There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

"Form ranks! Assemble the spear formation!"

It was clear that this group of soldiers were not militiamen guarding the city gate, but professional soldiers who had received long-term training. Under the commander's orders, they quickly changed formation, and gleaming gun barrels emerged from the group of fifty men, standing tall in my direction.

Then, the sound of crossbows being cocked rang out from the back row, followed by a whooshing sound as countless crossbows unleashed a dense rain of arrows.

"System notification: Hostile target detected. Entering counterattack mode."

The system's voice sounded so beautiful for the first time, and for the first time, I longed for a grand and epic battle.

I twirled my steel halberd, manipulating it with one hand into an impenetrable, watertight blur, easily deflecting incoming crossbow bolts. Then, gripping the halberd with one hand, I swung it in a full-moon arc, charging into the enemy ranks with immense force.

Although the wooden gate I just saw weighed a thousand pounds, that's only about half a ton. My normal strength, after being quantified, can now generate a force of two tons, which is equivalent to the force of four wooden gates.

The question is, even if the most powerful battle formation is assembled, can it withstand four wooden gates crashing down on them?

Of course not!

The heavily armored warrior on the right had just raised his shield to defend when he was struck by my halberd. The axe's powerful destructive force instantly pierced the shield, struck the metal can behind it, and sent him flying like a madman, his feet leaving the ground as he flew into the ranks behind him, clearing a space.

I seized the opportunity to infiltrate the enemy ranks, grabbed the heavily armored warrior... and the crossbowman behind him, crushed his head with one hand!

Chapter 322 The Strongest Contradiction

That's right, the colonist system still has some flaws in this regard.

Hatred will automatically lock onto the person closest to me who attacked me, and then I will go straight for them and eliminate them, ignoring any targets that are within easy reach nearby.

Fortunately, killing a couple of enemies while chasing them is a piece of cake for the colonist system. Otherwise, I'd become a brainless boss in the game, constantly getting taunted by hunters.

The crushed head oozed disgusting fluid, which mixed with gushing blood and smeared onto my armor, like a hastily painted graffiti on a white wall.

But this graffiti had a terrifying effect. I threw the headless corpse five meters away, turned around and looked at the other crossbowmen. A fierce killing intent spread wildly from behind the stone war mask, accompanied by the brutal killing method, instantly suppressing the entire scene.

But the next moment, the commander's order rang out again, "Armored Breakers, advance and surround! Attack!"

After the order was given, a group of heavily armored guards emerged from the crowd, each wielding a piercing hammer in one hand and a fine iron round shield in the other. The ten of them surrounded me from all sides, trapping me inside.

"Have you... heard of Lord Shaflin?"

My deep, hoarse voice suddenly rang out from behind the stone war mask.

The armored assault soldier directly opposite him was taken aback and replied in astonishment, "Never heard of it."

"Never heard of it... Then go die..."

I said coldly, but before I could attack, ten armor-piercing hammers swung at me simultaneously, striking various parts of my body.

I raised my steel halberd to block the single-handed hammer aimed at my head, then turned and twisted my waist, letting the other hammers strike my body.

"Boom..."

The dull thuds continued, like a group of construction workers swinging sledgehammers and shouting "Eighty, eighty!" as they smashed the building under demolition. From their grotesque and distorted features and heavy breathing, one could feel the malice emanating from their faces.

In the eyes of these well-trained soldiers, this situation had occurred countless times before.

Units wearing plate armor have high defensive capabilities. The armor, forged from a single piece of iron, not only provides more comprehensive protection, but also generally has a curved shape, making it slippery to the touch when attacked, causing many weapons to bounce off or slide away.

The armor-piercing hammer is like a giant tool hammer, with one end of the hammerhead being a bird's beak-like point and the other end being a flat hammer. When attacking, it can be used to smash people with the hammer end and peck people with the pointed end.

Especially when it strikes, this thing is extremely powerful. The hammer at the back acts as a counterweight, creating a great inertia. But in the face of a special armor-piercing hammer, no matter how strong your plate armor is, as long as the little hammer hits your chest, one blow will guarantee that you will have to rethink your life and become a hero again in twenty years.

The strongest shield will eventually give birth to the strongest spear; this has always been true.

A powerful attack meant a powerful recoil; the force of the shockwave erupted from the point of contact, rapidly traveling back along their arms, creating a distorted spectacle. I even saw saliva splatter from the two with the most exaggerated expressions.

