The scene before him was nothing short of astonishing—something one would never witness in an ordinary forest.

  A massive emerald-green python, as thick as a fuel drum, was chasing a bear the size of a one-story house through the dense jungle.

  Wherever the two passed, trees were smashed apart, branches and leaves flew in all directions, and the ground was littered with trampled grass and upturned earth—an utter mess.

  Draven's eyes gleamed with excitement, though a hint of confusion flickered behind the thrill. He had been searching this dense forest for quite a while, expecting to encounter at most one beast. He hadn't anticipated finding two at once.

  One was a vicious and wild creature; the other resembled a magical beast, but the aura it emitted was strange and hard to classify—it wasn't clear what it actually was.

  There was no time to think further. The brown bear was clearly at a disadvantage, fleeing in panic, but the giant python was rapidly closing the distance.

  The snake opened its massive mouth—it looked as if it had torn itself apart in an instant—revealing two slightly curved fangs.

  Those fangs dripped with a clear, slick liquid that glistened like water as it fell, unmistakably venomous.

  Draven reacted instantly. He drew his bow, loosed an arrow infused with blood-red light, and it streaked through the air with incredible speed. With two sharp cracks, the snake's fangs shattered into pieces.

  Deprived of its poisonous weapons, the giant python became visibly disoriented, but it still managed to clamp its jaws onto the brown bear's head, letting out a low, strange growl.

  Draven froze for a moment. The snake seemed to realize it was in danger. It suddenly flung aside the nearly unconscious bear and lunged straight at Draven.

  If it could overpower a chieftain-level brown bear so thoroughly, then this serpent was no doubt a chieftain-class beast as well. A flicker of regret crossed Draven's eyes—he couldn't form a contract with a wild beast like this one.

  He swiftly switched tactics, lowering his longbow and grabbing his battle axe. Bloodline power surged through his body as Draven transformed into a towering werewolf. With a thunderous roar, he leapt into the air, gripping the axe tightly and preparing to strike with devastating force.

  The giant python faltered for a split second, its body hesitating mid-motion. Draven had originally intended to knock it out with the back of his axe—but just then, a sharp voice rang out from the distance: "Stop!"

  His axe twisted mid-swing, changing from a blunt strike to a sharp, cleaving blow. The blade came down hard on the python's head, slicing through it as easily as a knife through tofu. The snake's head dropped to the ground with a thud.

  Before the figure in the distance could reach him, Draven quickly darted to the brown bear's side and performed a forced contract. Snake blood splattered all over him, but he didn't care. He stood there calmly, waiting.

  The moment he laid eyes on the emerald-green python, he had already guessed its identity—they weren't strangers.

  He remembered camping by the river once, and how the Ghost-faced Owl had alerted him in the middle of the night. Though he hadn't been able to find the intruder at the time, his werewolf senses had picked up the beast's scent.

  It was a snake-type beast, and its territory bordered that of the serpentfolk. There was no doubt—it was their guardian beast.

  At that very moment, Greensnake was rushing toward the scene from afar. Although slower than the giant python, he was doing his best to keep up.

  Unexpectedly, the brown bear's escape path had led straight into Black Wolf territory.

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  Recently, the serpentfolk chieftain Red Serpent had strictly forbidden any member of their tribe from entering the Black Wolf clan's domain—Black Flag Territory—in order to avoid unnecessary conflict.

  Greensnake understood the gravity of the situation and tried to speed up, hoping to help the guardian python finish the fight quickly.

  But just as he was about to arrive, he saw—far ahead—the Black Wolf chieftain swinging his axe down on the giant python.

  Greensnake's heart sank. He couldn't help but shout, "Stop!"

  But the axe showed no mercy. With a single stroke, the python's head was severed.

  It was his most trusted guardian beast—now lying dead on the ground.

  In their tribe, a being of overwhelming power had been passed down through generations—so revered that they didn't hesitate to sacrifice clansmen to sustain it. It was their most precious force.

  And now, with just one swing of an axe, the Black Wolf Tribe's chieftain, Draven, had slain Green Serpent's greatest reliance! The strike had come too fast, too fierce; Green Serpent hadn't even had time to react.

