Although the support given by the Succubus Lord was never unconditional, and behind those resources and opportunities there were always demands and costs, none of that mattered to Draven now. Because he desperately needed them.

  After wandering for so many years, surviving countless escapes and battles, he finally had land of his own, along with the materials and manpower needed to build a settlement.

  To him, it felt like a blessing — and that gratitude welled up sincerely in his heart.

  He stood there, his eyes betraying an emotion he tried hard to hide, a scene Selene saw clearly.

  Selene did not mock him. As the Succubus Lord, she was long used to seeing newly recognized leaders display all kinds of emotions — joy, excitement, even humble gratitude.

  She had seen them all. Yet every time she witnessed such moments, a strange sense of satisfaction stirred within her.

  Not because of their submission, but because she knew it was she who had changed their fate.

  She was not a lord who ruled by brute force. Instead, she governed this land through strategy, rules, and exchange.

  She cared little about bloodlines or origins, focusing solely on results and capability. It was she who gave these marginalized races a new chance, and with coldness and wisdom, she had built all of Selene City from chaos.

  "There will be a statue among the distributed supplies," she said slowly, her voice still soft yet full of authority. "Do you know its meaning and purpose?"

  She did not expect a newly awakened bloodline werewolf of humble origin to fully grasp its significance, but she asked nonetheless.

  The intelligence had made it clear: Draven's foundation was weak, and he might not understand some basic rules.

  Draven immediately composed himself and nodded in response. "I know the meaning of that statue. I will place it properly according to the territory's regulations."

  His words were straightforward, neither arrogant nor servile. Selene smiled slightly upon hearing this. She nodded with satisfaction and turned to leave the great hall.

  At the door, she suddenly stopped, looked back at Draven with a hint of regret and complexity in her eyes: "Actually, I wish you could stay here. Remember, if one day you find you can't hold on, this place will always welcome you back."

  After saying this, she didn't linger. Her figure gradually faded in the interplay of light and shadow. She walked slowly, but every step was full of confidence and charm. That tall, slender figure and graceful posture were the signature allure of the Succubus race.

  Draven watched her retreating back, his throat twitching as he swallowed.

  What stirred in his heart was not just emotion, but a more primal thought: this woman was not only intelligent but truly enchanting.

  He sighed softly, his gaze still following her departing form before finally shaking his head and turning away.

  ...

  When he returned to the stone hut, carrying the heavy great axe, two tribesmen immediately surrounded him as soon as he stepped inside.

  Bran's eyes lit up, as if seeing a treasure. He took the axe from Draven's hands, fondling the handle affectionately, even trying to swing it a few times.

  Rurik moved to the other side, holding the beastskin documents, slave scroll, and supply token, his face full of excitement.

  They chattered like children with new toys, constantly asking Draven questions.

  Draven didn't stop their excitement. In fact, he felt the same thrill inside, only more restrained.

  When their emotions had somewhat calmed, he began arranging what to do next.

  Building a village was no small task. Especially for a team of just three with nothing but their bare hands, it was harder than fighting a war. No experience, no support — they had to figure everything out bit by bit.

  Luckily, this wasn't the first time they'd discussed these matters. Over their years of wandering, they had countless times imagined what to do if they ever had land — how to divide it, build on it, defend it, and survive.

  Now that the time had come, they felt surprisingly calm.

  With the documents in hand, they had legal territory; the slave scroll and supply token didn't need to be used immediately, since the stone hut couldn't hold much. They had to prepare basic infrastructure first before bringing in people and supplies.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The most important thing now was to convert all the resources they'd saved over the years into things truly useful for building.

  The three began packing. Their belongings were few. The large bundles contained the furs and bones stripped from beasts over the years; smaller bags held the truly valuable items — several magic cores and a few potions.

  They had counted, classified, and estimated the value of these many times. They knew exactly what each item could be traded for.

  Though the furs and bones were low-grade, they had enough volume to exchange for decent tools and basic weapons. Their goal was clear: spearheads, arrowheads, axes, shovels, iron pots, and cooking utensils.

  For these goods, the most reliable in Selene City was the Dwarf blacksmith Edric. Though his forge was dirty and messy, the quality was good and the prices fair.

  When the three arrived at the smithy carrying their packs, Edric was smoking a pipe, dunking finished iron heads into water as steam hissed.

  Draven set down the packs, spreading out the furs and bones on the ground piece by piece.

  Edric stroked his beard, looked over them, and grinned: "The few things you wanted are already ready. I put them in the back shed — come get them whenever you want."

