The Sword Of The Fire Dragon

The Monkeys of the Abyss's Depths

"If Restu and Barda ask, just tell them the young man is dead, as you’ve seen. Now let’s leave this place!" Darsa said as he walked away from the edge of the hole.

His four companions followed Darsa's brisk pace, their minds still occupied by Topan’s death—a man who had always been with them.

Arya's body, however, lay unconscious after falling into the hole. The handsome young man slid through the long, slippery tunnel until he finally landed in a place filled with moss-like plants, slightly elongated but with a bluish-purple hue.

Towering trees reached upward, as if without end. Dozens of monkeys—clearly the inhabitants of this place—played cheerfully, swinging from the long roots that stretched all the way to the ground.

So engrossed were the monkeys in their play that they didn’t immediately notice the presence of a foreign figure, utterly different in appearance from them.

For a while, Arya’s body remained motionless. His clothes were torn in several places from scraping against rocks as he slid through the hole. Only the faint rhythm of his breathing hinted that life still lingered within him.

Eventually, the monkeys began chattering loudly to one another, realizing a human had entered their domain. As if on command, they gathered around Arya's body, their actions and expressions showing curiosity and confusion.

Shortly after, the cluster of monkeys parted, making way for a large monkey with a body the size of a normal human. The imposing figure approached with a crown-like structure made of roots adorning its head.

The large monkey crouched beside Arya and, after checking his pulse, spoke like a human: "Carry him to my hut!"

Several monkeys quickly moved to lift Arya's body. Skillfully swinging along the hanging roots, they carried him to a wooden hut perched atop a massive tree.

Carefully, the monkeys laid Arya on the wooden floor of the hut. Despite its location high in the trees, the hut's construction was meticulous, resembling human craftsmanship.

Not long after, the crowned monkey entered the hut, carrying a bundle of bluish-purple moss in one hand. His sharp gaze fixed on Arya’s still-unconscious form. After a moment, the monkey sighed deeply.

"After so long, another human has entered this place," he muttered softly.

The large monkey sat beside Arya and carefully applied the bluish-purple moss to the wounds on the young man’s back. Miraculously, once the wounds were fully coated, they closed up completely without leaving a trace—only dried blood marked where the injury had been.

The crowned monkey smiled faintly at the miracle before him. Although it wasn’t the first time he’d seen such a phenomenon, he hadn’t expected the moss to work on a human. For years, he and his kin had consumed the moss daily, using it not only for healing but also to extend their lifespan. It was no wonder that the monkey king and his people could live for thousands of years.

Two days later, Arya stirred, groaning as he opened his eyes. He sat up, scanning his unfamiliar surroundings. The pain in his back was completely gone, and when he touched the area, he found no trace of the wound.

"This is strange," Arya murmured, furrowing his brow. Not only was his recovery puzzling, but the place he found himself in was unlike anything he had ever seen.

"Where am I? Am I in Nirvana? But why does Nirvana look like this?" he muttered, scratching his head in confusion.

Eager to learn more, Arya stood and approached a door that was firmly shut. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he opened it, almost falling over the edge before grabbing the door to steady himself.

Before him stretched a dizzying height, revealing he was atop an enormous tree. He couldn’t imagine what might have happened if he had fallen.

Arya stepped back and closed the door tightly, sitting on the wooden floor to calm his racing heart. Just as he managed to regulate his breathing, the door suddenly opened from the outside.

Startled, Arya’s heart pounded again as the large, humanlike monkey entered the hut. Cornered by fear, the young man instinctively scooted back, clutching his knees and burying his face in them.

"Good to see you awake, young man," the monkey king said with a wide smile.

Gathering his courage, Arya lifted his head to look at the towering figure. "Who are you? How can you speak? Am I really in Nirvana?" he blurted out.

The monkey king remained calm despite the barrage of questions.

"I’ll answer your questions one by one," he said before sitting cross-legged in front of Arya. "My name is Sarwana. I am the king of the monkeys who dwell within this Panguripan Gorge. And no, you are not in Nirvana; you’re still alive."

Arya exhaled in relief. He had been certain he had died and ascended to Nirvana, especially after seeing a talking monkey.

"Now it’s my turn to ask. Who are you, and why are you here?" Sarwana asked.

Arya shook his head slowly. "I don’t know who I am or where I come from."

Taking a deep breath, Arya began recounting the events that had led him to Panguripan Gorge. Sarwana nodded repeatedly, listening intently to the young man’s story.