009 The First Wave of Team Battle: The Hunt for the Shirin Family!

The sky was shrouded in gray, dull and devoid of light, and the distant horizon remained cloaked in darkness.

On the western side of Horseshoe Mountain Heights lay the entrance to the rat tribe’s camp. Small-bodied figures, covered in black fur, lined up and poured out through a doorway less than two meters high. Among them were lumberjacks, farmers, hunters, and stone gatherers, but today they all shared a single identity: warriors of the Andes Rat Tribe.

Yang Jie marched at the front, wielding a rough wooden staff, his body wrapped in vines like the others. From above, one could see a dense mass of vine-clad rats, numbering between four hundred and five hundred. Many had never seen battle before, mere peasants summoned by the tribe’s urgent call, yet they all stepped forward without hesitation.

The rat tribe’s leaders were positioned throughout the ranks, maintaining order and discipline. In this subtle way, a simplified leadership structure took shape. The entire rat contingent moved north along the banks of the Tam River, and after less than an hour’s march, they caught sight of the towering figures of the Thunder Dragon family.

Having set out early, the rats arrived while the sky was still dim. Five adult Thunder Dragons and two juveniles appeared in Yang Jie’s view—a formidable presence on this vast prairie, unmatched and unchallenged. No creature dared provoke them.

The dragons slept deeply, huddled together, as dawn had yet to break. Hundreds of meters away, Yang Jie and the rat tribe leaders gathered in small groups, discussing their plans.

“We’ll proceed according to yesterday’s strategy… first this… then that… finally, this… Is everyone clear?”

“Yes!”

“Understood!”

“Chief, rest assured!”

“Prepare for action. Stay alert—this battle will determine the tribe’s future.”

“For the tribe!” came the rallying cries, bold and resounding, echoing through the ranks.

With mutual encouragement, the rat warriors brimmed with confidence for the coming fight.

The rats dispersed. Shuke, Wendy, the Billy brothers, and several other leaders each led dozens of rats to their designated positions, while Yang Jie began coordinating their preparations.

An hour passed.

On the western side of the Northen Plain, along the Tam River…

For the Thunder Dragon family, today began like any other—a refreshing, cool morning. Since settling on the prairie, their days had been carefree: sleep until naturally awake, eat all day, then sleep again, repeating in endless contentment.

Yet today, something was amiss. The air seemed tainted with the scent of burning.

Young Bell was the first to notice. His head felt hazy, and he soon opened his eyes. To his shock, the once lush vegetation was now ablaze, a sea of fire rising a hundred meters away, black smoke swirling and encircling his family.

“Something’s wrong! This is bad!”

“Mom, Dad, brother, sister, Uncle Monte, Aunt Lily—wake up, everything around us is burning!”

“Stop shouting, we heard you,” muttered Grelick Shilling, the clan chief, as he stirred, annoyed, still nestled beside his wife Mary.

“What’s all this fuss so early?” Grelick grumbled, but the acrid smell soon pierced his senses, jolting him awake. He looked around and saw that he and his family were surrounded by flames, the circle tightening.

“Everyone, wake up! Quickly!” Grelick shouted, frantically nudging the sleeping dragons.

“What’s going on?” Monte Shilling, Grelick’s brother, awoke. His reaction was even more dramatic; usually indecisive, he relied entirely on Grelick.

Family members roused one after another.

“Darling, do something!” Mary urged her husband, pushing him anxiously. Both families looked to Grelick, their burdens pressing heavily upon his shoulders.

“Don’t panic, everyone. We’ll be fine,” Grelick tried to reassure them, though he had no real plan. He had never faced such a crisis, and his words were mere platitudes born of their peaceful lives.

An uneasy atmosphere swept through the Shilling family as they fully awakened.

“Dad, don’t worry. We’ll find a way,” young Bell comforted his flustered father.

“Don’t worry, my child,” Grelick said, nuzzling Bell’s head. He stretched his neck, searching the surroundings, soon spotting the Tam River flowing not far to the west.

“The river!” Grelick exclaimed, inspiration striking like a director finding his shot. “There’s a river to the west—the fire is less intense there. Follow me and break through.”

The dragons quickly agreed. But just then, Bell, ever alert, voiced his doubts. “Dad, something feels off. The fire is only around us—like a trap.”

The youngest expressed his suspicion.

“Silly child, what are you thinking? There are no large predators here, no enemies. Those rats on the highlands are nothing; they always scurry away when they see us. Don’t worry.”

“I just think it’s strange…”

“You’re still young; trust your father. We’ll protect you,” Mary said, nuzzling Bell.

“Haha, Bell, you coward—afraid of a little wildfire,” teased Hannah, Bell’s sister. Newly grown, she brimmed with confidence, loving adventure and curious about the unknown. At that moment, she felt invincible.

“Mom, Dad, I feel dizzy…” said the frail Ram, Monte’s son and Bell’s cousin. Lack of exercise had left him weak.

The Thunder Dragon family consisted of two households: Grelick, Mary, Bell, and Hannah; and Monte, Lily, and their youngest, Ram.

Monte, worried as Ram gasped for breath, urged Grelick. “Brother, make a decision—my son can barely breathe!”

Had they been calm, the deception would have been clear. But the Shilling dragons, sheltered from hardship, were now gripped by panic.

Looking at the roaring flames, Grelick drew a deep breath.

“Follow me—head west to the river!”

Bell wanted to protest, but his youth and status meant his warnings went unheard. He could only sigh in resignation.

Across the vast Northen Plain, two hundred meters east of the Tam River, a herd of Thunder Dragons charged toward the water.

The ground trembled. Grelick led the way, followed by Monte, Lily, Mary, and the younger dragons shielded between them.

Beyond the fire, near the river’s sloping banks, Yang Jie felt the tremors intensify, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation.

Behind him, hundreds of Andes wild rats crouched in the grass, their eyes fierce, fixed on Grelick and the charging dragons.

“They’re coming. My dear tribesmen, prepare yourselves!”

Tension, anxiety, excitement, and fear mingled with the quaking earth. Some rats were taut with nerves, others steadfast, some indifferent, yet others trembled uncontrollably.

Yet not a single rat faltered or fled. Armed with crude weapons—wooden clubs, stone axes, slings, and even farming tools—they knew this was a battle for survival, dictated by nature’s harsh law.

“Today, the Northen Plain will see blood,” Old Gill murmured, glancing at his nervous sons. Facing such formidable foes on their first battlefield, the pressure was immense.

The survival battle between the Andes wild rats and the Shilling Thunder Dragon family was about to begin.