"We're hunting in Rhinoceros Man territory not to make sure they eat well every day."

  Draven swept his gaze across the room, letting it land on Alaric."You want them to see results, to understand that cooperation brings benefits. But they can only see a little— just enough to keep them interested, not enough to feed them full."

  This wasn't just a simple hunting agreement. It was a carefully crafted strategy— a calculated induction.

  If they're still hungry, they'll have the drive to come closer to us.

  If they start eating comfortably every day, will they still rely on us? Most likely, they'll start thinking about turning their backs on us.

  Draven leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin with one hand, a knowing smile on his lips.

  Alaric sat beside him, not fully grasping the deeper meaning of the leader's words, but he knew one thing for sure: if Draven said it, he had already mapped it all out in his mind.

  Draven had likely already simulated how the Rhinoceros Men would think and act over the coming years.

  "What's the ideal outcome?" Draven tapped the table."It's when they think they can stand on their own— but they're always just one step short. They believe a bit more effort will solve their problems, but they never quite cross that threshold."

  He paused, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold smirk.

  "That's when they'll willingly drift toward our Black Flag Territory. Not because we begged them— but because they'll ask for the partnership."

  Alaric cracked a grin. Twisted, but I like it.

  The rest of the arrangements were just as meticulous.

  Five hunting squads, led by Alaric, weren't just responsible for bringing in food. Alaric was also tasked with reconnaissance. He had to quickly map out the Rhinoceros Men's territory— terrain, resources, key locations. Compared to that, how much meat they brought back was secondary.

  What surprised Alaric even more was Draven's specific instruction on distributing the spoils: give the least nutritious meat to the Rhinoceros Men.

  Things like wild rabbits and squirrels— those should go to them first. Keep them just barely unsatisfied.

  Alaric nodded. It wasn't his usual style, manipulating people like this, but he understood— this was what a real leader had to do.

  Beyond Alaric's five teams, Draven had made other arrangements.

  Serpent Ancestor led a specialized squad. They wouldn't participate in the regular hunts, but instead focused solely on hunting magical beasts in the dangerous borderland between the Rhinoceros Men and the Golden Monkey people.

  Serpent Ancestor excelled at these risky, high-reward missions. His presence was like a shadow in the mist— always elusive, but shockingly effective.

  Draven didn't say much to him. Serpent Ancestor just grinned, clearly having anticipated Draven's plan— maybe he'd already laid the traps in advance.

  The remaining fourteen squads were divided into two groups.

  One group remained within the southern Black Flag Territory to continue hunting. Each squad operated independently, both to supplement supplies and as reserve forces on standby.

  The other group was assigned to the frost wolf Kevin, who would use them as training subjects for the next phase of tactical development.

  "Lumber and stone must be collected immediately. And we need to start building houses," Draven said, looking toward Bran."You're not seriously planning to keep everyone living in tents forever, are you?"

  Bran opened his mouth to argue, but the sharp look in Draven's eyes made him shrink back instantly.

  "You do know how to read the room. Try using that brain more. Don't waste all your energy chasing women."

  Bran scratched his head innocently, clearly not planning to argue further.

  With the tasks assigned, most people began moving out. But Draven didn't leave. Instead, his eyes shifted to the corner of the room— toward Ayla.

  She stood quietly, posture straight, expression calm. Ever since arriving at Village No.1 with Alaric, she had been quiet— but that didn't mean she wasn't watching or thinking.

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  On the contrary, she was observant, and her words always carried weight.

  Draven hadn't assigned her any tasks until now— not out of negligence, but because he was waiting for the right moment. And that moment had come.

  "Ayla, stay."

  Alaric froze, visibly uneasy, as if worried Draven might suddenly develop improper intentions toward his fiancée.

  But Draven just chuckled."Relax. I'm giving her an official position."

  He stood and walked over to Ayla, speaking seriously:"Starting today, you are the deputy chief of Village No.1."

  Ayla's eyes widened slightly, as if it took a moment for the words to sink in. A faint blush crept up her cheeks— whether from excitement or nervousness, it was unclear. She looked up at Draven, her eyes reflecting newfound respect— and just a hint of expectation she couldn't quite hide.

  "Help Bran. Keep him in check. If you notice anything off, write it down. I'll check in regularly. And if he dares ignore your advice, I'll personally deal with him."

  This wasn't just an appointment. Draven was sending a message to everyone: she's not just an ordinary fox girl— she's part of the Black Flag structure now.

  This role wasn't symbolic— it came with real power and responsibility.

  Ayla nodded solemnly, her voice steady and firm."Understood, Chief."