  His eyes burned with fury and hatred, but he had no idea how the other man had done it—and didn't care to find out. All he knew was that the black werewolf in front of him had to die. That bastard had to pay with his life.

  Rage flared like wildfire. Without hesitation, Green Serpent charged. As he finally closed the distance, he said nothing—his jade-green snake spear thrust straight at the Black Wolf chieftain's chest.

  But Draven wasn't the least bit startled by the sudden assault. He had been conserving his strength and watching calmly. With a slight sidestep, he easily dodged the spear's poisonous green glow.

  "Poisoned," Draven muttered, his face darkening instantly. He could sense the venom on the weapon—one careless move and he'd be in real trouble.

  Without pause, Draven lashed out with a heavy kick to Green Serpent's waist. Agonizing pain tore through him as his body flew several meters through the air like a rag doll.

  Before he could regain his footing, another brutal kick smashed into him, sending him sprawling to the ground. Enraged and humiliated, Green Serpent finally began to calm down.

  As he struggled to get up, Draven was already closing in. With one swift motion, he kicked the snake spear away and pressed the broad, icy edge of his battleaxe against Green Serpent's throat.

  "Didn't I already warn you? Invade again, and I'll show no mercy," Draven growled, his voice frigid and full of killing intent.

  Green Serpent's pupils contracted sharply—he could feel the ironclad resolve behind those words. The Black Wolf chieftain wasn't bluffing; he would absolutely follow through.

  There was no time now to avenge the guardian beast. Green Serpent twisted desperately on the ground, trying to move his neck further from the axe.

  Draven let out a cold snort and stomped down hard on Green Serpent's chest.

  The force was overwhelming. Blood sprayed from Green Serpent's mouth as he rolled in agony, groaning in wave after wave of pain.

  Draven frowned. One clean axe strike would've been enough. But watching Green Serpent's pathetic struggle reminded him of the Serpentkin's hidden power. Now wasn't the time to go all out and spark a war.

  He gave one last savage kick, sending Green Serpent tumbling away.

  "Get lost. I'll spare you this once. Next time, I won't."

  Green Serpent buried his face in the dirt, unwilling to let the Black Wolf chieftain see the hatred in his eyes. He said nothing. Staggering to his feet, he stumbled back toward Serpentkin territory without looking back.

  Draven chuckled quietly. He knew Green Serpent was probably seething with rage.

  But he didn't care. Green Serpent was just the Third Elder. What truly concerned him were the three chieftain-level beings behind that man—those were the ones to watch.

  He picked up the discarded snake spear and stuffed it into his pack, then walked over to the massive brown bear lying on the ground.

  With a light nudge of his foot, he tapped the bear.

  "Don't pretend. I've seen wild beasts play dead, but I didn't think magic beasts would too."

  What happened next nearly left Draven speechless.

  A strange magical ripple radiated from the brown bear. In an instant, the enormous beast vanished.

  In its place stood a girl—no more than a meter and a half tall, with delicate features almost indistinguishable from a human.

  She had pointed ears and two spiral-shaped little horns on her head—features that made it hard for Draven to identify her kind.

  "An elf?" Draven asked cautiously, ignoring the burning grief in the girl's eyes.

  She shook her head fiercely. "I'm not an elf!"

  "Liliana is a druid. A druid of Noctrelle!"

  Draven blinked, puzzled. He knew what a druid was—but Noctrelle? That name meant nothing to him.

  More importantly, he wondered: was a druid considered a magic beast? After all, forced contracts only worked on magic beasts.

  He frowned, trying to piece everything together.

  "How dare you enslave the great Liliana! My teacher will never forgive you!" the girl suddenly shouted, her voice shrill with rage and indignation.

  Since they could talk, he figured he might as well ask directly. "This isn't enslavement—it's a magic beast contract. Are druids considered magic beasts?"

  But the next moment, the girl's expression turned blank—like she had just suffered a heavy blow.

  She muttered, "No… No, that's impossible…"

  Just now, she had sensed it herself. It really was a magic beast contract—not the slave bond she had feared.