It wasn't until Draven's presence had completely left Village No. 3 that the Serpent Ancestor truly breathed a sigh of relief.

  The heavy burden on his heart finally lifted a little. His entire serpentine body slowly stretched out on the dirt, as if trying to shake off the tension and pressure from earlier.

  Gregor sat at the stone house's table, his gaze falling on the bottle of potion lying there. Then he glanced again at the Serpent Ancestor, who still wore a terrified expression and curled-up posture. Gradually, Gregor's face softened. He couldn't help but marvel inwardly—only the true self could handle these kinds of tricks.

  Although they shared most of their memories, Gregor had to admit that Draven was the real strong and wise one.

  He looked at the potion on the table and revealed a complex smile."At least, we got the potion, didn't we?"

  The Serpent Ancestor slightly lifted his snake head, staring at Gregor's expression as if seeing hope and determination in his eyes.

  Even after enduring torment and exploitation, he was not afraid—because as long as he could secure this serpent, any future loss would be worth it. He silently vowed to repay this investment two, even threefold in the future.

  Meanwhile, Draven rode the Nightmare Horse, patrolling the outskirts of Village No. 3. The Ghost Magic Armor on his body flickered faintly, reflecting a subtle glow. Naturally, his mood was extremely excited.

  The recent test had proven that the armor could not only adapt to his human form but also automatically transform when he shifted into a werewolf, fully covering his changed body and making him look like a wolf clad entirely in steel.

  Most importantly, its defense was absolutely reliable. Draven's full-strength strike left no mark on the armor whatsoever. Garruk's spear had not been sacrificed in vain.

  Although he had hesitated before accepting the Ghost Magic Armor—after all, he didn't completely trust the Serpent Ancestor yet, unsure if there was any tampering with the armor—its rarity and value were too great to refuse.

  Especially for a shapeshifting demi-human like those in their Black Wolf clan, a suitable set of armor was extremely rare.

  On top of that, with both the bone weapon and the demon lure potion formula in hand, Draven felt much more at ease. After all, with Gregor watching, even if the Serpent Ancestor harbored ill intentions, it would be difficult to succeed.

  A sharp glint flashed in Draven's eyes as he prepared to head back to Village No. 2.

  This trip had been quite fruitful. Not only did he obtain the Ghost Magic Armor, but more importantly, after this trial, he believed the Serpent Ancestor would regard Gregor as a true companion.

  Even though the Serpent Ancestor still had limitations in ability and knowledge, as long as he was loyal, he remained a valuable resource in Draven's hands.

  Becoming a contracted demon beast and yet failing to wholeheartedly serve the master—that would be the true sin.

  Thinking of this, Draven's mind drifted back to the mysterious and powerful Selene. The succubus figure in the contract's aura seemed to always carry an invisible barrier, preventing him from fully approaching her.

  This isolation disappointed Draven. He had originally planned to wait for this power to dissipate before making his next move.

  Unexpectedly, Selene seemed dissatisfied with the current situation as well.

  Far away in Selene City, Selene sat by a stone table, her gaze sweeping over the array of dishes before her, her brow slightly furrowed.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "So, these are the most popular dishes in the city's taverns?" Her tone carried clear displeasure.

  Her personal maid Anne lowered her head, not understanding why her mistress was so upset.

  "Yes, Lady Selene," Anne replied cautiously in a low voice,"These new dishes are very popular in the city taverns."

  Selene irritably waved her hand. Anne understood and quickly ordered the other maids to clear the table, leaving Selene alone in the quiet rear garden.

  After a short while, Anne hurried back and reported,"Lady Selene, Deputy City Lord Freya requests an audience outside."

  "Let her in."

  Hearing it was Deputy City Lord Freya, Selene stood up and adjusted the sheer long robe she wore.

  With the clear and melodious sound of silver bells, Freya gracefully entered the garden, exuding an elegant demeanor and a faint smile on her face.

