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

Northwest? Isn't that where the town center is located?

I assumed that, following the pattern of the Calabash Brothers rescuing their grandfather, the approaching force would be cavalry, but judging from the direction they were coming, it seemed to be the lord's elite troops. This situation was not good; those elite soldiers far surpassed the strength of the troops before me, and in a real fight, they would have almost no chance to fight back.

I tossed my steel halberd at them and said in an unyielding tone, "Take my weapon and surround me. If you don't put on a good show, you're all dead!"

The commander addressed his men in a stern voice: "Crossbowmen, form a circular formation; armored infantry, form three columns. Draw your weapons and await my orders!"

My participation in this charade is their pledge of allegiance to me. I'm not worried at all about them turning against me or plotting against me, because they all seem to understand one thing—unless they side with me, their fate is certain death…

Chapter 354 A Dead End

When the lord's elite troops from the Loader's Territory arrived on the battlefield, I found that the situation was already extremely out of control.

In the grand venue, where blood and limbs were scattered everywhere, two sides were silently confronting each other, yet the silence was unusual.

The once formidable town garrison had been reduced to near collapse. The last thirty-odd men, armed and panting, warily watched the terrifying enemy before them. Among them, only three crossbowmen remained, while twenty-seven or twenty-eight armored soldiers, wielding large machetes, formed two concentric circles, effectively trapping the invaders inside.

The once ferocious invaders were now lying motionless against a rock, their fate unknown. They were surrounded by a staggering number of corpses and bloodstains, suggesting that a horrific battle had taken place there before they collapsed from exhaustion.

In the end, what took the intruder's life didn't seem to be a single, deadly attack. His entire body was covered in countless arrows of varying lengths, which pierced through the gaps in his plate armor and pierced his flesh, slowly taking his life as his vitality waned.

"You killed him?"

After the leader of the elite troops, dressed in ghillie suits, led his men to approach the battlefield, they immediately advanced in skirmish lines, forming small groups of three or five to cover each other, gradually eliminating the risks along the way before finally reaching the town's garrison.

The town's commander, though exhausted, showed no sign of swaying as he stared intently at the intruder before him: "Uncertain... but he's been silent for the past five minutes..."

The leader of the elite troops waved his hand, and the combat teams behind him quickly rushed forward. The two teams, a total of eight men, surrounded the corpse in front of them with guns and opened fire without hesitation.

Even at extremely close range, the bullets they fired still bounced off the front of the plate armor, failing to cause any injury. They then immediately changed tactics, starting to fire at the point where the arrows were embedded, instantly tearing open the wound and widening the area where the arrows had struck, but still failing to penetrate the armor.

Finally, a brave pioneer rushed forward and ripped off the stone war mask from the invader's head, revealing a bloodied and unrecognizable face.

At that moment, the leader of the elite troops noticed that the town's garrison troops beside him all took a step back, and the commander closest to him even gasped.

The survivors present held their breath for a moment, fearing that the ferocious figure in front of them would revert to his original form, slowly rise from the ground, and stir up bloodshed once again as if waking from a deep dream.

This aura even affected his elites, with several of them making small, evasive movements, as if they were about to tactically roll to the side at the slightest provocation.

This is not a good sign. For an invincible team, there is now fear of a lone intruder! And this fear is not of reverence or faith in their leader, but of an enemy they cannot defeat!

"Shoot him!"

He had initially intended to approach and verify the deceased's identity, but the increasingly tense atmosphere around him made it seem as if even firing a gun wouldn't break the silence. In this environment, his first thought was to eliminate the person in front of him; he had to shoot, no matter what!

Gunshots rang out again, this time undoubtedly aimed at the weakest point—the head.

They carried 7.62x39mm semi-jacketed soft-point bullets before setting off. The jacket of the soft-point bullets had been removed, exposing part of the lead core. The purpose was to cause the bullet to fold outward and break upon impact with a soft target, creating a larger wound. Its lethality was not as good as that of semi-jacketed hollow-point bullets, but its accuracy was slightly better.

Thus, a dozen or so rifle bullets fired in rapid succession accurately and mercilessly struck the victim's head, shattering his skull into countless fragments. The headless corpse fell uncontrollably into the dust, with no chance of survival.

