As dawn broke the following day, the drums of the Carp Fish Tribe resounded through the forest.
Their steady, rhythmic thumping announced the arrival of the imposing delegation from the Stork Clan.
Leading the group was a woman in her thirties, exuding a subtle yet stable aura of profound strength.
She wore captivating crimson robes that commanded the eye and a black bamboo hat that added a layer of mystery to her domineering presence. She moved like a bird of prey landing with dignity among lesser fowl.
Beside the envoy walked a young girl in robes of pure blue silk that swayed with her graceful steps; she was the same girl Jumanji had encountered a month ago, though today she appeared more composed and present.
Next to them walked a youth of seventeen, his face marked by self-assurance, his sharp eyes roaming the tribe's surroundings with undisguised curiosity.
This trio represented the weight and might of the Stork Clan. Their presence was not merely a diplomatic visit; it was a clear signal that they had come for the Rift and nothing else.
One of the High Elders stepped forward to receive the envoy personally, surrounded by a ceremony of reverence and awe.
He led her with measured steps toward the Council of Sovereignty, where the Leader and the other Elders awaited.
Inside the council hall, the scene shifted to reflect the change in the balance of power. The Leader's seat was no longer the sole summit of the room.
Another seat, prepared with a grandeur befitting her status, had been placed parallel to the seat of leadership.
As the envoy and her companions entered, the Elders rose in respect. Even the Leader himself stood, his features masked in forced humility.
In the scales of spiritual power, his rank placed him in a subordinate position.
Silence fell over the hall. No one dared to utter a word until the Leader initiated with a diplomatic smile.
"Welcome, Spiritual Sister Mai Ejin. We are honored by your arrival at our humble tribe. I hope your journey was free of trouble."
Mai Ejin nodded with a coldness born of pride, scrutinizing his features before whispering in a piercing tone, "Brother Neron... you look to be in worse condition than I last remember."
A pale smile remained on Neron's face as he replied, "That is to be expected. My weakness could never escape your discerning eyes."
Mai Ejin sighed, removing her bamboo hat. "My father once offered for you to join us, yet you chose defiance and refusal. We respect your independence, but look where it has brought you... still shackled by the constraints of the Third Rank while the world passes you by."
Neron sat down slowly, a hint of suppressed sorrow in his voice. "Not everything a man desires is within his reach, Mai... life is but a series of variables that we do not always control."
A brief silence followed before Neron added with dignified weight, "Please, take your seat, Spiritual Sister."
Mai Ejin settled into her luxurious chair with aristocratic coldness, while the youth and the girl stood behind her like silent sentinels.
The envoy had no intention of wasting time on excessive pleasantries. She launched her diplomatic strike immediately:
"There are grave matters awaiting completion back at the Clan, so I shall get straight to the point. Our Clan is fully aware of the Spiritual Rift that has emerged within your tribe's territory. I am here today because you realize exactly what that means."
A heavy silence descended upon the hall. Mai Ejin's words were not a mere notification; they were an explicit declaration of guardianship.
When no one dared to interrupt, she continued in an indisputable tone: "We will allow the Rift to surpass the Ninth Rank and reach the Eighth. I know for certain this is the ceiling of your ambitions."
"Therefore, our Clan Leader has issued his final decision: This Rift will be officially opened two months from now, under the direct supervision of the Stork Clan."
"But... this is an injustice!" one of the Elders cried out, his voice thick with frustration. "We are counting on this Rift to develop our new generation of cultivators. Is it not unfair for our resources to be seized while they are in our own home?"
Before the Elder could finish, Neron raised his hand in a firm gesture. The Elder fell silent instantly, and a charged stillness filled the room as they awaited the Leader's response to this spiritual blockade.
Mai Ejin continued in a cold voice that carried a veiled warning: "The Rift is not far from reaching the Eighth Rank. I hope you do not undertake any reckless actions that might damage the quality of this precious resource."
Leader Neron maintained his outward calm and asked neutrally, "And what of our rising generation? What will be their share in this invasion?"
Mai Ejin clasped her fingers with poise. "Our Elders have decided to grant your tribe ten seats, and another ten to the Brown Bear Tribe. Of course, this right is conditional upon your ability to purchase these seats."
"For your information," she added, "the Brown Bear Tribe has already rushed to secure their share and has paid the full price."
One of the Elders gritted his teeth in fury. The image of betrayal formed before his eyes. How dare those scoundrels bargain for seats in a Rift that geographically belongs to our tribe?
The audacity was beyond words, but the bitterness of helplessness was heavier. Everyone remained silent, sparks flying from their eyes.