  They had already come several times over the past few days to inquire about prices and gather information. Edric was quite familiar with them by now and naturally wouldn't go back on their deal. Both sides quickly finalized the details of the transaction.

  When they left the blacksmith's shop happily, the large bags on their backs were already empty.

  Next, there was only the small pouch left, which contained magic cores and potions. Though few in number, these were hard currency.

  Draven and the others had really tightened their belts over the past few years, carefully budgeting even for a full meal.

  They had long understood one thing: without supplies, nothing could be accomplished. No matter how precious magic cores and potions were, they couldn't fill an empty stomach.

  Now that they finally had the chance to exchange these items for the most practical provisions, they naturally had no intention of keeping any.

  "All the magic cores and herbs will be exchanged for jerky and grain, nothing left behind!" Draven said firmly to his companions.

  Without food, everything else was just empty talk. Strength was important, but no matter how strong the body, it would collapse without nourishment.

  Only those who have truly gone hungry understand what it means to have food in hand and a calm heart. And they had been hungry for far too long.

  In Selene City, if you wanted to buy food, the only option was the lord's manor. Ordinary merchants had barely any stock, and demi-humans were naturally poor at farming, relying on hunting and raiding to survive.

  Even the powerful tribes could hardly claim they had surplus grain, let alone sell any.

  But this was not Draven's immediate concern. Since Lord Selene was willing to support them, arrangements for supplies were naturally in place.

  With the magic cores and potions in hand, they smoothly completed the transaction with the steward of the lord's manor.

  The steward was an old beastman with a pale face but sharp eyes, exuding an undeniable aura of authority. He glanced at the goods in Draven's hands, gave a brief inspection, and then quoted a price.

  The negotiation took little effort; both sides knew what they needed and didn't want to waste time.

  In the end, they exchanged for enough provisions to feed 200 people for half a year: hard bread, dried meat, salted fish, pickled vegetables, and a small amount of nuts and hard cheese.

  Draven breathed a sigh of relief. With half of the food supplemented by the lord, their stockpile was enough to sustain 200 people for a full year.

  In fact, their current tribe numbered far fewer than 200. This meant that even if unexpected troubles came in the next few months, they wouldn't immediately face famine.

  But this was only the beginning. He knew the real challenge was how to safely bring these people and supplies to the new land.

  According to the maps attached to the documents, the land granted by the lord was in a good location, about half a month's journey from Selene City, roughly in the central part of the lord's controlled territory.

  In theory, such a location would be popular—rich in resources and relatively safe. But the problem was, they were only three people tasked with escorting one hundred slaves through forests, hills, swamps, and potentially encountering roaming monsters or bandits.

  "This journey won't be easy," Bran said, frowning.

  "But we have no other choice," Draven answered calmly.

  They did not go to collect the slaves and supplies immediately, instead returning to the stone house. The three sat around the rough stone table and spread out the collected maps one by one.

  The maps were drawn on beast hides, edges curled and some even singed, clearly pieced together over many years.

  The largest and most complete beast hide map in the center was their main map, depicting the general outline of the succubus territory—forests, mountains, valleys, swamps, and the names of some important towns.

  Draven carefully took out the official map attached to the documents and laid it beside the main map. This official map was more refined but contained very limited information, marking only their assigned land and the location of Selene City.

  He took a sharpened charcoal pencil and gently marked the position of their territory on the main map.

  "Right here, a bit to the north," he said, circling a small dot on the map.

  Rurik and Bran leaned in, their expressions turning serious. Though they usually joked around, at critical moments like this, they never took things lightly.

  Over the past few years, they hadn't just been stockpiling supplies but also gathering intelligence—scouting routes, factions, terrain—and had long been accustomed to treating this information as a weapon for survival.

  "The route has to be chosen carefully. We are few in number, so we must avoid possible habitats of large monsters," Rurik whispered.

  "And we should stay close to small water sources. We can't carry much water," Bran added.

  Draven nodded, "We must be especially careful when crossing this mountain range. It's said dragons once lived here. No reports of them now, but it's best not to take risks."

  They marked that mountain range with a red line on the map and drew a detour route beneath it. Although it would take two extra days, they all agreed it was worth it.

  "This route isn't fast, but it's relatively safe," Draven concluded.

  "Agreed," the other two said in unison.

  The three spent most of the night planning the route in detail. Finally, they unanimously decided that after collecting the slaves and supplies early the next morning, they would set off immediately without delay. They knew that every day's delay meant another day of risk.