Once you start talking about the past, it's hard to stop.

  Draven's topic drifted further and further, and time slipped away unnoticed. Yet Viola showed no impatience; she kept a gentle smile, listening quietly.

  She was an excellent listener. Even the trivial and fragmented bits caught her full attention, and she nodded occasionally, as if recalling some familiar scene.

  By contrast, Liliana was completely different. From start to finish, she chirped non-stop, even more talkative than Draven. Many times, just as the conversation began to focus on serious matters, she would immediately steer the topic off track.

  "You're clearly living such a miserable life, why don't you find an affluent woman?" she suddenly blurted out, nearly choking Draven.

  "If I knew an affluent woman, would I still be living miserably?" Liliana shrugged, acting as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  Draven's face was full of question marks."Where on earth did you learn the term‘affluent woman'?"

  Viola said,"Wasn't it you who taught her?"

  Indeed, every time he mentioned Selene, he would inevitably add"affluent woman" after it. Over time, Liliana had memorized the phrase firmly.

  Selene, who had just finished handling some affairs, casually asked,"Where are they?"

  No sooner had she spoken than a dark guard stepped out of the shadows, responding cautiously,"They're still wandering the streets."

  Selene raised an eyebrow."Did I ask you?"

  The guard immediately fell silent and quietly retreated back into the darkness.

  After they had visited a few places, night fell. Liliana finally shouted loudly,"I'm hungry! I want to eat!"

  Draven said,"Then let's eat."

  Angelica and the others were busy at their stalls at that moment, while Rurik stayed home to keep watch. When Draven returned with Viola and the others, he saw Rurik busy preparing dinner in the kitchen.

  Draven waved his hand."Stop working. Tonight, I'll take you all out to eat."

  But before that, he planned to give Rurik a surprise.

  He went to the pile of animal skins and suddenly grabbed the Eyebrow-Patterned King Serpent lying there.

  The snake lazily opened its mouth, and from its black, cavernous maw, it spat out a wet, feathered magic hawk about the size of a hen, which thudded heavily onto the stone floor of the hut.

  With the task done, the Eyebrow-Patterned King Serpent slithered back into the pile of skins, motionless, pretending to sleep.

  Rurik was stunned, looking at the magic hawk on the floor with a puzzled expression.

  Draven casually slapped a scroll into his palm."What are you daydreaming about? Sign the contract."

  Rurik's eyes lit up instantly, overjoyed. He never imagined the magic hawk was specially prepared for him by the leader.

  This was a contract scroll usable by someone of warrior-level bloodline. Draven guided Rurik, channeling his own bloodline power into the scroll.

  As the scroll was torn open, silvery-white runes floated out like chains, suspended in the air. They lightly wrapped around the still-unconscious magic hawk.

  After a few seconds, the runes began to shimmer, then suddenly contracted tightly in what looked like a precise sealing ritual. Finally, all the runes were absorbed into the hawk's body, marking the completion of the contract.

  Stolen story; please report.

  "With this Pale-Horned Magic Hawk, it'll be much easier to keep in touch with you in the future," Draven said with a smile.

  Rurik wiped the slime off the hawk and nodded repeatedly. Although he had grown used to city life and had Angelica and the others around, he always felt something was missing— like the safety and belonging that came with having the leader nearby.

  Now, with this magic hawk of his own, he could contact the leader anytime, without having to wait expectantly for Draven to come.

  Draven had long chosen this magic hawk. When inspecting the magical beast harvest that day, he spotted it at first glance.

  The Pale-Horned Magic Hawk's feathers were shiny gray-black, similar in color to a sparrow from afar. It didn't really have horns— just two feather crests where the head met the neck. When startled or threatened, these feather crests would instantly stand upright, looking like horns.

  Though its claws were sharp enough to hunt small creatures, Draven valued more its flying speed and sense of direction.

  While it couldn't carry a rider, it was more than capable of delivering messages. On their return trip, they would bring it along to follow the territory from above, releasing it into the sky. Next time, it could fly back alone and deliver messages to Rurik.