Neron broke the silence with a direct question: "And what is the required cost for those ten seats?"
Mai Ejin gave a faint smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It is simple... thirty Copper Cores per seat. This means the total cost for your share is only three hundred Copper Cores."
One of the Elders nearly choked on his breath upon hearing the number. The word "only" in Ejin's dictionary meant a catastrophe for the tribe's budget—especially after Jumanji had "devoured" nearly half of their spiritual savings with his demands a month ago.
The situation was becoming suffocating. The tribe was caught in a pincer: lose a historic opportunity for the youth, or face total bankruptcy to secure entry.
Amidst the state of shock and internal burning among the Elders, Neron alone remained steady. Without argument or plea, he said, "We will pay. We will secure those ten seats."
Neron understood deeply that losing the chance to enter this Rift meant losing the future of the rising generation.
Even though the treasury groaned under the weight of the resources Jumanji had drained, he decided to gamble everything the tribe possessed.
The Elders exchanged looks of shock and confusion; they knew the poverty of their situation better than anyone. Yet Neron's aura and decisive command kept the words trapped in their throats. Ultimately, he was the Leader, and he carried the weight of this suicidal decision.
At that moment, an Elder broke through the shock, asking with curiosity, "By the way, Envoy... you mentioned the Brown Bear Tribe, but what about the Experia Tribe? Do they not have a share in this invasion?"
Mai Ejin answered with a sharp coldness, "The Experia Tribe is completely out of the equation. To grant seats to a tribe that already possesses a Fourth-Rank Spiritual Farm is an act of folly. We will not allow their younger generation an additional chance to ascend and narrow the gap between us."
She continued emotionlessly, "As you well know, they have a genius who managed to awaken an 'Excellent' quality farm. Therefore, their exclusion from this invasion is a decision already finalized."
A bitter thought crossed the mind of one of the Elders as he looked at the envoy's coldness. He realized the Stork Clan would never allow any Third-Rank tribe to catch up to them.
Even if their tribe showed signs of maturity and strength, these clans would do the impossible to keep them at the bottom, scavenging for the crumbs thrown to them.
Mai's words were not just an administrative explanation; they were a political message wrapped in arrogance.
Everyone in the hall understood the hidden meaning: "We are the ones who decide who rises and who stays. We are the ones who draft the map of power to ensure our sovereignty in this region."
****
Meanwhile, Jumanji was submerged in the world of his closed cultivation, slowly and steadily reshaping his being.
He paid no heed to the political conflicts swirling in the outside world. His compass was set toward a single goal: reaching the peak of power and developing his Spiritual Farm.
Jumanji utilized every second of his isolation. Now, he stood tall, contemplating the vast reaches of Red Corn that had fully matured and were teeming with energy.
His eyes then turned toward the fields of Brown Wheat, its stalks standing with dignity like loyal soldiers in the presence of their master.
Nothing separated the burning cornfields from the steady wheat stalks except for the medium-sized river that flowed with a quiet gurgle, splitting the land into two halves of fertility.
Jumanji stepped forward, his gait heavy with exhaustion, treading upon the dewy green grass. Yet, his features radiated a slight smile of satisfaction.
Behind this fatigue lay the result of five months of hardship, crowned by his advancement to "Stage Three: The Lake Stage."
He stood on the banks of the mirrored lake, gazing at the black seed with reverence. Beside it rested four shimmering Copper Cores.
His spiritual production had doubled with every step toward the summit. In the first phase of Medium Quality, the land granted him two Copper Cores a month. In the second, the number rose to three.
Now, having reached the third stage, the fruits of his sovereignty manifested before him as definitive proof that his labor was not in vain.
"I believe one month still separates me from the appointment... which means five more months I will spend in this space," Jumanji murmured with a sigh of weariness.
He wiped the sweat from his brow. "Patience is truly starting to run thin, but there is no escape from finishing what I started. The summit is not reached through boredom."
After harvesting the spiritual cores, Jumanji walked with steady steps toward the vast Red Corn fields.
His mission did not end with advancing his own being; he had to manage this bountiful harvest and extract the "Leech Jewels" from it.
He knew from experience that this type of crop produced "Red Starfish Leeches."
Though he secretly classified them as a "weak" product that did not meet his high ambitions, he knew they were treasures in the eyes of others.
He looked at the burning fruits coldly, muttering, "This leech will be a winning card in my future trades."
"I know exactly the places that pant after this type and value it more than anything else."
His cultivation was not merely a means of energy; it was a complete factory for material and spiritual liquidity that would pave the way for him when he decided to step out from the tribe's shadow and face the world.
End of Chapter