  Freya moved gracefully through the courtyard, swaying her waist with a clear air of confidence and warmth as she slowly approached where Selene was seated. From a distance, she smiled and said to Selene,

  "Lady Selene, I heard that the dishes the chef has been preparing lately don't quite suit your taste." Her voice was soft but carried a hint of probing."Would you like me to introduce a new chef? Perhaps some Southern cuisine would be more to your liking."

  Selene replied lightly,"Deputy City Lord is thoughtful." She did not respond directly to the suggestion to change chefs because she knew well that Freya's visit was about more than just the food.

  Sure enough, after a brief awkward silence, Freya moved on to the main topic.

  Since the Succubus Trading Company was established, Selene had appointed Freya as Deputy City Lord, responsible for the company's operations and the formation of the caravan. However, regarding the caravan's escort arrangements, Freya and Lydia—the Chief Steward of the Lord's Mansion and Vice President of the Succubus Trading Company—had a clear disagreement.

  Lydia insisted on using the Troll tribe as the main force for the escort team. Freya, however, believed that the caravan's affairs were extremely complex and could not rely solely on the trolls.

  Selene frowned and calmly asked,"Then, Deputy City Lord, do you believe there is a race more reliable than the trolls?"

  Freya paused, seemingly detecting the displeasure in Selene's tone. She also silently confirmed that the trolls were indeed loyal supporters of Selene.

  She answered calmly,"The loyalty of the trolls is unquestionable, but the caravan needs more than loyalty. They are hot-tempered and, while strong, not adept at handling complex interpersonal and inter-tribal relationships. The caravan must deal with multiple races and diverse conflicting interests. I believe it is better to add guards from other races to maintain peace and order."

  Faced with Selene's doubt, Freya was clearly well-prepared; her concise explanation left Selene thoughtful and unable to deny the reasoning.

  A trace of pride flickered in Freya's eyes. Having led her people to join the Northern Succubi, she was certainly unwilling to be just a pawn.

  The Succubus Trading Company was an excellent platform, and Selene had entrusted it to her management. Freya's heart was full of excitement and expectation. She had worried the task might be difficult to execute, but Selene had unexpectedly made things easier for her.

  "Perhaps you are right," Selene finally said,"We will hold a meeting later to discuss which races would be most appropriate to add."

  While Freya's mind raced with possibilities, Selene had already made her decision. She would bring the Deputy City Lord to the Lord's Mansion to convene a high-level discussion on the matter.

  Thinking of her aunt Lydia's stubborn attitude, Selene sighed. Lydia's deep-seated prejudice against the Southern Succubi often made her management work exceptionally difficult.

  Inside the Lord's Mansion, high-ranking representatives of the territory's races gathered together.

  Besides the succubi, representatives from the other four major tribes of the territory were present: Drogar of the Troll tribe, Leontis of the Lion tribe, Wolf of the Frost Werewolf tribe, and Torvald of the Minotaur tribe.

  These four tribes formed the solid shield of Selene City.

  Although they were not necessarily the strongest of their tribes, they sufficiently represented their peoples' will.

  Seated on the high throne, Selene said,"I have called you all here to discuss matters concerning the caravan escort."

  Drogar, representing the Troll tribe, stood first. Under a subtle glance from Chief Steward Lydia, he spoke loudly,"Lady Selene, the loyalty of the Troll tribe is unmatched. Please trust us; the trolls will surely fulfill the escort duties."

  Like his brother Garruk, Drogar was a capable lieutenant carefully groomed by Lydia. Unlike most reckless trolls, they were cautious and responsible.

  As Drogar spoke, even Selene nodded in acknowledgment of his reasonable words.

  However, unexpectedly, the first to voice opposition was not a Southern Succubus but Torvald of the Minotaur tribe.

  "Is the loyalty of the Minotaur tribe not enough?" Torvald's voice was steady and firm, showing no signs of weakness.

  Lydia frowned deeply; she already had a poor impression of Torvald. She thought to herself, why would this fellow stir trouble now? Could he be acting under some secret orders?

  She turned to look at Deputy City Lord Freya. When she saw Freya's approving glance, a dizzying thunderclap seemed to explode in her mind.

  "When did this all start...?"