When Draven told the golden monkey chieftain that they could not share the method for brewing bloodwine, the old leader's face immediately fell, marked by pain and disappointment.

  His gaze dimmed, as if the last shred of hope had been extinguished. But when he heard that monkeywine could still be used for trade, that despair gradually gave way to a glimmer of joy—as if something long lost had suddenly returned to his hands.

  Draven, sharp as ever, seized this opportunity. He understood all too well how desperate the other side was for bloodwine. Calculating carefully, he cunningly struck a deal with Goldmanes—one that was overwhelmingly in his own favor.

  Under the agreement, for each jar of bloodwine, he would receive two jars of monkeywine of the same size. The deal was clearly lopsided, but Draven didn't care in the least.

  "Only a fool doesn't take advantage when it's offered," he thought to himself.

  After all, this was a benefit the other side had practically delivered on a silver platter. How could Draven possibly say no? What's more, he had two small magical octopuses—creatures capable of enhancing the quality of the monkeywine even further.

  In this way, not only was the exchange guaranteed to be profitable, but it would also help enrich Draven's resources in the long run.

  Suppressing the excitement in his heart, Draven carefully stored the first batch of fifty jars of monkeywine into his storage ring.

  He then made a promise: he would personally return the next day with twenty-five jars of bloodwine.

  With that settled, Draven set off on the journey home.

  This trip had not only resolved half the security concerns on the southern border, but also brought him into contact with a new group of kind and cooperative neighbors.

  Yet the greatest prize of all was undoubtedly the monkeywine. Compared to that, the spoils from the mud-armored boars paled in significance.

  From the golden monkey chieftain, Draven also learned that summer was fast approaching—and with it, a trading caravan.

  What shocked him most was that this caravan consisted of humans.

  The news stirred a deep sense of anticipation within him. He didn't yet have any particularly valuable goods to trade, but it was a rare event to encounter a human caravan in these desolate lands. During his time at Black Wolf Keep, he had never seen a single one.

  The arrival of a merchant caravan could only be a good thing. It meant access to trade—and more importantly, to information from the outside world.

  That said, everyone knew that beastkin tribes tended to get the short end of the stick in such exchanges. They lacked a natural talent for trade, and haggling had never been their strong suit.

  Upon returning to his territory, Draven remounted his beast companion, Ragnar.

  The sky was darkening fast, and if he continued his patrol, he'd have to camp in the wild overnight.

  Not wanting to leave Viola alone at home any longer, he decided to head directly back to the village.

  Once there, Draven handed over the freshly killed mud-armored boar to Rurik, who was on duty. Though young, Rurik was highly skilled in the art of butchery and hunting.

  Draven had felled the creature with a single arrow, and the blood had spilled everywhere—something he mildly regretted.

  "What a waste of blood," he thought. "I need to get into the habit of capturing them alive."

  After all, brewing bloodwine required only the freshest magical beast blood.

  Mud-armored boars were massive, offering a wealth of meat. Their tough hides could also be turned into durable leather armor—a valuable commodity.

  Draven instructed Rurik to carefully extract the beast's magic core and skin it properly. He told him:

  "Magical beast meat is a critical resource for our tribe. We'll keep a small portion fresh for immediate use. The rest must be smoked into jerky and stored."

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  Among beastkin, magical beast meat played an essential role in development. Most ordinary tribe members couldn't handle the raw energy from a magic core, so the most direct and effective path to awakening one's bloodline was by consuming magical beast meat.

  Naturally, Draven carefully stored the core himself.

  In the past, he had no real use for such items and couldn't bear to waste them. But ever since he had learned the truth from the troll chieftain Garruk, he had a new plan.

  As it turned out, both Selene and Steward Lydia valued him because of what they called his "natural awakening ability."

  This ability meant that he could undergo a second bloodline awakening—reaching the strength of a chieftain—without relying on any external force.

  No chieftain-grade magic cores, no rare potions—just his own innate potential.

  When he first heard this, Draven found it both laughable and fortunate. It had been a stroke of dumb luck.

  Back then, he had still been traveling with Rurik and Bran and had absolutely no chance of getting his hands on a chieftain-grade magic core or any rare alchemical aid.

  If not for his exceptional talent, he might never have had the opportunity to rise to chieftain level in this lifetime.

