Chen Xu lifted the longbow from the fire and gave Ape-Man One the freedom to move. He placed his fingers on the bowstring and pulled with all his strength. A wave of force rippled along the string—so strong that, without activating his inner energy, he could not draw it to full length.
"Impressive… no wonder gathering the materials was such a struggle. That massive bamboo must have been the king of this grove. Its strength is unmatched!" Chen Xu's gaze shifted to a towering bamboo not far off. One of its thick stalks was now missing—transformed, of course, into the body of his longbow.
"The bow is ready—but without arrows, it's useless."
He hefted his stone axe and ascended into the bamboo grove, selecting supple yet sturdy stalks. After trimming and fitting them with polished stone or bone tips, his first long arrow came to life. Within half an hour, he had crafted twenty. He could make no more—the supply of sharp stone and bone points was exhausted.
Holding an arrow, Chen Xu nocked it with practiced ease. He stepped forward, planted his right leg, drew the bow, and with the force of his inner energy, the bow creaked under the pressure, bending into a near-perfect arc.
"A fine bow… but let's see if my aim matches its power."
Muscles taut and breath steady, Chen Xu recalled a previous life, when he was an amateur in a modern archery club. Back then, his practice involved only precision, and their composite bows could never compare to the raw, full-body tension he now felt. Here, the power was palpable; the potential, terrifying.
He aimed at a cluster of trees twenty meters away. Releasing the arrow, a sharp whiz cut through the night. Chen Xu only glimpsed a fleeting black blur before the arrow thudded deep into the target, quivering violently in the bark.
"The force… incredible. But the aim is off—definitely needs fletching," he muttered. The arrow had pierced the tree, yet its trajectory had veered far from the intended mark. Accuracy, he realized, would take countless hours of refinement, but even these crude arrows would be devastating in the Stone Age.
Strapping the longbow across his back and the arrows with sinew to his belt, Chen Xu concluded his crafting session. He seated himself by the fire, closed his eyes, and circulated his inner energy, striving to refine his strength further.
With the other tribes absent and the golden crystal beyond reach, survival and self-improvement were all that remained. The surrounding wilderness, harsh and untamed, demanded power, and Chen Xu embraced it fully.
As his circulating qi smoothed into a calm rhythm, the day's fatigue melted away. Layer by layer, energy flowed through his body, blending seamlessly with the pulse of the surrounding forest. The world seemed to breathe with him, a perfect union of man and nature. His cultivation had begun.
The mountain fell quiet as night deepened. Ape-men rested or moved about, the firelight casting shadows across the summit. No reckless beasts dared approach—the flames were both beacon and barrier. Peace, however, was deceptive.
A sudden, violent tremor of awareness jolted Chen Xu. His circulating energy faltered, a sharp pain shot through his chest, and for a moment, he feared his nascent inner channels might rupture.
"What—what's happening?"
He forced calm, scanning the mountain. Everything seemed normal: the crackling fire, the occasional exhalation of resting ape-men, the gentle pop of burning twigs. Yet something in the darkness felt… wrong.
A shiver ran down his spine. Turning his head toward the denser jungle above the mountain, Chen Xu sensed it: an overwhelming, frenzied presence, like the oppressive stillness before a storm.
Then the forest moved. A ripple ran through the treetops, sweeping toward the summit. Birds erupted in terrified flurries, their cries shattering the night. From the forest's depths came pitiful, desperate screams—the unmistakable cries of ape-men.
Chen Xu's heart tightened. The sounds mirrored the chaos he had witnessed earlier that day among the colossal gorillas, though far smaller in scale. Recognition struck: the attackers were gorillas—giants from below, now making their way up. Perhaps three, judging by the intensity of the commotion.
The ape-men, sensing danger, scrambled to the summit, their unease palpable in every anxious call. Chen Xu roared a command, steadying them. Weapons at the ready, even the elders and infirm were armed with crude spears. Fortunately, the day's crafting had left the tribe well-supplied.
Chen Xu assigned positions: the seasoned hunters by the fire, ready to fight; the others tended the blaze, feeding it to keep the towering flames between them and the approaching gorillas. Survival depended on both fire and force.
Under the strengthened inferno, the mountain top glowed as though daylight had returned. The forest below, momentarily quiet, soon erupted. Branches snapped, a massive, shadowed shape emerged: a four-meter-tall gorilla, moving with near-perfect stealth. Its injuries were grotesque—torn flesh, blood-soaked fur, and a gaping wound across its massive abdomen revealed the strain it had endured to reach the summit.
Chen Xu's breath caught. Even the mightiest among them had never suffered so visibly, yet here it was: a warrior of raw, primal strength, testing the limits of both its body and his tribe's defenses.
The battle for the summit had begun.