The shock traveled along their spines to their heads, causing varying degrees of dizziness and tinnitus in the armored assault soldiers, and briefly plunging the world before their eyes into darkness.

When they recovered from their dizziness, they found the sounds around them unusually noisy, as if a thousand horses were galloping past. The clearest sound they could make out was the angry shouts of their companions.

"...Quickly...it's ineffective..."

“...You...stop me…”

"...Demon...run..."

Their doubts didn't last long before they were answered. Despite being attacked simultaneously by ten armored breachers, I remained standing unharmed, using one hand to parry two armor-piercing hammers with my halberd, while the remaining hammers struck me without any resistance.

Most armor is ineffective against this warhammer-shaped mace. According to some modern tests, not only against ancient armor, but even against modern bulletproof vests, the warhammer is a one-shot kill.

But I reached out and shoved the stunned armored assault soldier. Like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, the halberd pierced the crossbowmen behind them with precision and lethality. The halberd then swirled back, spraying bright red and cruel blood onto these dumbfounded men.

"You want to kill me. But you are already dead. Can a dead man kill someone?"

At this point, the crossbowmen and spearmen behind them had already begun to scatter and flee.

Even the attacks of the strongest close-range armor-piercing assault soldiers were ineffective; how could these people possibly withstand the attacks?

Their choice was correct.

When the first group of crossbowmen who ran out turned back to try to aim, they found that the armored assault troops surrounding them were twisted at an odd angle, their round shields shattered, and their breastplates bent to one side like straw blown by a strong wind.

The attacker remained in the position of holding his halberd back, wearing a hideous stone mask splattered with blood, his exposed mouth seemingly speaking something...

What I really meant was, "Your armor doesn't seem as tough as mine, so your lives are mine..."

What does 71% melee armor penetration mean? It certainly doesn't mean that when you kill 100 people, 71 will be pierced through while 29 will be unharmed.

As the armored breachers prepared to swing their hammers again, I gave them no chance.

This is supposed to be a turn-based game, but you want me to cheat and unleash combos and fiery attacks with every strike?

Although I was wearing plate armor, my movements were not hindered at all. The axe blade of the steel halberd had turned into a silver light, which could not be completely concealed even when I jumped in the scorching sun.

The 71% armor penetration rate ultimately translated into a terrifying, slicing attack that cut straight through their toughest breastplates.

Based on my final assessment, they were probably cut through about 70% of their bodies. But what is the fundamental difference between a person being cut through 70% and one being cut through 100%?

The answer is no difference, because they are both doomed.

All ten armored breachers had pierced their right sides, blood gushing from the wounds like water, and they were panting like bellows. The sound was their lungs struggling in their final moments due to lack of oxygen, their tracheas severed. But the more they struggled, the faster the air they exhaled was replaced by fragments of organs and blood.

It looks exactly like a fish that has lost its water.

The instant I withdrew my steel halberd, those who should have died on the spot finally breathed their last, falling to the dust like broken scarecrows.

Looking at the corpses scattered on the ground, I solemnly gave them my final lecture: "Remember my words, the more you try to take, the more you will lose. In your next life, be like your companions and run faster."

More and more hoofbeats gathered behind me, merging into a ceaseless, surging pulse. I knew without turning around that the warm-up was over, and the regular fighting force mobilized by the loader leader was finally about to be displayed before me.

Chapter 323 My Name is Seven

"Who exactly are you?"

A one-eyed middle-aged man approached me and asked a question in a curt tone. Behind him was a cavalry unit of no less than a hundred men, whose weapons were no longer limited to simple cold weapons, but were equipped with more firearms and swords, and whose demeanor showed a more arrogant and bloodthirsty air.

I straightened my armor, gripped my halberd, and strode forward, standing imposingly before the army. I asked in a loud voice, "Answer my question first... Has anyone heard of Lord Shafulin's name?!"

But in the eyes of the one-eyed middle-aged man, he saw a villain who calmly drew his knife and killed right in front of them, wearing a hideous Gothic armor, but with a savage and crude mask on his head, arrogantly ignoring his question and asking an absurd and nonsensical question.

"Intruder! This is not the attitude you should have!"

The one-eyed middle-aged man flew into a rage, raised his hand, and the cavalry behind him instantly loaded their bullets, aimed their guns, and waited for the next wave of his hand to give the order.

