Chen Xu's scalp tingled as he glanced around the dense forest, every shadow suddenly full of threat.
If one of those monstrous black gorillas leapt out now, even running would be useless—he'd be crushed before taking three steps.
"Good grief," he muttered under his breath, forcing down the chill that crept up his spine. "Was the Stone Age really this terrifying? Don't tell me I've landed in the damn Dinosaur Era…"
He swallowed hard.
Much as he hated to admit it, this land was perfect—fertile, defensible, rich in resources—but its current masters were simply too powerful. With only sixty ape-men under his command, armed with bamboo spears and crude stone tools, even if they all charged together, they'd be torn apart.
And who could say this was the only gorilla troop in the forest?
As for those towering ten-meter colossi he'd glimpsed from afar, he didn't even want to think about them.
If those joined the battle, the whole war could be called off before it began.
His eyes flicked from side to side, studying the black-furred giants lazily sprawling in the distance.
His tongue darted across his lips.
It seems I'll have to use that plan after all. A direct clash would be suicide.
He exhaled sharply, decision made. "This is the Stone Age," he muttered coldly. "No need to talk about mercy. We secure our base first—then we talk about conscience."
In one smooth motion, Chen Xu vanished into the jungle, his figure darting between the trees like a shadow. Before long, he reached the foot of the hill. With a light press of his foot, he sprang up a nearby tree, using its trunk to vault toward the dangling ropes above the cliff.
Gripping the vines firmly, he climbed up with practiced speed, re-entering his cave and finally breathing out in relief.
Even recalling the oppressive aura of those black titans made his heartbeat quicken uncontrollably.
He patted the shoulders of the two ape sentries who had guarded the ropes—a rare gesture of praise. Then, carefully, he coiled the vines and stored them deeper in the cave.
Without rest, he stepped outside again and climbed to the mountaintop.
There, under the blazing noon sun, he gathered several tough vines, cutting them into short segments with a sharpened stone.
Before the assembled ape-men, Chen Xu demonstrated his plan.
He took a bundle of dry firewood, lashed it tightly with vine cord, and tied it into a compact cylinder.
Then he repeated the motion again and again, until even the slowest ape could understand.
Once he was sure they had memorized the steps, he nodded and ordered them to begin.
Soon, the mountaintop buzzed with activity as dozens of hairy arms worked, binding bundle after bundle.
An hour later, the pile of firewood had transformed into countless individual "packages," each the thickness of a man's torso and bound so tight it could barely shift under pressure.
Chen Xu hefted one in his arms, testing the weight. A faint grin curled at the edge of his lips.
Drawing a deep breath, he summoned his inner energy. His muscles tensed—and with a violent burst, he hurled the bundle outward.
The firewood sailed through the air like a cannonball, arcing high above the cliff before vanishing into the eastern forest.
A heartbeat later, a distant crash echoed through the trees.
"With my current strength, and this thirty-meter height," Chen Xu murmured, flexing his arms, "I can throw each one deep into the jungle. Perfect."
His eyes gleamed.
He called out to the hunting party, ordering them to join him. Together, they began hurling the firewood into the forest below.
The ape-men didn't understand why the Fire God wanted them to throw their precious wood into the wilderness, but none dared question him.
One after another, the heavy bundles soared off the cliff, raining into the eastern woods like a barrage of primitive artillery.
Though their strength couldn't match Chen Xu's, the height advantage let even the weakest among them send the bundles far enough to scatter deep within the foliage.
Soon, the jungle began to tremble.
From the shadowed depths came a low rumble, like mountains stirring in their sleep. Trees bent and snapped as something massive moved within, crushing the undergrowth in its wake.
Then, with a thunderous roar, the forest split open—five black-furred behemoths burst into view.
"Keep throwing! Don't stop!" Chen Xu bellowed, eyes flashing with triumph.
The ape-men jolted at his shout, fear momentarily forgotten, and resumed hurling the firewood bombs with renewed fervor.
The five gorillas—each nearly four meters tall—stood at the base of the cliff like living boulders, staring up at the tiny figures defiling their territory.
Their chests heaved. Then came the roars.
They beat their massive fists against their chests with deafening force, the air itself trembling with the rhythm. Birds scattered from the treetops in a frenzy; beasts fled their dens, watching from afar with uneasy curiosity.
"What now?" Chen Xu murmured, half to himself. "Still just angry? Hmph… looks like it's not enough."
He gritted his teeth and raised his arm again. "Faster! Keep throwing!"
Bundle after bundle flew out from the cliffside, Chen Xu's own throws guided with surgical precision. Each struck exactly where he remembered the gorillas resting earlier, exploding in showers of branches and dust.
The enraged giants shrieked. More dark shapes burst from the jungle—reinforcements.
They glared up, eyes bloodshot, drool gleaming on their bared teeth. Several leapt, trying to scale the cliff wall.
They sprang upward with astonishing strength—ten meters in a single bound—but the mountain loomed still higher, its walls sheer and merciless.
The beasts crashed back to earth, the impact shaking the ground, yet they rose again almost instantly, unhurt.
Chen Xu's brows twitched. "Damn… that hide's tougher than I thought."
Still, there was no turning back now.
If they didn't claim this land, the tribe would soon starve. He'd worked too hard to build his Fire Tribe only to watch it crumble for lack of a home.
Grinding his teeth, he shouted fresh orders.
Half the hunters were to keep throwing; the others were sent to gather and bind more firewood. The non-combat apes were soon drawn into the rhythm—collecting, tying, carrying, throwing.
Each team rotated seamlessly, keeping fatigue low and efficiency high. It was primitive industry—organized chaos turned into order.
By the time the sun climbed past its zenith, the eastern forest floor was littered with bundles of wood.
The gorillas' rage had only helped scatter them further, their furious thrashing spreading the debris exactly as Chen Xu had intended.
Their roars had not ceased all morning, but the ape-men were no longer afraid.
At first, every bellow had sent them trembling; now, they had grown accustomed to the thunder. Some even sneered down at the furious giants.
The gorillas, too, were tiring. After leaping and roaring for hours, even their titanic bodies began to show fatigue. They stopped jumping, pacing restlessly at the cliff's base, looking for another way up.
Chen Xu folded his arms behind his back, watching them with a faint smirk.
"So stubborn… Can't climb? Why not try going around?"
His tone carried a mix of amusement and disappointment.
On one hand, their stupidity spared him a fight. On the other, he'd hoped they might circle around—perhaps clash with the predators ruling the surrounding territories.
He chuckled softly. "Seems their intelligence isn't quite up to the task."
By noon, the ape-men were exhausted and the firewood nearly gone. The gorillas' throats were raw from endless howling. Both sides, in their own way, had reached their limits.
Seeing this, Chen Xu raised a hand. "Enough. We stop here."
The ape-men dropped their last bundles, collapsing in relief. Below, the weary giants grumbled a few more roars before, one by one, retreating into the depths of the forest.
Chen Xu exhaled, satisfied.
The test had not been perfect—but it had worked. The strategy was sound. He could already envision the next phase.
When the ape-men had rested and eaten a meal of roasted meat, Chen Xu gathered them again.
He divided thirty-five of the non-warriors into two groups—one to grind and shape stone tools, the other to collect more firewood.
After demonstrating the technique for sharpening stone blades, he made sure they understood, then waved for the hunting party to follow.
Twenty warriors stepped forward, gripping their spears.
The stores of food were running low.
It was time to hunt again.