There was still some distance from Selene City when Draven leapt onto the back of Nightmare Horse.

  The black Nightmare Horse suddenly sprang into the air, flapping its wings against the air and quickly gaining height, swiftly closing the gap with the Martha siblings who had set off ahead.

  As they traveled, Draven began arranging the upcoming plan of action. He said to Liliana,"You take Martha and go ahead straight back to Black Flag Territory. Martha's leg just healed—she's not suited for long journeys yet."

  Liliana nodded in acknowledgment, holding Martha tightly as she quickly mounted Nightmare Horse.

  In contrast, the Dorian brothers were less fortunate.

  Draven pulled out a map from his pocket and handed it to them."Keep this map safe. You have seven days—within that time, you must reach Black Flag Territory."

  The map marked the mountain trails and valleys leading to Black Flag Territory. The path was rough and difficult, but for agile deer-people, seven days was more than enough.

  The Dorian brothers took the map made of animal hide, full of confidence without hesitation.

  They stood there, looking at Draven expectantly, as if waiting for him to say more.

  Seeing this, Draven kicked each of them aside irritably."What are you waiting for? Get going!"

  "But, Bronan…" Dorian tried to voice a concern but was cut off by Draven's sharp glare.

  "Enough nonsense, move!"

  The Dorian brothers said no more and hurried off with their siblings toward Black Flag Territory.

  Watching their retreating backs, Draven turned to Liliana and instructed,"Don't stop along the way, go straight back to the village. Once you arrive, release Nightmare Horse—he'll find me on his own."

  Though Liliana wasn't clear on Draven's plan, she obediently nodded in agreement.

  Worry was evident in Martha's eyes, but Draven smiled gently at her and patted Nightmare Horse's haunches.

  "Let's go!"

  Excited, Liliana urged the horse forward. Nightmare Horse spread its wings and soared into the sky, quickly disappearing into the horizon.

  At this moment, Draven was alone. He took out his chameleon cloak from his backpack and quickly draped it over himself, his body gradually blending into the surrounding bushes and shadows.

  This cloak allowed him to remain hidden in the wilderness, making it hard to be detected.

  Since Bronan angered the lord, he had been expelled from Selene City.

  At first, he sulked, hiding in the minotaur settlement within the tribe, unable to bully the weak anymore.

  But over time, his second brother Torvald gave him a new toy that opened a new path.

  From then on, the exiled Bronan no longer relied solely on brute force to intimidate the weak—he formed a hunting party.

  However, this hunting party was unlike ordinary hunters; they didn't truly hunt beasts but specialized in stealing others' prey.

  Whenever they went out, they almost always returned fully laden.

  Bronan's father, the minotaur chief Borg, indulged his youngest son, which only made Bronan's arrogance grow.

  Having suffered setbacks in Selene City, Bronan became smarter after leaving the city.

  He learned who was easy to mess with and who wasn't, deliberately targeting small factions that came to Selene City to make a living. Draven and his group had once been their victims.

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  Draven always wondered: the basin surrounding Selene City was so vast—how did Bronan's hunting party always manage to find them to bully and rob?

  He decided to investigate personally. When he found Bronan's hideout, he saw a dozen or so minotaurs lounging lazily in the shade.

  He did not attack immediately. It was still early, and the chameleon cloak gave him the advantage of concealment. He wanted to uncover the truth first.

  Besides Bronan himself, the hunting party had only three bloodline warriors; the other dozen or so were ordinary minotaurs.

  Among them was a disabled minotaur whose appearance was quite unusual, arousing Draven's curiosity.

  This crippled minotaur didn't look like a full minotaur—he seemed more like a half-bull, half-human hybrid. Unlike the other minotaurs lounging leisurely, his situation was clearly much harder.

  The entire person was stuffed into a rough wicker basket. The basket had a sturdy handle, and next to it lay a wooden stick casually placed, giving off a crude and hurried impression.

  Obviously, this crippled minotaur had been carried here by Bronan and his gang. Draven felt puzzled: if they bullied the weak and stole their prey, why bring along such a half-broken cripple?

