The old man, now with gray hair, appeared somewhat stooped in the candlelight. Milia could not find any words of blame. She chose to believe in his loyalty to the Lawrence tribe and told the High Priest about her recent encounters, including the unknown figure who had intruded into her home at night and Thomas's recent threat in the olive tree courtyard.

The priest listened attentively. His expression revealed no surprise.

Shaking his head, the High Priest hesitated for a moment before turning to gaze at Milia. "As the leader of the Wolf Clan, Kenny should not have married you. You are not one of our tribe, nor are you a werewolf."

"But I believed in him. As Dade's son, he should have had Dade's courage and ability. As a priest, I have no right to make any decisions on behalf of the chief, even if he wants to marry an outsider. Today, this may not be considered a bad decision."

Milia's eyes welled up with tears as she lowered her head, remembering Kenny's promise. How brave and full of struggle he had been to break the wolf taboo against marrying outsiders. Would he really give up so easily? Milia took a deep breath. Yet, the fact before her eyes was that Kenny had indeed chosen to fake his death, splitting into two people in her memory, one gradually becoming clear, the other fading away into darkness.

"I don't know what happened between them, but Kenny must have been involved in something dishonorable," the High Priest said, his face full of disappointment and heartache, like a father talking about a son who had fallen from grace. "The Lawrence tribe has regained its glory from Dade's hands. I thought his son would protect and prosper all of this. But now, the future of Lawrence is in great crisis, and I have heard whispers from the oracle." The High Priest looked up towards the distance, avoiding Milia's gaze. "I always thought Kenny just lacked the leadership skills of the old chief. But I never expected him to take such a risk. All I can do is cover this up and not let the tribe know. I suppose you would do the same, wouldn't you?"

Milia left the temple, leading her horse. In the gradually brightening dawn, she mounted her horse and rode off into the distance. Her destination was the mysterious River Domain. Perhaps the truth lay there.

The sound of hooves echoed on the muddy ground, matching the tired, monotonous rhythm of the low mud huts. The simple yellow-brown walls were pasted onto the frame of branches, blending together. People poured various dirty waters onto the streets, where wet, wild dogs and bare-bodied, dirty children ran about.

Milie rode on horseback, wrapped in a gray robe, her hair disheveled, and her face covered in dust. It took her three days of riding after coming out of the valley to reach Shoadan, the closest village to the port town.

Before leaving, she had heard Ethan say that Josephine used to live there. There were several such villages in the river domain, and Milie had stayed in such places before. The familiar smell, mixed with poverty and danger, the damp air evaporating from the road, took her back to her wandering youth.

She knew that even in such dilapidated villages, there would be one or two taverns. She rode her horse towards the center of the dense mud house area. Sure enough, the sign of the Wild Boar Tavern hung on a dilapidated stone wall, with a post for tying horses at the door.

Milie dismounted and tied the horse. She entered the tavern and arranged for a room upstairs. After going upstairs, there was a dark corridor. At the end of the corridor, there was a small door. Pushing it open, she found a narrow space barely enough for two people to stand and turn around, with a crumpled gray sheet covering the small bed against the wall.

On one side of the wall were two wooden windows, one of which was about to fall off. The cold wind blew in through the hole, and Milie felt colder inside the room than outside.

Helplessly shaking her head, Milie unpacked her bundle and took out a sheet and a duvet to remake the bed. She sat down and took out a dry loaf of bread from her backpack to nibble on. Inns like this one had food and drinks that were hard to swallow. After deciding to eat, Milie planned to inquire about the news downstairs.

There were not many people in the tavern, and the atmosphere was bleak, with even the counter of the tavern covered in thick grease. The bartender was a bald middle-aged man with a round belly and greasy cuffs. He saw Milie come downstairs, and his eyes kept scanning her. When Milie spoke to him, the bartender was very straightforward and chatted with her.

After drinking two cups of pale ale, Milie had already inquired about a lot of information. The bartender, named Jimmy, was obviously the most well-informed person in this small village. Jimmy was not unfamiliar with the strangers who came to the river domain; he was just very interested in Milie.

"Let me tell you, miss, although this place looks small, there are several gangs here. They often fight among themselves and often come to the village to rob. It's very dangerous, so we don't dare to go out at night."

"Oh, but this place should be within the jurisdiction of Lawrence, right? Doesn't it have tribal law enforcement officers and guards?"

Jimmy sneered, "What's the use of them? The gangs are too powerful." Jimmy turned around and poured another glass of pale ale and handed it to Milie, smiling flatteringly, "Beautiful lady, let me buy you this drink."

Building relationships with key informants was necessary. Milie blinked and smiled as she took the glass of beer Jimmy handed her. "I heard that Lawrence's leader and the guards often patrol in the river domain. Haven't the people here asked him for help?"

"Oh, you mean leader Kenny? He came, hmm, how should I put it? He's much worse than his father. After he came here, he started this new alliance called Olve, trying to persuade those wandering werewolves to join the alliance and not participate in the gangs."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"A good thing? The big shots of those gangs don't think so. They're even more excited. And there are quite a few people from the southern Cheno tribe in this Olve alliance."

Milie took a sip of beer. Indeed, Ethan was right. Kenny's activities in the river area were somewhat related to the southern tribe. "By the way, I want to ask you about a person."

"Haha, in this small place, everyone knows everyone. Who do you want to ask?"

"A man named Joseph, a retired veteran from the Lawrence city-state."

"Oh, him, there is such a person. My dad was working in this tavern when he came to our place. That old man is a bit strange, living alone outside the village, quite far from here."

"Has he been to the village recently?" Jimmy shook his head, "He never comes to our tavern. He just hangs around outside the village, sometimes fishing, and sometimes he can't be seen for a long time. I don't know how that old man survives. He doesn't interact much with the people in the village either."

Milie nodded. She asked the bartender to point her the way to Joseph's house. Jimmy took out a dirty piece of paper from under the bar and drew a rough map with a pen. Milie took this simple map, left the door, walked around the village, passed through several alleys, and stepped on a muddy wasteland.

She climbed over a wooden fence at the edge of the village, walked through a thicket, and in the distance was a swamp closer to the river. In the middle of the swamp were some rocks with several crooked little sheds on top. In the gloomy weather approaching dusk, the wooden houses were dark without lights.

If one didn't deliberately look for it, it was really hard to imagine that anyone would live here. When Milie reached the little shed, she almost couldn't feel the presence of anyone living there. Only by careful searching could she find several relatively clean jars at the entrance, which seemed to contain water and suspicious food like pickled fish.

There were footprints around the jars, clearly the footprints of a man, crisscrossing on them, very fresh. Regardless of who it was, someone did live here. Milie's heart pounded, and she stood at the door and knocked a few times, but there was no response. She tried to push the door, and it creaked open. The room was narrow and dim, with a floor cluttered with various discarded items, and the air was damp and cold. The fireplace was full of cold ashes. Milie was bowing her head to look, and a figure slowly walked out from the next room, silently standing behind her.