The bonfires of the Gray Stone Tribe painted the night sky red. Beastmen sang and danced while the aroma of meat stew wafted through the air.
Qiuqiu chased and played with the Pallas's cat and gray wolf cubs, his chubby face scrunched up into a smiling bun.
Su An'an gently stroked Seville's suddenly tense Wings. "What's wrong?"
"There's trouble!"
He shot into the air, his black and white Wings slicing through the moonlight and casting a massive shadow.
Seeing this, three avian Beastmen from the Gray Stone Tribe also took flight.
But when they saw the scene in the distance, they let out piercing screams:
"A beast tide! A Mutated Beast Tide is attacking our tribe!"
The sounds of celebration on the ground came to an abrupt halt.
Old Wolf immediately dropped to the ground, pressing his left ear to the earth. His face instantly turned deathly pale.
"We're surrounded on all sides—at least two thousand of them."
He shot back to his feet and roared at Manda:
