At dawn, Chen Xu stirred from meditation, his consciousness slowly surfacing from the tranquil depths of cultivation.
Outside the cave, the tribe had already awakened.
The ape-men moved with an emerging sense of order—gathering firewood, foraging fruit, preparing food. Under Chen Xu's quiet command, a fragile outline of civilization was beginning to take shape.
The hunting party had expanded to fifteen strong. Now, all of them waited atop the hill, assembled in disciplined silence for the Fire God's decree.
Chen Xu stood at the peak, gazing eastward toward the dense jungle. With a wave of his hand, he summoned Number One and the ape-warrior captain. Together, they discussed the forest that lay beyond.
Both ape-men trembled as they spoke, their eyes filled with instinctive dread. Though neither could say precisely what dwelled within, their fear was palpable—a superstition passed down through generations.
To them, that forest was forbidden ground, a land of death where none returned.
Before Chen Xu could press further, a commotion rose near the fire.
One of the female apes, her face flickering in the flames' glow, suddenly stood and approached. Her movements carried a mix of reverence and nervous excitement.
Before the gathered tribe, she babbled in the crude tongue of her kind, gesturing rapidly, her voice trembling with awe.
Chen Xu raised a brow. "You say there are creatures in the forest below—creatures like us?"
Several males bristled, ready to drive her away, but Chen Xu halted them with a glance. He regarded the brave female with curiosity. She was from the ape-captain's tribe—now part of his own—yet to speak before the Fire God so boldly took remarkable courage.
"Yes, O Great Fire God," she said, bowing deeply, her words halting but clear. "They look like us… but far stronger. I saw them once when I gathered fruit. They are terrible beings—monstrous, powerful!"
Her gestures grew vivid, describing bodies like mountains and arms thicker than trees. The awe in her tone bordered on worship—or perhaps, in her eyes, something more primal.
Chen Xu chuckled inwardly. With his towering build and divine status, it was hardly surprising if the female apes regarded him with a different kind of reverence.
"Creatures that resemble us?" he mused aloud. "Could they be… gorillas?"
He nodded approvingly, patting the female's shoulder. She nearly collapsed from excitement, mistaking the casual gesture for divine favor.
But Chen Xu merely smiled and motioned for her to return to the fire.
Though she went back reluctantly, disappointment shadowing her face, the others regarded her with newfound awe. From that moment, she held a subtle authority among the females—a matriarch born from a single touch.
Chen Xu paid it no mind. His thoughts had already drifted back to strategy—to land, to territory, to survival.
He turned toward the eastern forest once more, lost in contemplation.
The others watched from a distance, reverent and silent, unable to see what the Fire God saw.
"Interesting," he murmured at last, a spark of intent flaring in his eyes.
He ordered the hunting and cooking teams to gather all the dry wood they could find and pile it high at the cliff's edge.
Then, without another word, he selected several thick vines from the cliffside and set about slicing them down with his stone axe. His plan was clear—new rope, stronger than before.
Within an hour, thirty ape-men had collected enough firewood to build a small hill of their own, while Chen Xu finished weaving six sturdy ropes, each nearly eight meters long. Rough, yes—but resilient.
He bound the lengths together with animal sinew, winding the joins until they could bear his full weight. Two long ropes, over twenty meters each, strong enough to climb the world itself.
Testing them with both hands, Chen Xu pulled hard in opposite directions. The fibers groaned but held.
Satisfied, he smiled.
He ordered the others to continue stockpiling wood, then motioned for Number One and the ape-captain to follow. Together, they descended along the newly fastened ropes into the mountain cave below.
Standing at the mouth of the cave, Chen Xu looked down. The base of the mountain loomed twenty meters below, sheer and unyielding.
"With these ropes and my lightness skill," he murmured, "I can reach the forest floor easily. And if danger strikes, I can return just as swiftly."
Once the two apes secured the ropes, Chen Xu grasped both lines firmly and leapt outward, his body swinging in a graceful arc before gliding down the cliff.
His inner qi cushioned his descent, reducing the pull of gravity—an art no primitive being could fathom.
"How I wish I'd had such strength in my previous life," he thought with a grin. "Would've made a fine special forces soldier!"
His descent was smooth—almost elegant. His arms moved in powerful rhythm, crossing and gripping like a true ape of the wild. Before long, he neared the end of the rope. Only four meters separated him from the ground.
A single bound, a push off the cliff wall, and he soared through the air—landing soundlessly atop a nearby tree.
"Ugh, what a stench…" He wrinkled his nose. "Don't tell me… gorillas?"
Slipping down from the branch, he advanced cautiously through the undergrowth.
The reek thickened with every step, swirling through the humid air like invisible poison. One whiff nearly made him choke.
He froze. His instincts sharpened. The smell meant one thing—he was close. Very close.
He crept forward, his movements so light they barely disturbed the grass.
Then, parting the last curtain of leaves, he looked—and his breath caught.
"By the heavens… King Kong!"
Before him sprawled a clearing beneath the jungle canopy. The trees here grew tall but sparse, their roots veiled by thick, sunlit grass.
And there, lounging across the field like ancient guardians, were a dozen colossal gorillas.
Each was easily three to four meters tall. Their bodies gleamed beneath the sunlight, muscles swelling beneath dark, steel-hued fur that shimmered with an almost metallic sheen.
They lay sprawled in the grass, basking in the sun, their chests rising and falling in lazy rhythm. The ground trembled faintly with each breath.
Chen Xu's heart pounded. "Just one of those things could crush a man flat… if that paw came down on me—forget it."
Beyond the clearing, a narrow river flowed—a tributary of the one his tribe had once hunted along.
This branch was far broader, richer; silver ripples danced across the water, teeming with life.
"What a perfect place…" Chen Xu whispered. "A defensible valley, fertile soil, running water, and sunlight. With this land, the tribe could thrive—perhaps even rise."
But his excitement faded as his gaze returned to the giants.
"To claim this territory… we'd have to face them."
His lips tightened. "Even at my current level, I could barely handle one. The others? Impossible. The tribe would be slaughtered."
Still, the idea burned in his mind.
This land was everything—a cradle of power, the seed of a future kingdom.
He studied the apes again. Their proportions were too perfect, their strength too immense. These were no ordinary primates; they were living fortresses—Kongs of the jungle.
Now he understood why both ape tribes had feared this place for generations.
These beasts were unmatched. Their dark fur gleamed like armor; each movement rippled with the majesty of primal gods.
Chen Xu recalled a movie from his former life—King Kong. A ten-meter titan that battled dinosaurs.
At the time, he'd laughed it off as fiction.
But here, in this world where saber-toothed tyrants ruled and gods walked as men…
Even that legend no longer seemed impossible.