancestor, Alaric, Ayla, and the recently groomed frost werewolf Kevin.

  Once everyone was present, Draven sat down, locked eyes on Bran, and said sternly,"Tell me your plan."

  "What plan?" Bran's jaw dropped."What else could it be? Obviously we've gotta hunt while we still can! With this damned rainy season, the weather changes in a blink. Who knows when it'll pour again? I figured we should stock up on game these next few days!"

  He seemed a bit irritated, feeling like the chief had interrupted something important.

  Draven raised his hand and slapped him hard on the back of the head, not holding back at all.

  "Starting today, you're not allowed to hunt outside the village anymore."

  "That job goes to someone else from now on."

  Bran clutched his head, completely confused.

  "You're the village chief now, not a hunter. If you keep charging up the mountain with a bow, do you think your subordinates will still take you seriously?"

  The moment Draven said that, the room fell silent. Bran opened and closed his mouth like he wanted to argue, but after seeing the chief's fierce, almost predatory glare, he chickened out.

  Lowering his head and shrinking his neck, he muttered,"Fine, I won't go. But I'm still the village chief… you didn't have to hit me…"

  Draven ignored the grumbling and immediately issued new instructions.

  He told Bran to select twenty captains from the first batch of around one hundred black werewolf slaves.

  Each captain would lead forty men, forming a standard hunting squad—twenty teams in total.

  "From today onward, your job is to oversee the organization and deployment of these hunting teams."

  Then he turned to Alaric."Alaric, you'll take five squads into the Rhinoceros Man territory. According to the agreement we made with Chief Sethric, begin the hunting operation."

  At this, Draven's tone hardened, his gaze becoming especially sharp."Remember, you may only hunt regular beasts. You are absolutely forbidden from using Demon Lure Powder to attract magical creatures. Is that clear?"

  Alaric nodded obediently, though a trace of disappointment flickered in his eyes.

  The Serpent Ancestor had privately taught him a forbidden technique—absorbing the souls of magical beasts to strengthen his foxfire. That power had become something he deeply craved.

  But Draven knew nothing of this.

  When he saw Alaric's shifty expression, he assumed the boy was just trying to shirk responsibility like Bran. So he gave him a slap as well.

  "Don't pull any tricks on me. If something goes wrong, can you take responsibility?"

  "Remember—hunting is just the surface excuse." Draven swept his gaze across everyone, emphasizing each word.

  "My real target is the entire Rhinoceros Man tribe."