After dinner, Liliana clearly had no intention of leaving. She sat on the small stone bench in front of the house, her eyes fixed on Draven in the firelight, wearing a half-smile, as if waiting for him to say something—or maybe she was just clinging on, not wanting to go.

  Draven felt a jolt in his chest. It wasn't that he disliked the elven girl—far from it—but he had other plans tonight.

  He quickly put on his practiced smile, spoke to her gently in a coaxing tone, and slipped a few candies into her hand.

  Liliana pouted, looking extremely unwilling as she got to her feet. Before leaving, she shot Draven a glare that could have cut stone.

  As soon as the door closed, Draven let out a long sigh of relief, as if he had escaped a blazing inferno. He wiped the nonexistent sweat from his brow.

  Meanwhile, Liliana stormed back to her small stone cottage in the village, fuming. She slammed the door without a word, threw herself onto the bed, curled up into a tight ball, and sulked.

  Sylvia followed her in at a leisurely pace, wearing a bemused, teasing smile.

  "I thought you said you were his woman too," she said playfully."Why are you squeezing into my room again?"

  Liliana rolled her eyes, face burning red, and turned her head away without responding.

  Sylvia was usually cool and composed, but tonight she seemed to have discovered a mischievous streak. She kept poking fun at Liliana with playful jabs—sometimes a subtle chuckle, sometimes murmuring ambiguous remarks near her ear.

  Eventually, Liliana couldn't take it anymore. The two girls started wrestling on the narrow bed.

  The room was small, the bed even smaller. Soon they tumbled onto the mattress, limbs tangled, each holding down the other's arms, panting and laughing.

  But then, a familiar singing voice floated over from the neighboring room. It was Viola.

  Her voice was soft and clear, like a night breeze rippling across a lake, laced with just a hint of smugness and bliss.

  She sang every night, but tonight's melody was especially tender. The lingering notes felt like a gentle boast—or perhaps a deliberate test of someone's patience.

  Liliana and Sylvia froze. They looked at each other and silently let go.

  "How boring," Sylvia muttered, plopping back into her chair.

  Liliana sat up too, letting out a soft, dissatisfied hum, but said nothing more.

  On the other side of the wall, Draven's battle was just beginning. He was more intense than usual, as if compensating for something.

  Viola resisted at first, but she had no chance against Draven's relentless assault. He was like a wild wolf, fierce and untamed, leaving no room for retreat. Before long, she was overwhelmed, left with no option but to surrender and follow his rhythm.

  Soon, she couldn't even form words—just breathy gasps in response. A long while later, the battle finally ended.

  Viola lay limp against Draven's chest, her tail gently curled around his waist, a serene and satisfied smile on her lips. With her eyes closed, she could hear the strong, steady beat of his heart—like a silent promise made just for her.

  Of course, she cared about what had happened today. She knew everything. But right now, her heart was at peace. Because she knew—as long as she lived in this man's heart, that was enough.

  Afterward, the two talked as usual about village matters. Draven mentioned something he'd heard over dinner—that the cassava they planted had started to sprout.

  "Looks like it's working. Growing slowly, but at least it's alive."

  "That's wonderful," Viola perked up."We could try expanding the field. Summer's long and sunny—it's perfect."

  "Exactly what I was thinking," Draven nodded."Even if we fail, no big deal—we can just try again earlier next year."

  "But we're short on hands," Viola frowned."You can't expect all those old folks to do farm work."

  Draven spread his hands."What choice do I have? The village has fewer than a hundred people, and most of them are either kids or elderly."

  "If only we had more people," Viola sighed.

  "I've actually been thinking about something," Draven said as he pulled her close, a flicker of excitement in his eyes."What if we issue some sort of currency—something to trade with other villages? We could use our goods to attract people to come live here."

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Currency?" Viola sat up straight, eyes wide."Like shell money?"

  "Something like that," Draven nodded."But we'd use metal tokens, or marked wooden chips. As long as everyone agrees on its value, it could circulate."

  Viola blinked in delight, her voice rising with excitement."Do you think it'll work?"

  "Who knows?" Draven smiled and shook his head, but his gaze was firm."Someone has to try first."

  Viola thought for a moment, then nodded. She suddenly realized that with this man, even the wildest ideas seemed possible.

  She rested her head gently against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. The night was soft, the fire still glowing.

  With her eyes closed, she whispered,"We're going to make it."

  Draven didn't reply. His gaze was fixed on the stars outside the window, already planning the next step.

  In the days that followed, Draven took Liliana with him to dig ponds for the other two villages, one by one.

  Right next to Village No. 1 was a clear, gently flowing stream, steady and reliable.

  This brought Draven a great sense of relief. The pond construction required no complex engineering or additional water diversion. He simply had Liliana dig a wide, shallow basin near the stream, following his instructions.