“I’m giving you one more chance. If you can’t explain yourself in a way that satisfies me, you’ll be riddled with holes! I swear in the name of Derek Bird, you won’t survive the next shot!”

I stared at him without backing down an inch, utterly displeased with this grumpy one-eyed man. I came here to find clues about the murderers and survivors of the massacre at Shisong Village. I had seen the cavalry behind me stir, and some people in the know were about to be exposed, but he shut them up with a single sentence, making them all focus on aiming. How was I supposed to track down the killer now?

“I have a habit of killing people who shoot at me, even if their guns are unloaded. Are you really prepared for that?”

My voice echoed softly, and I slammed my steel halberd to the ground, imagining myself as a ghost lingering before Hulao Pass, unleashing my killing intent to the fullest extent.

Since we can't reach an agreement, I'll just have to fight first.

A gunshot suddenly rang out from the cavalry, striking my chest armor with a crisp, loud clang. The force of the impact made me sway.

After all, the defending troops had already fled, and I was forced to exit the counterattack mode. This shot, whether out of tension or malicious intent, forced me back into a terrifying combat mode.

While the colonizer system possesses formidable combat capabilities, it suffers from an irreparable flaw—a lack of strategic thinking. It operates on the principle of attacking without regard to enemy numbers or location, seizing any opportunity before considering the next move. This mindless approach, once exposed, is easily exploited.

Therefore, only by instilling fear in the opponent can one plug some insurmountable loopholes. How to instill fear in the opponent? When you stand behind the enemy, and the enemy cannot see you but feels threatened, they will feel fear.

"Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang..."

The relentless gunfire erupted after the negotiations failed, turning into a hail of bullets flying towards me. But I had already found my rhythm. I swung my steel halberd forward, quickly deflecting the bullets aimed at my face, while the remaining bullets were caught in their path, clanging and clattering as they were blocked by my plate armor.

As it turns out, the defensive capabilities of this plate armor and the offensive capabilities of the steel halberd are both bug-level features produced by the system. They complement each other to form the strongest spear and shield, becoming my claws and teeth in the attack.

After firing a round of shots, the cavalry quickly dispersed and began firing freely, while javelins and stray arrows continued to rain down.

What terrified them happened: they discovered that the heavily armored thug in front of them, wielding a long halberd, moved with incredible speed, his armor making no extra sound as he followed the cavalry's footsteps, beginning a stealthy pursuit.

You want to wear me down with a mobile battle? You think my lack of endurance is a clear weakness? You believe your four legs are far superior to your two?

I'll break your common sense!

My body, which is digitized by the system, is not burdened at all by wearing this heavy plate armor, and even adding a cruel iron weapon would not be an unnecessary hindrance.

When I start running, that will be the day they die!

A cavalryman dressed in unique desert-style clothing was slowing down to aim and fire when I accidentally caught up with him. As he saw the halberd flashing past him and was about to spur his horse to escape, he felt the reins slip and his warhorse suddenly collapsed...

Before a warhorse could even let out its final cry, I cleaved it in two with a single blow. The rider on it instantly fell to the ground, and his long-barreled shotgun flew far away.

In the midst of the dazzle and confusion, he felt his head being gripped by a steel-like hand, and a sinister voice rang in his ear.

"Answer me... have you ever heard of Lord Shaflin?"

He writhed and struggled, trying to break free of my grip, but his attempts to jump and leap were futile, like a fish out of water. He cried out in panic, "What...what Shafulin...I've never heard of him!"

"Then you can go die."

My calm tone was like a judgment from hell; what happened afterward was no longer his concern.

The one-eyed middle-aged man was also riding a warhorse. When he saw me asking him a question with his eyes wide open, I crushed the poor guy's head with my left hand like I was crushing a watermelon, completely unconcerned that my body was covered in disgusting brain matter.

And this devil even grinned, searching for his next victim with his eyes.

I actually just gave an awkward laugh, expressing my dissatisfaction with the colonist system's grotesque, skull-crushing humor.

Just because my left arm armor is strong and tough enough, does that mean I have to use it to do such disgusting things?

Am I just going to leave this long steel halberd in my hand as a decoration?!

Bullets continued to rain down on my face, but the colonist system mysteriously deflected them, leaving only harmless attacks to be casually absorbed by my body. Armor absorbs, then structure absorbs—that's my defense!