Seeing this, Draven finally felt at ease. Judging by the current situation, the necromantic summoning spell provided by the Serpent Ancestor didn't show any abnormalities or trigger any danger.

  At least from the results, it had clearly worked. With a long exhale, he withdrew his consciousness and slowly opened his eyes.

  Outside the stone house came a blend of cheerful voices—girls laughing, shouting, and chattering with energy and excitement.

  Draven couldn't help but smile. From the tone of their voices, he could almost be certain—the pixies had been successfully summoned.

  He pushed open the door and stepped outside. Sure enough, a lively scene awaited him.

  Sylvia stood at the center of the courtyard, back in her catgirl form, hands tucked behind her back, rising slightly on her toes with her chin lifted—her expression practically begging for praise.

  Draven paused for a moment, a bit dazed by the sight. He walked over and gently placed his palm on her soft hair, secretly relishing the sensation. Her hair carried a faint scent of fresh grass.

  "Well done," Draven said.

  Sylvia's cheeks flushed red, and she instinctively ducked behind Viola.

  Draven cleared his throat, pretending to be nonchalant as he rubbed his nose—taking the opportunity to subtly sniff his hand. That scent really was something.

  "Alright, take me to see the results," he said, then took the lead toward the plantation behind the village.

  Viola cast a sidelong glance at Sylvia, her eyes filled with teasing amusement.

  Now she understood why Draven kept insisting she play the role of the elven princess. So this was the appearance he truly liked.

  Sylvia noticed Viola's look and blushed even harder, lowering her head in silence. She tried to avert her gaze, but Viola looped her arm through hers. "Come on, let's go check out the little pixies you summoned."

  Sylvia nodded and followed along. Liliana, who had been trailing behind, saw this and skipped over with a grin, linking arms with Viola's other side like a delighted child.

  "Now that you're a catgirl again, I like you even more this way!" Liliana said cheerfully.

  The three of them walked arm-in-arm, laughing as they went. But as they neared the plantation, Draven immediately sensed something was off.

  At first glance, it still looked like the same patch of land for growing magical herbs. But the magic lingering in the air had completely changed.

  A soft, vibrant energy floated around like an invisible mist. The closer he got, the stronger that presence became.

  "What's going on here?" Draven was stunned.

  Logically, the ritual last night had already boosted the magical concentration in Village No. 2, but this area... it was off the charts. It was as if a self-contained magical pool had been forcibly embedded into the village.

  He quickened his pace, approaching the field where the herbs were planted. And then he saw them.

  Seven or eight glowing orbs hovered above the plants, each about the size of a golf ball. Their colors varied—red, blue, yellow, white, and green, with green being the most common. They weren't densely packed, but they were brimming with energy.

  Some seemed to be guarding the land, while others flitted silently through the foliage, as light as the breeze.

  Draven froze for a moment, then turned to look at Sylvia. She met his gaze briefly before looking away, but gave a small nod.

  "So these are the pixies?" Draven murmured.

  He reached out, trying to touch the nearest orb. The orb reacted instantly, darting away with a flash, gracefully dodging his fingertips like a mischievous insect playing a game.

  Only then did he notice—inside the orb was a tiny creature. They had wings and looked insect-like, yet their glowing bodies resembled translucent glass sculptures.

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  As they zipped past his ear, he could hear faint squeaking noises, like whispers being exchanged.

  Draven couldn't help but chuckle. "Interesting."

  He closed his eyes and reached out with his spiritual sense. Each time the pixies passed over an area, the magical energy there increased slightly. The effect wasn't dramatic per instance, but with enough pixies and time, the impact would be enormous.

  And the growth of magical herbs was directly tied to the ambient magic.

  "This time, Sylvia really made a huge contribution," he said suddenly, turning to face her with a serious expression.

  Sylvia seemed flustered by his direct gaze. She gave a soft "mm" and stared at the ground, as if the stones at her feet were far more interesting than Draven himself.

  Draven suppressed a laugh. He didn't say anything more, nor did he take the chance to touch her again.

  After seeing the pixies, he led them back to the chieftain hall in the center of the village.

  The place was still buzzing with activity. The bonfire was still burning, and the air was filled with laughter, singing, and the clinking of mugs.

  The aromas of roasted meat and wine wafted through the air. It felt as though the entire village was immersed in a genuine, heartwarming joy.

  The ordinary villagers and slaves didn't notice the shift in the village's magical aura. Their attention was fully absorbed by the bonfire, the wine, and the roasted meat. For them, being well-fed and drunk was more than enough to bring joy.