  What was even stranger was that this guy didn't even have hands—no basic combat ability—and seemed utterly useless.

  His gaze fixed on the minotaur trapped inside the basket, a trace of sympathy appearing in his eyes. Judging by what he saw, this minotaur must have lost all limbs, only a torso remaining—a living human club.

  What baffled him even more was that this"human club" was actually the highest-ranking member among Bronan's group, with strength at the early level of a leader. This bizarre combination deepened Draven's interest, and he decided to observe patiently.

  The Nightmare Horse would take at least until the next morning to make a round trip, so Draven still had time. He sat under a large tree nearby and began to watch Bronan and the minotaurs carefully.

  Time passed by slowly until dusk. Most of Bronan's group spent their time lying under the shade, sleeping. Occasionally, a few would gather, chatting crudely, laughing and joking, completely unguarded.

  They sometimes ate rough food, looking very sloppy. Draven looked at them with a sneer in his heart; he hadn't expected this group of minotaurs to seem so idle and aimless.

  However, this gave Draven some clues. The most obvious was that the crippled minotaur wasn't bullied by the others—instead, he was shown a certain degree of respect.

  Bronan clearly treated him differently and seemed to acknowledge his presence. This discovery made Draven focus even more on the crippled minotaur.

  He noticed that the human-club minotaur's face was pale, breathing weak, and his body was covered with scars. Although his strength was at the early leader level, with missing hands and legs, it was impossible for him to be a match against Bronan and his group.

  Bronan was the type who bullied the weak and feared the strong. Since they showed respect to this crippled minotaur, there had to be a reason.

  Draven also observed that during their casual chats, they occasionally spat out foul words and sneers with cruel smiles.

  This cold and ruthless expression gradually diminished Draven's sympathy. He began to think that this crippled minotaur was not innocent—he was actually one of Bronan's gang, part of the same vicious scum.

  They kowtowed before the strong but were merciless bullies toward the weak—that was their true nature.

  Draven thought to himself: if it weren't for wanting to uncover their secrets, he would have struck when they were bragging about their so-called achievements.

  Just as Draven was about to give up waiting, a sudden turn of events happened.

  A sharp cry pierced the afternoon silence, and a hawk swiftly dove from the sky, steadily landing on the shoulder of the crippled minotaur. Draven's heart tightened suddenly; he instantly understood something.

  So that's it—no wonder Bronan and his gang could always find suitable targets so precisely. The creature that landed on the crippled minotaur's shoulder was a Golden-Eyed Demon Hawk.

  Although this Golden-Eyed Demon Hawk was a low-level magical beast, it was famous for its keen eyesight. It was said they could overlook vast lands from high above, with any slightest movement escaping their golden eyes being impossible.

  It seemed Bronan and his group relied on this demon hawk to scout their prey, allowing them to strike repeatedly and steal others' gains.

  Draven paid closer attention and noticed a small metal ring on the demon hawk's leg, emitting a faint glow.

  His heartbeat quickened—that was the Beast Control Ring he recognized. He himself had two, kept in his storage ring.

  "Beast Control Ring," Draven muttered, his gaze sharpening. Although this ring was much smaller than usual, the one on the demon hawk's leg was definitely a Beast Control Ring.

  This discovery delighted Draven; he felt he had finally found an opportunity. With this ring, he could make a big profit.

  The Beast Control Ring was far more valuable than a regular magical beast contract scroll. It wasn't a single-use item but reusable. Killing the original owner would allow the killer to seize the usage rights directly.

  However, before taking action, Draven knew he had to get rid of this Golden-Eyed Demon Hawk first. Though it was a pity, there was no other way.

  His contract slots were full and he couldn't forcibly contract more beasts; only by killing it could he obtain the Beast Control Ring.

  He concealed all his breath, donned the magical lizard cloak, blending almost completely with the environment, and silently approached the demon hawk.

  Every step was careful, but just a few steps from the demon hawk, it suddenly sensed something amiss.

  Its golden eyes abruptly turned toward Draven's direction, its sharp gaze piercing through all the fog. Draven knew he had been exposed.