For some reason, when he heard the town's guard commander let out a long sigh of relief beside him, a question finally surfaced in his mind.

"Are you sure he's the intruder?"

The leader of the elite troops began to speak sternly, his gaze as sharp as steel needles piercing the commander. His personal guards swarmed forward, raising their guns to aim at the surviving defenders.

But the commander in front of him seemed oblivious to the overwhelming malice, staring blankly at the headless corpse, and suddenly removed his dusty helmet, revealing a face that was younger than anyone could imagine.

The features on this face are unremarkable and casually arranged, with nothing particularly praiseworthy on their own. However, when placed on this angular and resolute face, it inspires a sense of genuine trust, as if he were a towering mountain, whose will could not be shaken by countless years.

The town's garrison commander muttered something in an unknown language until a bead of sweat slid down his forehead, past his nose, and onto the ground. Only then did he truly come to his senses and shout, "Dead! He's finally dead! Of course it's him! Look at his armor, could it be fake?!"

Upon hearing this, the leader of the elite troops pondered for a moment, looking at the indestructible plate armor and carefully analyzing the situation before him.

Although he did not go to examine the deceased's face in person, the equipment he was wearing was definitely not fake, otherwise how could plate armor withstand close-range rifle fire?

Since his weapon had vanished and his protective armor could no longer shield him, the madman's death was inevitable.

"How did you kill him?" the leader of the elite troops asked cautiously. His biggest question was how these troops armed with melee weapons had managed to eliminate the demon before them. This invader was someone they considered difficult to deal with.

The town's garrison commander looked at him with a serious expression, glancing around at his heavily damaged troops. "If he hadn't been careless and underestimated us, and hadn't tried to wipe us out while we were feigning defeat and fleeing, I wouldn't have been able to ambush him with crossbowmen, successfully restrain his movements with swordsmen and shieldmen, and finally break through the gaps in his armor to launch the attack..."

“This is no easy task; you’ve even exceeded the lord’s expectations!” The leader of the elite troops exclaimed, then looked with some doubt at the trembling slaves not far away. “Strange, how did so many slaves escape? Are there usually so many commoners here?”

"This was all released by that intruder! Before he died, he was like a mad dog, biting the guards in front of him to death and chasing down almost all of my crossbowmen..."

He was about to take a step forward when he stumbled and nearly fell in front of the leader of his elite troops. Fortunately, an armored soldier dropped his machete and rushed to help him, preventing a fatal head-on fall.

Even the leader of the elite troops couldn't help but reach out and support the young man who had fought so hard in front of him, and finally loudly issued the order.

"Fire signal flare! Danger cleared!"

Chapter 355 Realistic Acting

Upon hearing their leader's words, the elite troops of the elite force began to lower their guard, and one of them took out a specially made signal flare from his bag and began to load it.

The leader of the elite troops looked at the young man before him, feeling a surge of emotion. After issuing the order, he couldn't help but exclaim, "You are one of the most talented people I have ever met... If you had been born in another part of the faction, I would definitely have recruited you into my army!"

The town's garrison commander refused his subordinates' help and slowly straightened his back. "Sir, there's no need to say that. I know I can't achieve my wish here. After all, I'm just a native of this territory, without the backing of any faction..."

The leader of the elite troops sighed coldly, turned his face away, and continued to order his men, "Go and bring back the slaves. We've caused enough trouble today; it's time to go back."

Upon receiving the order, the elite troops lined up and went to carry out the mission of trapping the enemy, while the survivors of the town's garrison also went to help, leaving only one guarding the commander.

At that moment, out of the leader's sight, the town's garrison commander's previously poker face suddenly took on a meaningful look, and he added in a low voice, barely audible, "Otherwise, I wouldn't have made up my mind to pledge allegiance to that sir... You agree, sir?"

…………

At this moment, both sides' men were escorting slaves to the edge of the city wall, pointing their guns at the lowly people who dared to escape, and occasionally kicking those who lagged behind.

Following prior orders, the elite troops fired five shots in succession, confirming that the lord could see the signal from the top floor of the hall.

