The old monkey, basking in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy of ancient oak trees, savored chilled fruits and a cup of flame wine. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead, carrying the sweet scent of ripe berries and wildflowers. The air was filled with the sounds of the forest: the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the distant murmur of a babbling brook.
Suddenly, a young monkey burst in, his eyes wide with fear, his voice trembling with panic. "Great-grandpa, great-grandpa, it's not good, the witch is back!" At the mention of "witch," the old monkey shuddered and sat up, scanning the surroundings frantically. His fur stood on end, and his eyes darted nervously from side to side.
Aflra's voice echoed from above, "No need to look around, I'm right here." The old monkey looked up to see Aflra perched gracefully on a sturdy branch, her figure outlined against the bright blue sky. She held a vine-woven rope, her fingers wrapped tightly around it. With a casual flick of her wrist, Aflra snapped the rope against a tree, creating a loud "crack" that echoed through the forest, startling the birds and small animals nearby.
The old monkey felt his heart sink and said ingratiatingly, "I wonder what brings you here, Your Excellency?"
Aflra demanded sternly, "Tell me! Why did you poison the wine?"
The old monkey looked bewildered, having never poisoned any wine. Aflra frowned, observing that the old monkey seemed genuinely unaware of any poisoning. The old monkey pondered for a moment, then countered, "If I truly had poisoned it, why are you unharmed?"
Aflra explained gravely, "A child who drank this wine had rosy cheeks, became dizzy, spoke nonsense, and eventually fell into a deep sleep. What else could it be but poisoning?"
The old monkey scratched his head while the young monkey whispered, "Perhaps he just got drunk?" The old monkey's eyes brightened, and he realized, "Your Excellency, that's not poisoning, it's drunkenness."
Aflra looked doubtfully at the old monkey, "Drunk? I don't read much, don't try to deceive me. What exactly does being drunk entail?"
The old monkey, scratching his head again, decided to demonstrate. He had a young monkey named Maodan drink a barrel of wine. Excitedly, Maodan began to drink, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. He didn't even finish half before showing signs of intoxication—breathing out fire, burping loudly, staggering around clumsily, picking up a stick and dancing with it wildly, shouting nonsensically, and even breathing fire towards the old monkey, singeing his fur.
The old monkey, enraged and embarrassed, kicked Maodan over. With bloodshot eyes, Maodan picked up a stick and started wildly striking the old monkey, who fled yelling, "Your Excellency, save me, this one's gone mad from drinking!"
Aflra leaped down from the tree, effortlessly deflecting Maodan's stick with a graceful movement of her hand and striking him with a chop on the neck, causing Maodan to fall into a drunken sleep. The old monkey wiped his brow and explained, "Your Excellency, this is what being drunk looks like."
Aflra pondered, "But why are they different?"
The old monkey explained, "Everyone acts differently when drunk. Take Maodan, for instance, he tends to become rowdy when intoxicated."
Nodding, Aflra kicked Maodan's other buttock, mimicking the old monkey's action, causing the old monkey's eyes to twitch as he inwardly mourned for Maodan.
Aflra said, "In that case, I shall take my leave."
The old monkey breathed a sigh of relief, saying, "Your Excellency, let me see you off."
Aflra thought for a moment, "There's no need to see me off, but send four more barrels of wine with me. You wouldn't let me return empty-handed, would you?"
The old monkey's face turned bitter, but he dared not refuse and agreed. He was already sending 20 barrels of wine to the mountain monthly, and now he had to send Aflra four more, sighing inwardly. Before this formidable witch, he could only resign himself to his fate.
Little feet splashed into the crystal-clear water, their tiny footprints shimmering in the sunlight like sparkling jewels. Fish darted around the child's feet, chasing the bubbles she created, and she giggled, her laughter echoing through the forest. She called to Aflra, "Sister, come play!"
Aflra was about to agree when she suddenly frowned and looked into the distance. The vibrations from the dense forest alarmed her. "Little one, come up, let's go back," Aflra said seriously. Seeing Aflra's stern expression, the child knew this was not a joke and reluctantly got out of the water. Aflra picked her up, pinched her small nose playfully, and dodged the child's protests, "Sister, don't pinch anymore, it'll get flat."
Back in the cave, Phoebe and Kelly seemed content to stay put today. Aflra called back Ex, who was still outside collecting firewood, and instructed them, "I have to go out for a while. It's not safe outside today, so don't leave the cave, understood?" The two children nodded vigorously. Aflra then instructed Phoebe and Kelly to watch over the cave before swiftly departing.
Aflra headed to the lair of the anthropomorphic spiders to inquire about the situation. "Many adventurers have entered White Fang Mountain?" Aflra frowned and asked, "What could possibly drive them to such madness?"
"Is it even a question?" The spider leader said angrily, "A few days ago, Alex's subordinate, the wolf witch, led thousands of wolves out of the forest to capture a noble lady. These adventurers are clearly here to rescue her. Alex also ordered us to block those adventurers, clearly wanting us to be the cannon fodder."
The spider leader, well aware of the power of adventurers, decided to defy orders and hoped the adventurers would kill Alex. Aflra thought for a moment and requested, "Please tell me, where are the adventurers mostly gathered?"
The spider leader breathed a sigh of relief and told her that going downstream along the creek would lead her to them. Aflra followed the creek, her ears tuned to the sounds of the forest. Soon, she sensed the chaotic vibrations ahead.
She concealed herself and approached stealthily, her movements as silent as a shadow. Soon, she heard the sounds of battle: the clash of swords, the grunts of warriors, and the roars of the ogres. Moving swiftly through the trees, she spotted the combat: eight humans were locked in fierce combat with three ogres. Several piles of minced meat on the ground indicated that there had been more than eight humans to start with.