  This idea actually came from Draven's experience with Sylvia's icehawk. That icehawk was so well-trained it seemed almost consciously loyal.

  Just as he was clearing the canyon, he happened to catch this Pale-Horned Magic Hawk and decided to assign one to Rurik.

  Soon the magic hawk woke up, twisting its neck and wobbling as it accepted the contract. It didn't struggle but stood quietly while Rurik's large hand stroked its feathers.

  Seeing Rurik's excited face, Draven felt happy for him. They were brothers; he didn't want anyone left behind or lost.

  Since he had prepared a Pale-Horned Magic Hawk for Rurik, he naturally hadn't forgotten Bran. While at the succubus trade house, he had picked many contract scrolls, and Bran's was already ready.

  After Rurik had finished petting the hawk and his joy had settled somewhat, Draven led the group out the door.

  Rurik was in a particularly good mood after getting the magical beast. Watching the leader and the others, he followed them into the Public House.

  Outside the Public House hung a snow-white bull skull, clearly bearing the style of the demi-human tribe.

  Rurik stood outside the Bull Head Tavern, muttering to himself: They clearly agreed not to cause trouble with the minotaurs, so why did the leader change his mind?

  It wasn't worth offending the minotaurs just for that ratfolk blacksmith. And now add a Public House into the mix?

  Previously, Rurik had scoped out several places, all personally inspected by Draven. The locations weren't bad per se, just not quite ideal yet.

  Coincidentally, when passing by this Bull Head Public House before, Draven got an idea and decided to kill two birds with one stone.

  He used Gold Manipulation to craft a mask, concealing his aura, and strode into the Public House— at this moment, he was only a low-rank bloodline warrior-level Black Werewolf.

  Liliana obediently used her mask to transform into a little catgirl, combined with Viola, who was a firefox.

  Once inside the tavern, they immediately became the center of attention. Viola was only a bloodline warrior-level, and Liliana's mask concealed her aura well.

  Unless a fight broke out, no one would believe this adorable little catgirl was actually a leader-level druid.

  That was exactly the effect Draven wanted. He led them to a table and, seeing the Public House offered grilled fish, ordered a portion along with three cups of cheap bloodwine.

  Demi-humans had big appetites; one grilled fish barely sufficed for one person, plus the worst bloodwine available. The surrounding demi-humans cast disdainful looks their way, especially toward the Black Werewolf, whose gaze was met with particular contempt.

  In contrast, the looks fixed on Viola and Liliana were more intense. Viola clearly disliked the atmosphere, instinctively leaning closer to the werewolf leader.

  Her fragile appearance made the drunks' eyes gleam.

  As for the little catgirl Liliana, usually carefree and casual, swinging her legs on the stool with an innocent and carefree expression—

  Which rough man wouldn't feel a bit softened inside?

  The little catgirl was even more charming than they had imagined.

  In a corner, a hooded demi-human sneered quietly,"How dare he bring these two beauties into the Bull Head Tavern."

  All the demi-humans tacitly assumed the Black Werewolf must be a novice.

  If it weren't for the high-rank bloodline aura of the firefox woman making them wary, someone would have lost their patience and caused trouble already.

  Draven's half-hidden face under the mask meant he didn't have to worry about being recognized.

  He used to come here occasionally; otherwise, he wouldn't bother wearing that thing.

  He picked up a piece of fish meat and put it into his mouth. The meat was tough, the fishy smell hadn't dissipated. He frowned but swallowed it anyway, knowing food was scarce.

  Liliana didn't have such patience. She threw down her fork and complained,"This tastes awful!"

  Draven gently waved her off, signaling her to stop making a fuss. He was waiting— waiting for the real fish to take the bait.

  Soon, a tall minotaur staggered over holding a horn cup, clearly drunk.

  "I've got something tasty!" Moreau hiccupped, his eyes fixed on the catgirl, full of greedy light.