  But Draven knew exactly what had happened. He had personally smeared his blood on the forehead and lips of Selene's statue. In that moment, he had felt the flow of energy. The faith aura of Village No. 2 had quietly entered its second stage.

  This wasn't just about gathering magical power—it now had a warning function as well.

  No matter where Draven was, he would instantly sense danger the moment the village came under attack. Even the slightest fluctuation wouldn't escape this faith network's detection.

  By comparison, the aura system of Village No. 1 was still in its infancy. It didn't even have basic sensory extension capabilities.

  After the ceremony, Bran stood before the statue, slightly dazed as he looked at the stone figure. He felt like the statue had grown a little larger again.

  The change was small, but visible to the naked eye. And this wasn't the first time it had happened. Remembering past experiences, he simply clicked his tongue and said nothing.

  Instead, he grinned, patted Alaric on the shoulder, and dragged him off to drink more.

  "We didn't work in vain," Bran said with a wide grin.

  Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, in Selene City, a much grander ceremony had just come to an end.

  The entire city was bathed in light. Torches and candles hung on both sides of the streets. A temporary stage had been set up in the square, and the air was thick with the pungent mix of spices and alcohol. As tradition dictated, the night would be filled with unending revelry.

  Outside the Black Flag Tavern, guests had formed a circle, arriving in waves to get their drinks.

  Behind the counter, Angelica and her companion Katia were dressed in revealing bunny-girl outfits. They shouted loudly, handing out frothing cups of blood wine and monkey liquor to eager customers.

  "One more round!" shouted a werewolf customer, swaying, his eyes bloodshot.

  Angelica smiled and handed over a large cup of blood wine, sneaking in a small bowl of spicy pickled mushrooms.

  "Buy a drink, get mushrooms free~ They're tangy and refreshing, perfect with alcohol!" Her voice rang out bright and clear, cutting through the roar of the crowd in the square.

  In a corner not far away, Rurik crouched, carefully cleaning horn mugs and wooden bowls. He didn't join the fun, but his eyes never strayed far from the two hardworking bunny girls.

  Their hair was damp with sweat, clinging to their necks and cheeks. Yet they kept smiling, never stopping. Each drink they sold brought a little more light to their eyes.

  "Real treasures, those two," Rurik muttered under his breath. "Work by day, charm by night."

  He couldn't help but smile, his gaze as warm as if he were watching two flickering flames.

  Suddenly, Angelica reached out to wipe the sweat from Katia's brow. Katia paused for a moment, then returned a gentle smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Angelica's ear. The two exchanged a glance and smiled.

  They both understood that this life, though tiring, was far better than what came before. The tavern was lighter work, sure, but it came with strings attached. Now, they had freedom—and income.

  "Blood wine and monkey liquor! Free chilled mushrooms! Crunchy and refreshing! Don't miss out!"

  As she shouted, Angelica waved her hand. The red lanterns hanging from the sides of the stall swayed gently. Rurik had made those lanterns just for them, and from afar, they looked like two burning flames.

  On the steps of the Lord's Hall, Freya stood silently. Her gaze had also been drawn to the tavern.

  The stall wasn't big, but it had gathered quite the crowd, the atmosphere lively. She squinted, noticing the two bunny girls in bright costumes, smiling radiantly as they served the customers.

  Freya asked softly, "Lady Selene, are they too noisy for your liking? Shall I have someone remove them?"

  She frowned in slight displeasure—those two smiling faces were too eye-catching.

  "Let them be. Isn't it nice?" Selene replied offhandedly, not even looking her way.

  "Go ask them what those two red decorations are for. I think they look pretty good."

  "Yes, my lady," a guard in the shadows appeared at once and bowed before departing.

  Freya was briefly stunned. She hadn't expected Selene to speak suddenly, much less show interest in that little drink stall.

  Selene tilted her head slightly and, for once, allowed a relaxed smile to surface. Her voice was soft but clear: "Don't underestimate them. Do you know how many gold coins they might earn tonight?"

  Freya was at a loss for words, unsure how to respond.

  "I'd guess—at least twenty," Selene said with a faint curve of her lips, a hint of admiration in her eyes.

  She gazed quietly at the two diligent bunny girls, as if looking at twin flames that refused to go out.

  She knew—those smiles came from true satisfaction. They weren't faked, nor meant to please anyone. They were the smiles of genuine happiness.