Jumanji stepped out of the council chamber with steady strides, leaving behind a Leader and a group of elders trapped in stunned contemplation.
Events had accelerated far beyond what the wise men of the Carp Tribe had ever anticipated, and before they could even properly process it, they found themselves bound by a spiritual covenant to a complete stranger known only as **"the Shepherd of Sheep."**
A heavy silence settled over them.
No one could find the words to speak, for the crushing burden of responsibility had already begun to suffocate their hearts.
The rest of the day passed swiftly, almost like a fleeting illusion.
Jumanji was received as an honored guest within Elder Zohur's residence.
He was offered the finest hospitality, attended to with exceptional care that reflected just how much hope now rested upon his shoulders.
Meanwhile, Jumanji used that rare moment of calm to sort through his thoughts and prepare mentally for the coming battle against the **leech illness**.
At the break of dawn the following day, an urgent and closed meeting of the elders was convened, stirring waves of whispers and quiet speculation throughout the tribe.
Curious eyes followed every person who entered or exited the meeting hall, yet the Leader's strictness and the absolute secrecy imposed over the matter prevented even a single detail from leaking out.
The common people had no idea of the scale of the disaster.
They knew nothing of the **farm embryo's** condition.
That secret was the tribe's **black box**—the one truth that could never be allowed to surface.
The elders understood this better than anyone.
If even a fragment of this crisis were to reach the ears of the two neighboring tribes, it might tempt them into launching a sudden attack or exploiting this weakness to destabilize the Carp Tribe entirely.
The tribe was walking across a taut rope stretched over the abyss.
A single mistake could mean the end.
When Jumanji entered the heart of the elders' council hall, he did so with complete ease and confidence.
He had already lived through halls like this before—back in the tribe of Experia.
Atmospheres charged with authority were not unfamiliar to him, nor were elevated seats of power.
Yet the moment he stepped inside, gazes rained down upon him from every direction.
Ten elders sat in their places with suffocating dignity, like mountains of spiritual power poised and waiting.
The silence inside the hall was oppressive.
Only the rapid beating of hearts and the sharp, probing eyes fixed upon Jumanji seemed to move within that stillness.
Today was the decisive moment.
Today, the curtain would be lifted from the **list of requirements** necessary to prepare for healing the Leader's **leech**.
The elders' reactions varied.
Some were submerged in deep suspicion, trying to decipher the nature of this strange outsider.
Others stared at him with sharp, blade-like eyes, attempting to probe his depths and determine whether he truly carried salvation in his hands…
or whether he was nothing more than an elegant trap that would drag the tribe into ruin.
Jumanji placed a rolled parchment before them all, then spoke in a calm, confident tone that cut through the silence like a sharpened blade.
"This is the list of requirements I will need throughout the coming two months of preparation.
Every single detail on it is necessary.
Nothing may be removed, and nothing may be substituted."
Silence lingered for a few moments before one of the elders rose with measured steps, took the parchment, and respectfully placed it into the Leader's hands.
The Leader began reading the written words with deep concentration.
As his eyes moved across the lines, his expression slowly changed.
His brows lifted in shock he could not hide, and then he looked back up at Jumanji with a far deeper intensity, as though he were seeing him for the first time.
A current of unease spread among the elders as they watched the Leader's restrained reaction.
One of them could bear the silence no longer and asked with a voice full of concern and curiosity,
"Leader… tell us, what exactly is this fellow spiritual practitioner asking for? Are these resources obtainable… or is this something far beyond us?"
The Leader exhaled deeply, then began listing the contents of the parchment in a rough voice steeped in disbelief.
He named the **Snow Sunflower Blossom**, the **Scales of the Black Mirna Fish**, and a **White River Seal whose first tooth had not yet emerged**…
Then he continued down a long list of rare medicinal ingredients, followed by a demand for a number of **spiritual cores** of both **copper** and **silver rank**.
But what caused everyone's eyes to widen as though they had fallen into a pit of shock was the final request at the very bottom of the parchment.
One of the elders shot up from his seat and shouted in a trembling voice,
"A Black Honey Bee?! Is this man serious?!"
Elder Baido muttered as a chill spread through his limbs,
"We are talking about a **seventh-rank spiritual beast**…
A demand like this is nothing short of economic and political suicide for the tribe."
