He truly hadn't expected Draven to place such trust in them, the Rhinoceros Men.
Two hundred hunter slaves, two hundred female slaves—and yet only one warrior with Fire Fox bloodline was sent to accompany them. The other? Just an unawakened deputy village chief.
But Sethric didn't look down on them because of that.
Draven had shown him great kindness in the Black Flag Territory, so of course he would return it with equal courtesy—especially after hearing that Black Flag Territory had already established three villages. Each one had a leader-level figure overseeing it, which was no small feat.
He personally led them on a tour of Village No. 1. After witnessing the ferocity of the Gold-Devouring Demon Ants, Sethric's attitude changed.
The demi-human tribes revered strength. A powerful and reliable ally was something countless small tribes dreamed of. Sethric began to seriously reconsider the nature of his relationship with Black Flag Territory.
He no longer clung to the previous agreement that forbade outsiders from approaching within five kilometers of the village. Instead, he arranged accommodations for Alaric and the others himself, even personally joining them on hunts.
Though Sethric was a mid-tier chieftain, he didn't care about status differences. He took the initiative to act as a guide for Alaric, the bloodline warrior.
Alaric's face was written with pride. He knew full well that his brother-in-law could be a bit scheming, but the man's abilities were undeniably real.
Thinking back to Draven's instructions before they left, Alaric's gaze toward Sethric grew even friendlier.
The Rhinoceros Men's village was much more spacious, easily accommodating Alaric and his party. In contrast, Village No. 1 felt a bit cramped. Aside from the village chief's large house and a few latrines, all the other buildings had been converted into drying rooms by the Viola.
At that moment, Big Bear and his men were busy hauling in thick logs to dry, so naturally they had no space to house the Rhinoceros Men.
Fortunately, they had prepared in advance. Draven had already instructed Bran to organize teams to gather stone materials.
The stones had been collected. Rhinoceros Man Griffin held a construction blueprint drawn on animal hide in his hand. It was sketched by the werewolf chieftain. As he studied the rows of long, rectangular building designs, Griffin furrowed his brows and scratched his head.
He couldn't understand why the buildings had to be so long.
But he dared not question it. The order had already been given, and Black Flag Territory had brought them food. If you're fed, you work. He didn't need to understand the rationale behind the blueprint—he just had to follow it.
So he shouted to his clansmen and began digging foundations at the edge of the village.
Draven had already marked out the building locations. Apart from a few standalone structures, the rest would be neat rows of two-story dormitories.
Each floor would have ten rooms, ten rows in total—two hundred rooms altogether. In addition, there would be five small two-story buildings. This was the first stage of construction that the Rhinoceros Men had to complete.
Since the ground was soft during the rainy season, they couldn't build directly on it, so they began with foundations. The stone came from the cliffs beside the village.
Under Martha's command, a group of Gold-Devouring Demon Ants were gnawing at the cliff face in unison, producing rhythmic crunching sounds.
Their mandibles were sharp as blades, slicing out massive blocks of stone with uncanny precision—like carving neat rectangular slices from a cake with a box cutter.
Once a full block of stone was freed from the cliff, the Rhinoceros Men would step in and haul it out.
Thanks to their brute strength and the carts invented by the werewolf chieftain, each Rhinoceros Man could haul five massive stone blocks at once.
The carts had wheels made entirely of metal. With no rubber, pulling them was extremely strenuous. Other demi-human tribes wouldn't even be able to budge these things.
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Standing off to the side, Draven watched them struggle with the carts and couldn't help but shake his head and smile wryly. He knew very well that this transport method was far from efficient.
But Martha, on the other hand, thought the invention was brilliant.
The emptied-out sections of the cliff where they extracted stone could later be used as dwellings! Simply brick up the entrance, leave space for a door, and you'd have a solid stone house.
Several such homes had already been completed.
The weeds and shrubs in the canyon had long since been cleared. With Gold-Devouring Demon Ants patrolling the area, there was little danger even without a stone wall erected.
In truth, Draven had planned all of this long in advance.
He wasn't just making empty claims about building villages and fortresses. He had long anticipated the labor shortage and considered where to source materials.
That's why he chose these cliffs on either side. The quality of the stone was decent, and the site was easy to mine.
After the weathered surface layer was removed, the exposed rock underneath proved to be solid and durable—an ideal material for building city walls. While extracting the stone, they could also conveniently dig out caves to serve as dwellings.