After all, this is no joke. If the lord hadn't received the message that the crisis was over, a high-explosive shell would have turned everyone present into dust!

In a scene where signal flares contain several materials such as combustible metals, oxides, and adhesives, and where magnesium and aluminum powders generate temperatures of several thousand degrees and emit dazzling light when burning, the leader of the elite troops suddenly had a strange expression. Just as he was about to turn around to check on his subordinates' actions, he felt the oppressive feeling of a cold suit of armor approaching his side.

"Disarm and you will not be killed."

He wondered if the man in front of him had suffered a mental breakdown due to the casualties of his men and was now talking nonsense.

The man who approached was the town's garrison commander, who had been in a daze just moments before. Now, with a stern and obnoxious expression on his face, he held a machete to the man's neck.

At the same moment, a commotion suddenly arose among the slaves being escorted by the elite troops and the town's garrison. Adhering to the principle that the lower ranks should do the dirty and tiring work, the elite troops would never stoop to dealing with these lowly people, especially since they were covered in dust and filth.

Therefore, the survivors of the town's guards naturally took on the role of suppressors, brandishing machetes to intimidate any troublemakers. Due to the disparity in numbers, one town guard often had to deal with two or three slaves, kicking them to the ground and beating and verbally abusing them relentlessly.

The members of the elite troops watched with satisfaction as these people fought amongst themselves, casually fired two shots into the air as a warning, and then turned to continue clearing the way.

A town guard pretended to beat a slave in front of him. At that moment, his figure blocked the view of a less filthy slave. As the two crossed paths, the terrified slave, who was covering his head, suddenly pulled out a crossbow from his pocket, and a bolt flew out from an unexpected corner!

Similar figures appeared simultaneously in many directions. The less dirty slaves and armored soldiers, as if they had coordinated countless times, unleashed an astonishing attack, with most of the crossbow bolts piercing the necks of the elite troops with precision and ruthlessness.

At the same time, the armored soldiers rushed forward, brandishing their machetes to behead the wounded, and snatched the rifles from their hands, throwing them aside. The crossbowmen quickly stepped forward to take them, standing in the center of the field with a crossbow in one hand and a rifle in the other!

The situation was so sudden that even the elite of the elite troops had not anticipated it, and thus were caught off guard. Eight or nine out of ten were successfully attacked, and only a few lucky ones escaped because of the guards' tension. They began to fire wildly with the arrows in their bodies, and the scene instantly descended into chaos.

"You traitors!"

The leader of the elite troops gritted his teeth as he stared at the commotion in the distance, his eyes gleaming with a chilling, predatory light. "Do you want to die?! Do you think you can leave this territory alive?!"

I saw that the four or five elite troops in the distance, relying on their powerful firepower and excellent coordination, were also causing considerable casualties. Fortunately, they did not linger in the battle. After wounding seven or eight enemies and killing four or five who tried to get closer when the situation was not good, they immediately controlled the consumption of ammunition and retreated to their leader's location while covering each other.

If such elite troops were to engage in a head-on confrontation, they would probably defeat these cold weapon troops in less than a round.

"Of course I can live. Since I was able to come in alive, I can leave alive, and I can even take these people with me. What do you think?"

I took off my helmet, staring intently at the leader in front of me, my tone ambiguous.

"It's you! You're still alive!" His tone was even angrier. "I knew something was wrong! You bastard!"

I chuckled dismissively and shifted my body slightly—wearing this ill-fitting armor was truly uncomfortable. Fortunately, my strategy was brilliant; I dealt with the thirty-odd elite troops who came by surprise.

That's right, the leader's guess was correct. The corpse was indeed one I found, dressed in my armor. To mislead them, I even personally stuck a bunch of arrows into the corpse, making it look like a hedgehog.

The leader before me was extremely suspicious. He almost went up to check my face at first and saw through my scheme. Fortunately, I had a backup plan, Plan A—to use the tense atmosphere to force him to shoot me. If he still didn't fall for it, I had Plan B—to have the commander rush forward to destroy the evidence—but this was more deliberate and easier to be discovered.

