Capítulo 13: 13 : Don't count your chickens before they Hatch

At the gathering point near the elusive Mad Witch plant, the forest was alive with the rustling of leaves and the murmurs of sect disciples. One by one, they emerged from the depths of the forest, each bearing the fruits of their arduous day's labor. The air was thick with anticipation, a palpable tension rising as the two sects prepared to reveal their harvest.

The sight of Princess Lanner walking among the Clark Sect disciples caused a stir, particularly catching Sen Vinci off guard. His plan to weaken the Clark Sect through her elimination had clearly failed, and the realization brought a shadow of disappointment across his face. Yet, he remained silent, his thoughts obscured behind a stoic facade.

Princess Lanner, her expression a blend of relief and determination, pulled Madam Frost aside. In hushed, urgent tones, she recounted the harrowing attack by the Vinci Sect disciples and the unforeseen intervention of the Raka beast. "The beast shattered the limbs of those two disciples. I left them in the forest," she explained, her voice steady despite the ordeal.

Madam Frost listened intently, her eyes hardening with each word. The news was grave, but she knew that a direct confrontation at this juncture would only escalate tensions. Wisdom dictated a more measured response.

As the sun began its descent, painting the sky with streaks of orange and red, the air grew thick with the anticipation of the impending count. All disciples had returned, except Ria and Eric from the Clark Sect and the two missing Vinci Sect disciples, their whereabouts and fates unknown.

The counting commenced amidst a rising chorus of speculation and whispers. "What if Ria and Eric fell prey to the forest beasts?" some wondered aloud, their voices tinged with concern and doubt.

The piles of spirit grasses and animal cores grew, each a testament to the sects' efforts. The Vinci Sect's yield was impressive: 173 spirit grasses and 21 animal cores. In contrast, the Clark Sect's collection was less abundant, totaling 133 spirit grasses and the same number of animal cores, falling short by a significant margin.

Triumphant cheers erupted from the Vinci Sect disciples. "It's time for the Clark Sect to lick their wounds and leave the forest!" the disciples shouted, their voices loud and boisterous, reveling in their apparent victory.

Madam Frost, her gaze sweeping over her disciples, raised her hand for silence. "The Guardian (like sun) rays still shine upon the forest. We will wait until sunset. The count is incomplete until all members have returned," she declared, her voice resolute.

A murmur of resignation spread among the Clark Sect disciples, the likelihood of Ria and Eric making up the deficit seeming implausible.

The Vinci Sect disciples, however, continued their celebrations, their jeers growing louder. They conveniently ignored the fact that two of their own were missing, their focus solely on the prospect of victory.

As the sun's final rays lingered on the horizon, casting long shadows over the clearing, an air of suspense enveloped the gathering. Eyes turned repeatedly to the forest's edge, hoping for a glimpse of the missing disciples.

Madam Frost stood stoically, her expression betraying none of her inner turmoil. The fate of Ria and Eric weighed heavily on her mind, their absence a puzzle yet to be solved.

"Let it be... at least I'm happy. We don't need to soil our hands to kill that horse servant," Richard boasted to his underlings, his voice dripping with disdain.

But the atmosphere shifted abruptly with the unexpected arrival of Ria, cradling two small baby animals in her arms. Trailing behind her was Eric, his hands nonchalantly tucked in his pockets, whistling a carefree, poetic tune as if oblivious to the high-strung environment he was walking into.

Madam Frost, upon seeing Ria, let out a soft sigh of relief, her tense features relaxing slightly.

"Thank God she's alive," she muttered under her breath.

Richard's face contorted with anger at the sight of their nonchalant entrance. "Don't you know we've all been waiting? What took you so long?" barked one of Richard's followers, his tone sharp with irritation.

Ria, unfazed by the hostile reception, continued towards Madam Frost, her focus solely on the task at hand.

"Ria, how many spirit grasses did you bring? Tell us quickly!" one of the female disciple asked in an eager tone.

Richard, unable to resist another jab, sneered, "There's no use. We need more than 40 spirit grasses to win, which is impossible for her."

Ignoring Richard's sarcasm, Ria reached into her storage ring and, to everyone's astonishment, pulled out exactly 41 spirit grasses, placing them gently in Madam Frost's outstretched hands.

The clearing erupted into a cacophony of reactions. The Clark Sect disciples cheered wildly, their voices booming through the forest, while the Vinci Sect disciples stood in stunned silence, their mouths agape at the unexpected turn of events.

"Now, it seems the forest favors the Clark Sect," one of the Clark disciples shouted triumphantly, directing a pointed look at the deflated Vinci sect members. "Time for you to leave, as per the agreement!"

Eric, in the midst of the uproar, quietly handed the defensive talisman Madam Frost had given him earlier, back to her. With a subtle nod of acknowledgment, he stepped back, content to watch the drama unfold from the sidelines.

Madam Frost, holding the talisman in one hand and the winning spirit grasses in the other, looked over at Sen Vinci. Her expression was a mix of triumph and warning, a silent message that the deceitful tactics of the Vinci Sect had not gone unnoticed.

Sen Vinci, his plan unraveled, stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the ground. The realization that his ploy had backfired, and the implications of this defeat, were slowly dawning on him.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the gathering, the forest seemed to whisper secrets of its own. In this world of cultivation, where power and cunning often reigned supreme, the day had proven that sometimes, the underestimated and the overlooked held the key to unforeseen victories.

PETERPAN