Their loud reactions were little more than background noise to Jumanji, who remained perfectly composed in his icy calm.
He looked at them with complete indifference and said,
"I have no concern for the resources written on that parchment, nor do I care whether you prepare them or not.
That is not my concern.
I have already done my part and informed you of what is required to heal the **leech**.
Now, the ball is in your court.
You may proceed or refuse—it changes nothing for me."
Jumanji's words struck the elders like a hammer.
His boldness shocked them, but more importantly, it landed squarely on their greatest weakness.
At that moment, they realized they had no luxury to bargain, negotiate, or stall.
They were standing at the edge of a cliff.
And this stranger was the only one claiming to hold the ropes that could pull their Leader's spiritual farm back from destruction.
After a heavy silence smothered the hall, Jumanji broke the stillness once more, this time with a note of subtle guidance in his voice.
"If you elders cooperate together, then hunting that bee will not be impossible.
You may find what you seek deep within the forest—specifically among the nests of the **black hornets** hidden in its darkest regions."
He watched the grim expressions on their faces before continuing,
"I understand well that the task is dangerous and will require a precise plan and high coordination.
But the **leech illness** is a beast that feeds on time.
And time is not on your side.
I have already placed the map and the path in your hands.
What remains now is your will."
Jumanji gathered himself with dignified composure, cast one final glance across the room, and concluded,
"I have said all that I needed to say.
I will leave you now to deliberate your affairs.
Excuse me."
He departed with quiet steps, leaving behind a hall boiling with tension and unrest.
He had cast a massive stone into their stagnant waters and forced them to confront a harsh truth:
Saving their Leader would demand sacrifices far greater than mere material resources.
It would require risking lives in the forbidden depths of the forest itself.
Yet Jumanji had barely left the hall when the doors suddenly burst open.
A man came stumbling inside, panting wildly.
The moment he reached the center of the chamber, his strength gave out and he collapsed to his knees, his ragged breathing outrunning his words.
The Leader cried out in confusion and alarm,
"What happened to you?! Speak! What is it?!"
The man stammered in a voice trembling from shock,
"Leader… honorable elders… disaster has struck!
All of the **Lightning Jewels** have been stolen from the vault!
And worse than that…
we found the **Spotted Tiger** dead!"
Those words crashed down upon the hall like a collapsing mountain.
All the elders shot to their feet, their faces turning pale.
None of them had imagined that an **eighth-rank guardian beast** could be killed so easily…
or that their spiritual treasures could be plundered at such a critical moment, while they were already struggling under the weight of the **leech illness**.
The expression on the Carp Tribe Leader's face hardened, filling with a mixture of anger and cold despair.
Then he said in a low voice tinged with helplessness,
"To kill an eighth-rank guardian and plunder the jewels in the heart of our own territory…
whoever did this must be an expert no lower than the **third or fourth rank**."
Everyone froze where they stood.
A suffocating gloom descended over the hall.
They had only just glimpsed a sliver of hope through the **Shepherd of Sheep** and his impossible demands…
and now another calamity had descended upon them, making their position even more desperate.
It was as though fate itself refused to let the Carp Tribe escape the mouth of the volcano.
As for Jumanji, he withdrew in complete calm, leaving behind a volcano on the verge of erupting within the council walls.
He wandered through the tribe's alleys and pathways without the slightest concern for the storms he had stirred.
He had already read their decision in the desperate light within their eyes.
And he knew that, despite their shock, they would ultimately walk the path he had drawn for them.
Shaking the dust of thought from his shoulders, Jumanji quietly observed the bustle of daily life around him.
Children ran through the streets with innocent laughter filling the air.
Men worked busily in their shops with energetic focus.
Old people exchanged casual conversation beneath the shade of their homes.
Outside, the atmosphere pulsed with beauty and life—
a strange and almost breathtaking contrast to the funeral-like gloom and oppressive tension hanging over the council hall.
Jumanji walked among them like a passing stranger, carrying in his possession secrets that might one day alter the fate of all these smiling faces.
And for the moment, he allowed himself to enjoy this temporary stillness…
before the events of the coming night would inevitably drag him back into the heart of the storm.
For while the sun still shone brightly above the heads of the common folk,
darkness had already begun creeping into the hearts of the tribe's great figures—
men who would not taste sleep again for many long nights.
**End of Chapter**