Chapter 22: The Rising Storm

Led by young Billy, the ratfolk produced hemp ropes as thick as a baby's arm. With their current manual capabilities, this was already the utmost limit of their craftsmanship. From the ranks stepped several robust and youthful ratfolk, their faces still marked by innocence, yet their resolve unshaken as they marched onto the battlefield.

Among them was Karl, the third son of old Gill. Together with the other young ratfolk, Karl wrapped the hemp rope around his waist, tying a secure knot. After the preparations were complete, the group of youths, ropes fastened tightly about them, charged toward the Tyrannosaurus Boss.

Some circled the dinosaur’s legs in serpentine movements, winding the rope tightly around its limbs. Others attempted to climb up its tail, only to be flung skyward by a single powerful sweep. Several were crushed beneath its feet or swatted aside, their bodies reduced to pulp. Yet, immediately, another brave ratfolk would rush forward, untie the rope from the fallen, wrap it around their own waist, and continue the assault.

The most perilous task was to bind the dinosaur’s neck, a mission that fell to young Karl. Being old Gill’s son, he was a figure of some prominence within the tribe, and this brought immense pressure—he had to excel to be worthy of his lineage. To hide behind the lines as a clerk for a lifetime? He’d leave that opportunity to others.

Karl rolled across the ground and seized the dinosaur’s tail, clinging to it with his arms and legs like a gecko. Whenever the beast lashed its tail, he gripped tighter, holding on with all his might. When the dinosaur’s movements slowed or its tail ceased to thrash, Karl scrambled upward with all four limbs, climbing quickly.

It was a feat that drained his strength and kept his nerves taut. Soon, he was drenched in sweat, his back soaked through, yet there was still some distance to the dinosaur’s back. The higher he climbed, the fewer footholds there were, and a single misstep could send him plummeting. The rope wrapped around his waist pressed against his sweat-slicked body, making it hard to breathe.

“Grab my hand!” Above him, Victor gripped a spear lodged in the dinosaur’s back, reaching down with his other hand for Karl, who was on the verge of falling. The rope at Karl’s waist acted like a safety line, ever ready to catch him should he slip.

Karl noticed Victor overhead, but the dinosaur’s violent shaking made it nearly impossible to seize the opportunity. His strength was fading fast, his consciousness blurring, and parts of his body stiffened—the situation was dire.

Below, countless ratfolk warriors launched fearless attacks against the dinosaur, sacrificing themselves to buy precious time for the breakthrough team.

“There must be a way, surely there’s a way!” Karl’s weary eyes suddenly lit up with resolve as he conceived a strategy. He gripped the tail firmly with his legs, his right hand clutching the dinosaur’s skin so tightly his nails bent backward, ignoring the pain. With his other hand, he carefully untied the knot at his waist.

As the knot came undone, he felt his arm sink, the dozens of meters of rope now hanging solely from his hand, shifting all the strain from his waist to his arm.

“Catch!” Karl growled, hurling the rope upward. Victor, waiting on the dinosaur’s back, reacted swiftly, grabbing the rope’s end. The tremendous pull nearly dragged Victor down, but his own safety line saved him from being yanked off the beast.

Victor pulled up the rope with the help of the tribe, bringing both