In the underground chamber, Selene slowly opened her eyes. Her narrow, phoenix-like eyes carried a trace of confusion, as if she had just awakened from a deep sleep, her gaze not yet fully focused.

  The dim yellow light in the dark cellar cast mottled shadows on the walls, and the air was thick with dampness and the smell of age.

  The confusion quickly faded as Selene's consciousness gradually cleared, and she began to adjust to her surroundings. The room was silent except for several large jars and neatly arranged small pots, along with piles of dried provisions.

  She sniffed lightly. The air was mixed with the scent of beast meat and magical beast meat, carrying a strong fishy and fermented odor.

  Selene paid little attention to these jumbled smells; her gaze soon fixed on the large jars.

  She walked over slowly, her nose sharply detecting the scent of blood wine. It was a strong, bitter taste—so familiar it made her heart race.

  She struggled to stand and took slow steps to the first wine jar. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the ceramic lid, and a faintly sour and rancid smell wafted out.

  Her brow furrowed tightly. Although some blood wine remained in the jar, only a faint trace of energy lingered. That power was far from enough for her needs.

  Disappointed, Selene turned to the second jar nearby. She carefully opened its lid and took a small sip. The intense blood wine slid down her throat, burning fiercely and gradually dispelling the weakness within her body. Her eyes brightened immediately, and a newfound strength filled her heart.

  After regaining some energy, Selene's eyes shifted to the small pots nearby. She brushed off the mud seal on one and scooped out a mouthful of fruit wine to drink.

  The fruit wine was sweet and rich, its flavor briefly startling her, a flicker of surprise flashing in her eyes. The liquid trickled down her sharp chin, sliding into the hollow between her neck and collarbone.

  She realized her clothes were now tattered and barely covered her slender body.

  Selene gently set down the wine jar and carefully untied the strips of cloth binding her. From her storage ring, she took out a fresh set of clothes. Just as she prepared to change, a sudden bright light pierced the chamber.

  Like any woman, she instinctively covered her chest with both hands. There was a loud bang as the stone slab was quickly closed.

  Draven's heartbeat accelerated, nearly bursting from his chest. He had only intended to check if Selene had awakened, but she had already come to—and even changed her clothes secretly!

  "I didn't see anything!" Draven muttered while rubbing his nose, his mind involuntarily filled with images of Selene's graceful curves.

  "Is it still possible to run now?" he whispered to himself, his thoughts a chaotic mess.

  He sat by the fire pit, nervously restless. The firelight flickered across his tense face, revealing a trace of helplessness and anxiety.

  After an unknown amount of time, the stone slab was pushed open from below, and Selene's figure slowly appeared.

  Draven quickly stood, wanting to greet her, but hesitated. In the end, he simply rubbed his hands together and stood aside, watching the lord lady ascend slowly.

  Fortunately, Selene didn't glance at him once, walking straight out of the manor.

  Draven secretly breathed a sigh of relief and muttered, "Good thing she didn't notice what I was thinking earlier."

  "Where is this place?" Selene's cold voice came from the doorway.

  Draven hurried forward and saw her staring intently at the statue on the altar.

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  The statue's details were finely carved, resembling a dignified werewolf lord with a stern face and an austere expression.

  Suppressing a smile, Draven explained as he approached, "My lady, we have just defeated the Serpent Ancestor and safely escorted you back to the village. It should be safe here now."

  Selene gave no reply, merely gazing silently at the statue, exuding an air of coldness and detachment.

  Even she hadn't expected to choose to rely on this werewolf lord. Her heart was in turmoil, uncertain how to face this sudden situation.

  The succubus clan had always lived by attaching themselves to the strong, but strong ones were not easy to find.

  Every strong individual desired beauty, but beautiful women were all too common.

  Yet the succubi could depend on the strong not only because of their beauty but because of their innate special talents.

  At the lord level, the succubus clan could inherit an extremely rare forbidden skill: the Succubus Oath Binding.

  This was an absolute obedience forbidden technique that could bind a succubus completely to one person, causing her to lose all freedom.