And it wasn't just the area near the village. In fact, both sides of the entire canyon had already been included in Draven's grand plan.
Constructing a city wall would require an enormous amount of stone. If one layer wasn't enough, he even intended to build stairways to dig a second layer higher up.
Once the city wall was complete, the excavated caves could be turned into barracks or storage rooms. By then, both defense and logistics would be covered. Of course, this wasn't something that could be completed overnight—but the direction was already clear.
Now that the Rhinoceros Men had arrived, there was no need to let them leave so easily. They were destined to become the Black Flag Territory's most reliable labor force.
Around noon, Draven gave a nod, signaling it was time for a meal.
Not long after, Bran came over holding a rough ceramic bowl filled to the brim with stewed beast meat. Grinning mischievously, he swayed his head as he clinked the edge of his bowl and walked up to Rhinoceros Man Griffin.
He glanced into Griffin's bowl—a thin, gluey cassava porridge, sticky and bland. Bran chuckled, then generously picked out a steaming piece of meat from his own bowl and dropped it into Griffin's.
Griffin froze for a second, then broke into a shy, honest smile. He quietly murmured thanks, eyes flickering with a bit of envy.
Draven had indeed promised food, but he hadn't said every meal would come with meat.
The cassava porridge was tasteless, but filling—enough to sustain the Rhinoceros Men. Still, when they saw the slaves from Black Flag Territory occasionally scoop up chunks of meat from their cauldrons, they couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.
But everyone knew the rules. No one caused trouble. After all, the food allocations had been agreed upon by both leaders, and every bite was accounted for. The fact that Black Flag Territory was even willing to share meat already showed great generosity.
At that moment, Bran added another piece of meat to Griffin's bowl and patted him on the shoulder with a smile.
The small trace of resentment in Griffin's eyes immediately melted under such kindness. He smiled again—but this time, it was more genuine than before.
Meanwhile, back in the Rhinoceros Men's village, lunch preparations were underway.
Alaric and his team were out hunting and wouldn't return for the meal. Ayla was leading the female slaves in charge of cooking. A row of large cauldrons bubbled with chunks of cassava.
Carrying a small cloth bag, Ayla went to each pot and sprinkled in a small handful of chopped dried meat. Though there wasn't much, the aroma of meat soon overpowered the bland scent of cassava.
The Rhinoceros Men's stomachs began to growl as they caught the scent. But they knew these provisions—and the meat—had been brought by Black Flag Territory. They weren't part of the Rhinoceros Men's own stores and couldn't be touched at will.
Their chieftain had also emphasized: guests from Black Flag Territory were not to be bullied—no matter if they were warriors or slaves.
Inside the chieftain's large house, Sethric's wife Tina was fuming. Two kids, seven or eight years old, were running around inside as she chased after them, smacking them with loud slaps. They were her own children.
Even the chieftain's family rarely had the chance to eat meat. Every piece of dried meat could be life-saving in the harsh winter. Surviving on dried grass roots was far from realistic—meat was hope.
But the moment the two children smelled the aroma of meat outside, they started crying and demanding some. Tina couldn't tolerate it—how could they not get a beating for that?
Yet the little rascals were tough-skinned. Though she kept hitting them, they continued whining loudly,"Mama, I want meat!"
Just as she was about to lose her mind, Ayla walked in carrying a large bowl of freshly stewed meat.
Smiling warmly, she placed the steaming meat into Tina's hands and gently patted the horns on the two children's foreheads—her gesture as soft and soothing as a big sister calming her younger brothers.
Tina froze for a moment, sighed, and didn't say another word.
At that moment, Chieftain Sethric returned home carrying several plump rabbits. Lunchtime had already passed. He hadn't followed the hunting team all day. As a chieftain, his duty was to oversee the village. Even though he was a mid-tier warrior, that didn't mean he had to hunt every day himself.
Alaric, generous as ever, had noticed Sethric leaving and deliberately picked out a few of the fattest rabbits from their catch to give to him.
"These are for you," Alaric had said with a grin."Not part of the hunting share. Just a little extra."
Sethric, of course, wanted his children to have a taste of meat too, so he brought the rabbits home.
But the moment he pushed open the door, a rich meaty aroma hit him in the face. He paused, surprised to see his two children leaning against the table, staring eagerly at a big bowl of steaming beast meat in front of them—waiting, wide-eyed, for their father to return.