Those crossbowmen who were originally well-organized were mixed into the slaves by me, and at the same time, I suppressed those damned weird slaves so that they would laugh and give themselves away.

The forty crossbowmen, dressed in dirty clothes and deliberately made to look disheveled, were completely inconspicuous among the hundreds of slaves. Only the armored soldiers who had fought alongside them for a long time could recognize them. At this moment, the key to my risky move was to rely on the forty crossbowmen and thirty-seven armored soldiers who had been secretly arranged to carry out a brilliant coordinated attack.

Well, at first I didn't have high hopes for this plan. I just wanted to put on a show, have them surround me and pretend I was dead, so that I could launch a surprise attack when the enemy came forward.

As a result, the town's garrison commander confidently told me that his plan was even more perfect, and that he had great confidence in the quality of his soldiers—their combat skills might not be as good as those of the elite, but their acting skills would definitely be superior!

So where did you find these actors? Hengdian World Studios?!

Chapter 356 Provocative Actions

"I'll be directing the next scene. You can go to the side and get your lunchbox."

I decisively issued the declaration of usurpation, drove away this guy who had orchestrated this whole charade of betrayal, and prepared to begin my performance.

I could think of everything else, but I never expected this guy with thick eyebrows and big eyes to betray the revolution so skillfully. It seems that even the unlucky guy in front of me didn't expect that either.

"I hope you will consider the consequences of your actions. The shelling just now was only a delay, not an end. If we do not continue to send signals, the lord will resume shelling."

As the situation deteriorated completely, the leader of the opposing elite troops calmed down and reverted to his ruthless ways. He shoved aside the town's garrison commander and stared at us with fierce eyes.

I reached out to stop the commander from retaliating—you're overacting. After what he just said, I don't believe you'd dare fight him. Artillery fire! Artillery fire! Think about it carefully!

"Is this your last resort? You're really desperate."

I walked up to him with a cold smile, meeting his gaze without flinching.

“I really didn’t expect that someone would betray this territory in such a short time and collude with the invaders.” The leader of the elite troops said to me, but his eyes remained fixed on the traitor in front of him.

The traitor who had just turned against us retorted without hesitation: "Betrayal? Do you think the way this territory treats us is commensurate with the efforts we've put in?"

He grabbed a crossbowman nearby and slapped his armor, making it clatter loudly: "You all have the best camouflage, bunny hats, tactical backpacks, combat uniforms, and faction-supplied assault rifles and ammunition, but look at what we have? Low-grade steel armor, makeshift melee weapons from workshops, and hand-stitched leather armor! Even this crossbow, which is a far cry from the best available crossbow, was only approved after we begged and pleaded!"

The leader of the elite troops said with a mocking expression, "I knew you natives had no sense of gratitude. Not only do you not know how to be grateful, but you also dare to complain? Don't you realize that if we hadn't come here, you would still be rats in the desert, fighting over things you find in the ground! Before you say these things, don't you even consider whether you deserve to be here?"

Upon hearing this, the traitor suddenly said angrily, "We're not worthy? When we started training at three in the morning, did anyone say we weren't worthy? When we were blocking the city gates in formation during the attack, did anyone say we weren't worthy? When we risked total annihilation to come here, did anyone say we weren't worthy? Why is it that in your mouths, we town guards don't deserve to live!"

I glanced at the traitor and suddenly asked, "Take a break. Although it's not a very appropriate question for me, I just want to know the answer: As the town guards here, your families should all be here, right? If you surrender to me, aren't you afraid of being retaliated against?"

Before the traitor could finish speaking, he was interrupted by the leader of the elite troops, who directly answered my question: "They have no families anymore. These bastards are war orphans collected from the town. They have been trained separately to cultivate their loyalty. Although some town residents have been incorporated into the ranks, they are all conscripts, and their service ends in three years. Only the main force are regular soldiers."

A war orphan? No wonder this guy betrayed us so brazenly; he's probably been harboring resentment for a long time.

“Then I understand. This person has actually made their meaning quite clear, but the reasons behind it are not convenient to explain too explicitly.” I patted the commander on the shoulder and said earnestly, “I recommend you read a few books; you’ll understand after you’ve read them.”