The Serpent Ancestor was an ancient demon who had lived for countless years, so naturally, the formation it set carried a heavy aura of antiquity.

  The carvings bore the marks of time, like secret techniques left over from the ancient era—devoid of any modern magical flair or frivolity.

  Draven's attitude toward the Serpent Ancestor was complicated. Its strength was undeniable, that was a fact.

  At its peak, its power could rival that of a peak demi-human lord. Draven had personally witnessed the Serpent Ancestor unleash its lord-level might, which had earned his awe and respect.

  But precisely because of this, Draven remained wary.

  This old serpent demon had lived too long and experienced too much. It was deep-minded and very cunning.

  Although Draven had imposed a binding contract on it, restricting its actions and powers, he never dared to let his guard down.

  Not to mention, the Serpent Ancestor regaining its lord-level combat power would pose an enormous danger to Draven.

  This was exactly the Serpent Ancestor's headache. As a former powerful being, suddenly losing power was an unpleasant experience—one it had endured twice before, each time painfully and helplessly.

  But this time, the situation was even worse. It couldn't understand why it had mysteriously become the contracted magical beast of a young werewolf.

  Even more baffling was that this form of contract far exceeded its comprehension. It simply could not understand how Draven could resist the temptation of power.

  At first, the Serpent Tribe had been extremely cautious with Draven, but ultimately, they submitted due to the allure of power. Yet this master before it was completely different.

  Even if it obediently played the role of a watchful belt, Draven never relaxed his vigilance, not even a little.

  He never tried to pry into the Serpent Ancestor's secret arts and absolutely forbade the Serpent Ancestor's power from returning to leader level.

  However, the Serpent Ancestor's longevity had taught it how to silently endure and lie in wait. It had learned patience and perseverance.

  Now, it worked harder than ever to carve the formations, hoping to prove its value to Draven and make him let his guard down.

  It believed that someday, Draven would be consumed by the temptation of power and demand more from it. Then, it could strike back. The Serpent Ancestor chuckled inwardly.

  Draven, however, was unaware of the Serpent Ancestor's thoughts and frankly did not care. For him, as long as the Serpent Ancestor worked obediently and efficiently, that was enough.

  And this Serpent Ancestor was indeed efficient. In half a day, it had finished engraving the formations on all the buildings in Village No. 3.

  Seeing this, Draven didn't want to waste such efficiency, so he took Sylvia and headed toward Village No. 1.

  Just after dismounting from the Nightmare Horse, they happened to meet Bran and the others returning from hunting.

  When Bran saw the cat-girl following the leader, a knowing smile appeared on his face—one that all men would understand.

  Draven smiled lightly in return and casually told him,"The bunny girl you keep thinking about has already been 'experienced' by my good friend Rurik at the Selene City tavern."

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  Bran's cheerful expression immediately faded. He felt like he had missed out on something important and wanted to fly to Selene City immediately to see for himself.

  After the joke, Draven had the Serpent Ancestor continue its work, finishing the stone walls and formation engraving in Village No. 1.

  He glanced at Sylvia, who was busily communicating with the treant and knew she had already adapted to life here.

  Then Draven went to check the hunting results of Bran and his team. The large urn originally buried in the underground chamber had been removed, and the empty space was now filled with packets of jerky.

  This showed that Bran and the others had been busy, working hard to accumulate supplies for Black Flag Territory. Draven decided that these jerky supplies would not be transported to Village No. 2.

  Hunting couldn't guarantee good yields every day, especially with the rainy season approaching, making the outside environment harsher and prey harder to find.

  Village No. 1 also needed these reserve foods to ensure daily life. After checking the food, Draven felt relaxed and encouraged Bran to keep up the effort, promising that he would definitely take him along next time there was a chance.

  Unfortunately, Rurik had fundamentally cut off Bran's opportunities. Unlike Black Flag Territory, the life in Selene City only truly came alive at night.

  But this nightlife had nothing to do with the slums, which were more filled with noise and chaos than liveliness.

  However, amid the usual noise tonight, there seemed to be some different sounds.

  They came from a stone house that had been vacant for quite a while. The house finally welcomed a new owner.

  This disappointed several groups of demi-humans who had been hoping to pick up some easy gains—they were caught off guard by this sudden change.

  The distinct sounds were coming from that stone house.

  The tired demi-humans returning from outside were surprised to find a sultry bunny girl standing in front of the Black Flag Tavern.

  For the residents of the slums, the Black Flag Tavern was definitely a novelty. You could trade a low-grade magical beast meat the size of a horn cup for a horn cup of liquor.

  For ordinary demi-humans, such a deal was almost unattainable.

  The bloodline warriors chose to watch and wait, anticipating someone to test this new place first.

  On the first day, Rurik stood stiffly at the door like a wooden statue. He had memorized all the shouting calls the leader taught him inside out, but when it came time to shout, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

  Countless eyes on the busy street watched him, making him so nervous he couldn't speak. It wasn't until the pedestrians thinned and the crimson dusk enveloped the land, growing quieter around him, that Rurik sat dazedly at the doorway, unsure what he was waiting for.

  Just as he was about to give up and close shop, Angelica appeared in his sight.

  Angelica, the bunny girl who had helped him grow a lot overnight. Rurik looked at her, mouth agape, as if it hadn't closed all day.

  The rabbit girl suddenly laughed out loud, amused by his stiff demeanor. Angelica recognized the young werewolf.

  She remembered his shy look from the previous night, which had made her feel fond of him. But she hadn't expected that the next time they met, he would be running a tavern.

  She glanced at the words carved on the wall—young werewolf and unfamiliar tavern—both felt new and curious to her.

  "What's this tavern for? Selling drinks? Or maybe…~"

  Angelica suddenly thought of something funny, covering her mouth and laughing joyfully.

  The two of them stood by the roadside, gradually chatting. Rurik learned that Angelica also lived nearby and worked hard at the tavern to support her two younger brothers.

  From Rurik, Angelica heard about Black Flag Territory, and a bold idea came to her mind.

  "Hey, young werewolf, how about this—I help you sell drinks, alright?"

  With a payment of one piece of magical beast meat for every ten cups of liquor sold, Rurik couldn't refuse. Especially when Angelica's chubby little lips almost shut his mouth while offering the deal.

  The agreement was quickly reached. That night, Angelica stayed in the stone house and once again conquered the young werewolf.

  Rurik had already experienced that kind of joy the leader talked about.

  The next morning, Rurik carried jerky and followed Angelica to meet her two frail little brothers.

  He made up his mind—he wanted to bring them both back to Black Flag Territory.

  At that time, he didn't know he had inadvertently brought two excellent breeders to Black Flag Territory. Of course, these were things only learned later.

  After feeding her two brothers, Angelica finally had no worries. Sure enough, starting from that evening, the Black Flag Tavern gradually gained a reputation in the slums.

  It was also that same evening, inside the lord's mansion, the steward Lydia stared at three metal coins placed before Selene.

  The coins were rounded and made of gold, silver, and copper respectively. Their surfaces were smooth, engraved with intricate and exquisite patterns.

  Lydia reached out and picked up the golden coin, hesitating as she asked,

  "Are you really sure you want to imitate humans and implement a currency system?"

  Selene didn't glance at Lydia but fixed her determined gaze on the imposing statue at the palace entrance.

  Her tone carried a strange excitement:

  "Yes. I want to make Selene City the true center of this territory."