You are my comrade, and by virtue of that bond, both your expertise and experience are very much within the realm of 'my business'. [ —no sooner than the words fall from Sion's lips, his knuckles meet with fallen rock which seems not to transfer his gentle knocks and their resounding vibrations. Good, then, the removal of the stone and others surrounding will likely have no great affect upon the hollows themselves: if any other should tread through this passageway, they'll not find themselves as trapped as one (1) easily vexed man of scripture. ]

What's more, you underestimate me. [ Which, truth be told, is an easy thing. Sion is young—no more than twenty years—and unassuming, gentle in all things and marked as an oddity only by the ever-present (divine) aura which shrouds him. ]

Please, draw back, and away from the cave-in. I will be causing a brief disturbance to your right.

[ It happens quickly, then, in a precise economy of motion: falling back a handful of steps himself, Sion eyes his target (a boulder of fairly impressive size—once gone, it would provide space enough for Sanzo to crawl through), then surges forward to see its surface met with a kick. A kick which has the boulder freed its place in the blink of an eye, the rock sailing back (and hopefully not into Sanzo himself???) before landing with a far-away thud which sees a dusting of shale fall from the ceiling above. ]

You were saying something about a pick-axe...?

[ And so: the story ends with the monk being saved by a God?! The irony. ]