  After Bran confirmed the last squad leader appointments, Draven led Ayla out of the hall.

  The entire Village No.1 had gathered outside, everyone clearly aware that something significant was happening.

  Standing on higher ground, Draven scanned the crowd and then clearly announced Ayla's new role.

  Bran blinked, clearly still trying to figure out what exactly a"deputy chief" even meant.

  Alaric's face fell— this meant Ayla was completely riding roughshod over him.

  Ayla being appointed as deputy village chief meant exactly what he feared: she had always liked to boss people around, and now she had the official authority to do so.

  Draven smiled at him, and in Alaric's eyes, that smile looked downright sinister!

  It wasn't that Draven distrusted Alaric. In fact, Draven had always placed great hopes on him. But like Bran, Alaric was still too young. They needed to be tempered, to be tested— not raised to a high position from the start.

  Draven walked over and patted Alaric's shoulder, deliberately pressing down a little heavier to convey an unspoken pressure.

  The Fire Fox tribe was currently the only group in Black Flag Territory with genuine magical ability, and Alaric was one of the youngest with the purest bloodline.

  If Black Flag Territory wanted to develop into a truly powerful domain in the future, magical power would be indispensable. The burden on Alaric had been placed on him the moment he set foot in Black Flag Territory.

  But Alaric didn't know all this yet. He only felt that just as his happy life seemed to be starting, he was already being overshadowed by Ayla— that seemingly gentle but actually sharp and strong little fox.

  After the arrangements were done, Draven didn't leave immediately.

  He stood aside, watching Bran seriously assign tasks to each hunting team, plan hunting routes, and arrange supply logistics. Though this guy wasn't entirely reliable, his execution was passable.

  Once everything was set, Draven gave Bran a lesson in management like a teacher.

  He told him to focus more on managing the village.

  After saying that, he unexpectedly gave Bran a smack on the head— moderate strength, but the sound was crisp.

  "Keep it down tonight!"

  As soon as Draven rode off on the Nightmare Horse, Bran clutched his head, looking aggrieved, and kept complaining to the two wolf girls beside him.

  "I'm already this old and still just a village chief, but the leader hits me whenever he wants, without any respect!"

  One wolf girl rubbed his head, the other handed him water. Neither dared say much, only soothing him softly.

  In a corner of the big house, Ayla stood by the window without interrupting, but her eyes sharpened.

  She silently memorized every word Bran said, without emotion or judgment, calmly analyzing.

  Then she turned and began asking Bran about the allocation of stone and wood supplies.

  ...

  Meanwhile, Draven rode the Nightmare Horse swiftly through the air, returning to Village No. 2.

  He slowed down and looked down at the open area near the village entrance.

  The road construction there was in full swing.

  According to the route Martha had planned in advance, five treants were stationed in segments along their respective areas. They moved slowly but rhythmically. Whenever a treant stood before a tree, it would place its large palm on the trunk and mumble softly.

  The once dormant big trees seemed to awaken, trembling their branches lightly, then slowly moving their roots. The roots were pulled from the soil and, guided by the treants, they gradually walked to their new positions.

  The whole process looked like a magical ritual. The big trees didn't resist but rather cooperated.

  After the big trees moved, the female slaves followed behind to clear the small trees and weeds. They wielded axes and sickles, sweating profusely in the busy scene.

  Behind them was Liliana, transformed into a giant bear.

  Liliana yawned as she walked lazily. But whenever the female slaves cleared a patch of ground, she would crawl over on all fours and use her bear paws to simply push the soil flat, moving protruding stones one by one to the roadside.

  Though half-hearted, it was still somewhat attentive.

  Draven hovered in the air for a moment, a smile playing at his lips.

  Building this road wasn't particularly significant. Black Flag Territory hadn't expanded enough to require villages to be interconnected.

  But he also knew Viola's female slaves were too many; they needed daily work assignments or else trouble would arise. This road was more of a way to expend labor.

  When the rainy season ended and the soil dried, it would be time for the short-horned demon cattle to come into play.

  If Liliana could command those demon cattle and control their strength well, they would be natural rollers— efficient and also a good training opportunity for her communication with beasts.

  Watching the construction site gradually take shape, Draven began pondering a new problem: transportation.

  Currently, Black Flag Territory mainly used ordinary mounts, but their speed was slow and load capacity poor, unable to keep up with development in the long run.

  Magical beasts were the first choice, exotic beasts the backup.

  But regardless, for Black Flag Territory lacking foundation, they were a luxury.

  Draven guided the Nightmare Horse to land on the city wall and silently thought it over.