  It can instantly transfer all the caster's power into the body of the subdued, as if the two become one.

  The caster's strength is completely infused, but from that moment on, the caster can no longer control their own power.

  In other words, as long as the subdued person is willing, they can draw power from the caster at any time and use it freely.

  This is the key secret behind why the succubus clan can always cling to the strong—and also the existence Selene hates most.

  But in a life-or-death moment, she had no choice—or rather, she had already silently accepted this decision.

  Fortunately, the other party was only a lord-level werewolf and had yet to realize the truth of the Succubus Oath Binding. Selene's gaze swept to the werewolf lord standing beside her, seeing him shrink back, uneasy and restless.

  She sighed softly, calming her mind: as long as his level does not surpass mine, he can forget about controlling me with that thing.

  That thought made Selene's heart tighten sharply, and a murderous intent surged instantly.

  However, just as Draven looked at her in horror, Selene suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, her complexion turning pale in an instant.

  "So intense? I only glanced!" Draven had a strange thought pop into his head, quickly reaching out to support her—but was stopped by Selene's cold, piercing glare.

  Draven stiffly withdrew his hand, embarrassed and at a loss.

  Swallowing the bloody, metallic taste, the burning in her throat chilled her whole body, filling her with helplessness and sorrow.

  Once this forbidden technique is triggered, even a fleeting murderous thought in her heart brings such agony. She blamed herself silently—if the opponent weren't so bizarrely powerful, she wouldn't have fallen to this.

  Facing the returning Serpent Ancestor, Selene's phantom clones had been completely depleted and could not reform in the short term. The opponent wore armor and wielded a bone spear, while she was left with only a trace of her charm power, utterly powerless to resist.

  That's why she had to gamble everything—unexpectedly giving the werewolf lord a rare opportunity. Strangely, he was able to withstand the lord-level power and that mighty magic wolf.

  Selene's thoughts grew complicated and restless, unable to calm.

  At that moment, a strange sound came from above.

  Both looked up simultaneously and saw Lydia the stewardess leading a squad rushing over.

  Last night, Lydia learned the enemy might possess lord-level combat power, and immediately chose to retreat, avoiding direct confrontation with such a formidable foe.

  Though this seemed cold to Draven, Lydia's decision was right—after all, no high-ranking lord should be sent to die alone.

  Lydia hurried back to the lord's manor overnight to report the situation to Selene.

  Learning of such a hidden danger in the territory, the powerful Selene set out immediately to investigate personally.

  Lydia naturally dared not let her act alone, hastily gathering troops and riding the manor's few Nightmare Horses in pursuit.

  Seeing Selene safe, Lydia finally exhaled and skillfully guided her Nightmare Horse to a steady landing.

  At this point, the battle against the Serpent tribe had truly stabilized.

  Draven finally relaxed.

  Seeing Lydia and the others surround Selene, he quietly stepped aside, trying not to draw attention.

  But as the lord of this place, some matters he couldn't avoid.

  Sure enough, after confirming Selene was unharmed and the enemy defeated, Lydia resumed her usual noble demeanor.

  She pointed to the werewolf lord beside her and ordered him to gather their kin and slaves.

  The manor's elite troops were en route and needed proper food and rest to maintain strength for the upcoming strike to wipe out the Serpent tribe.

  Draven smiled bitterly and quickly explained, "How many remain from the Black Flag Territory's group? Besides Rurik, who was sent with the message, the rest are all fleeing."

  Lydia frowned and questioned the whereabouts of two attendants.

  Those two attendants had long ago been swallowed by the Eyebrow-Patterned King Serpent.

  Draven was prepared and said firmly in a low voice, "This ambush came suddenly. The two attendants bravely sacrificed themselves protecting the clan."

  "Because of this ambush, the clan and slaves fled scattered. Staying here would mean certain death."

  Draven lowered his head and honestly explained the situation. His account was reasonable, leaving no room for dispute.

  Lydia had no choice but to accept it, though her brows remained tightly furrowed.

  Only Selene glanced at Draven from the side, a subtle, inscrutable expression flickering deep in her eyes.