  The stream water would naturally flow into the depression, slowly filling it without the need for buckets or manual transport. As long as the pond bottom didn't leak, this place would serve as a stable water source.

  Once the water level rose, villagers could fetch water directly from here, and they might even raise fish. Draven had already sketched out a simple design for fish traps in his mind—he planned to ask the villagers to weave a few and try them out.

  In contrast, Village No. 3 wasn't nearly as convenient.

  Originally designed as a military camp, the village was built on a steep hillside. Back then, no one had considered irrigation—only the strategic advantage of difficult terrain.

  Now, with agriculture in mind, the sloped land was a nightmare. Forget building a pond—it was hard enough just to find flat ground for planting.

  So Draven decided to move the pond downhill. He personally selected a site a bit farther from the village. Though it was a ten-minute walk away, there was a narrow stream nearby.

  The location wasn't ideal, but at least it had water.

  "The village will expand one day," Draven muttered to himself."It's better to plan early."

  The snakefolk had no objections. They were strong and fast—walking a few extra trips was no big deal. Getting fresh fish and clean water in exchange was well worth it.

  Besides, almost every snakefolk could swim. They were naturally suited for aquatic environments; some could even stay submerged for dozens of minutes without surfacing.

  Fishing was easy and enjoyable for them. Watching Gregor cast the net, Draven almost felt like giving him a prize.

  "These guys were born for ponds," Draven couldn't help but sigh.

  He found a few old fishing nets in storage and handed them to Gregor."You divide them as you like. I don't care how you fish—just catch what you can."

  Gregor nodded and immediately led several snakefolk to get to work.

  The rainy season was fast approaching. When that came, hunting would become extremely difficult—wild animals were hard to find, and many hid in their dens.

  In past years, villagers had to rely almost entirely on dried cassava during this period. The dry, coarse taste made Draven nauseous just thinking about it.

  "We've got to let people eat something fresh." That was a thought that had never left his mind.

  Meanwhile, work had begun on the orchard as well. Draven had Liliana dig a large pit beside it—he wanted to test out his idea for compost.

  "Throw in weeds, dead leaves, water it, then bury it with soil. Once it decomposes, we'll see if it works as fertilizer."

  He knew it sounded primitive, even a little dumb, but it was the most reliable method he could come up with. Better than doing nothing at all. He even brought all five treants to Village No. 3 for this.

  These treants cared more about plants than most humans. Led by Acorn Oak, they not only had to scout the wild for suitable fruit trees but also transplant them, water them, nurture them, and fertilize them.

  When Draven shared his compost idea, the treants showed great interest. They immediately gathered around the pit to examine it.

  "Decomposition is a form of energy release," Acorn Oak said as he pulled out a sample of weeds."We'll give it a try."

  Draven had no better plan and could only let them experiment. Everything had to be solved through trial and error.

  Over in Village No. 2, the pond situation was also looking good. After excavation, the water level had been steadily rising. Though not quickly, after a full day and night, it had reached about half a meter from the ground—enough for basic irrigation and small-scale aquaculture.

  Draven decided to place the cassava cutting trial field right beside the pond. The terrain there was flat, the soil loose, and water was conveniently nearby—saving a lot of trouble.

  With Liliana's help, the ground was quickly tilled. They stuck the pre-cut cassava stems into the soil one by one, evenly spaced.

  At first, the villagers were nervous—no one had ever grown this crop before. But Draven encouraged them:"Don't worry. It doesn't have to be perfect. This is just a trial."

  He would ensure water and fertilizer. Whether the cassava would survive, and if it did, whether it would bear fruit—that was up to fate.

  It might have looked like a bunch of scattered little projects, but to Draven, this was the first true attempt at agricultural planning in Black Flag Territory.

  It wasn't just about having enough to eat—it was about giving people a better life.

  Once the cassava fields, orchards, and ponds stabilized, he could begin to phase out reliance on hunting. That would free up villagers to pursue other work—or even form a full-time army.

  "A real army," Draven murmured to himself."Trained, disciplined. Ready for battle, and capable of defending its own."

  He stood beside the pond, watching the sunlight dance across the rippling surface. A deep sense of satisfaction welled up inside him. This was his land, a foundation built with his own hands. He knew it was only the beginning—but it was the most critical step.

  Meanwhile, far away in Selene City, changes were quietly unfolding.

  Rurik stood in the plaza outside the lord's manor, staring at a new notice posted on the stone wall, his face full of confusion. He wasn't the only one—many beastkin gathered around the notice looked equally baffled.

  The announcement read:

  "Effective immediately, a unified currency system will be implemented, adopting'meters','pounds', and'liters' as standard units corresponding to length, weight, and volume."