  Draven took advantage of his conversation with the troll chieftain Garruk to ask many questions about the proper use of magic cores.

  Although Garruk spoke simply, he revealed some crucial details. Later, Draven confirmed this information with Viola, who came from the Firefox tribe, finally fully understanding the truth about magic cores.

  Magic cores contain immense energy, but they are by no means pure or harmless.

  By absorbing a magic core, one can indeed significantly boost their power in a short time and become stronger, but this comes with a heavy price: the limit on future growth.

  In other words, if a beastkin relies too much on magic cores to enhance their strength, they may become powerful temporarily, but their long-term potential will be severely restricted, unable to break through that bottleneck.

  Because of this, most promising beastkin avoid swallowing magic cores unless they feel their power has plateaued and they have hit a growth ceiling.

  This is one of the advantages of noble birth—they have access to inherited knowledge and experience and don't have to blindly explore on their own.

  In contrast, wild children like Draven who come from the wilderness know almost nothing about these matters.

  Once he understood this, Draven immediately wrote this important information down on a piece of beast hide. He had grown accustomed to recording practical knowledge on beast hides—about magical beasts' habits, hunting techniques, and processing methods.

  To him, lacking inheritance was not frightening; what was frightening was being unaware that inheritance was lacking.

  All knowledge is accumulated bit by bit through long-term, continuous learning and summarizing.

  Watching Rurik finishing processing the mud-armored boar, Draven quietly planned what to do next.

  When Rurik was almost done handling the meat and magic core, Draven returned to the main house and entered the underground secret chamber.

  Upon entering, Draven saw two small blood-red octopuses poking their heads out of several jars of wine.

  Their round, shiny eyes stared at him expectantly. Draven greeted them and, as if by magic, pulled out a jar of monkeywine from his storage pouch.

  He had meant to tease the little creatures, but as soon as he took out the monkeywine, both octopuses simultaneously called out its name—"Monkeywine."

  Then, unbelievably, the two octopuses quickly dove back into the jars.

  Although Draven was used to seeing them swimming around in the jars, he was still amazed and filled with awe at their agile movements. He thought to himself that perhaps this was truly the beast god's special favor upon them.

  Through the thick jars, Draven began a special conversation with the octopuses.

  To his delight, the two not only recognized monkeywine but could also recite its brewing recipe in detail, as if they knew it like a family genealogy.

  Draven quickly took out the beast hide and recorded the recipe they recited one by one. Aside from some fruits mentioned, the most critical ingredients were several special magical potions.

  Although he didn't have those potions yet, he believed that as long as he gradually collected and cultivated them, he would obtain them someday.

  Viola had rich experience in this area, and Draven was confident that in the near future, the Black Flag Territory would be able to brew monkeywine on his own.

  Next, the two octopuses brought even more exciting news.

  They said that the monkeywine raw material proportions Draven had obtained this time were very good, with great potential for improvement.

  They were fully confident they could enhance the monkeywine to a higher quality, even granting it healing properties.

  According to their description, the upgraded monkeywine would contain more life energy. Drinking it could not only prolong life but also quickly heal ordinary injuries.

  Even with serious wounds, as long as they were not fatal, monkeywine could help a person barely hold on to their last breath.

  Suddenly, Draven realized this was no ordinary wine—it was clearly a miraculous elixir!

  He quickly arranged the remaining monkeywine neatly and instructed the two octopuses to prioritize improving the quality of these wines.

  Then he took out the prepared wine skins and filled several jars with the promised bloodwine for the golden monkeys.

  While busy, he casually asked the octopuses if they could brew bloodwine themselves.

  Draven felt relying solely on the five large jars of bloodwine was somewhat passive. Especially since the little fox girl Viola's talent in magic arrays was not outstanding.

  She could barely comprehend the complex arrays in the stone house, let alone the even more difficult brewing arrays inside the wine jars.

  To Draven's surprise, the two octopuses said they were fully capable of brewing bloodwine themselves.

  They said the so-called arrays were merely basic methods researched by blood elves of their kind. As long as they were given enough raw materials and magical beast blood, they could produce as much bloodwine as desired.

  Draven almost fainted at this. The overwhelming joy hit his heart like a violent storm.

  "Gareth," he silently repeated in his mind, "I never should have scattered your ashes carelessly in the forest. Your contributions deserve a statue in your honor!"