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

"My lord... something's wrong outside!" The gray-robed man knelt on the ground and replied with his head bowed.

Without even frowning, the lord ignored the servants on the ground, rose from his throne, and strode up to the second floor of the lord's hall. He entered the lower level of the bunker's turret and observed the distance through the telescope in the lookout port, where he witnessed a scene that chilled him to the bone.

In the slave plantation area, he saw a large group of black dots, like ants, moving towards the city wall. Judging from their numbers, they were not his elite troops, and they wouldn't abandon their merits to do something so incomprehensible.

After fine-tuning the camera, he saw a strange building next to him, stacked in a cone shape, with irregular edges and corners, yet with a relatively fixed appearance, making it easy to tell at a glance that it was man-made.

Upon closer inspection, the piled-up raw materials were none other than oval-shaped objects of varying sizes, resembling... human heads?!

He looked again and magnified the images through a high-powered telescope. The heads piled together all wore the distinctive headscarves of ghillie suits and had familiar face paint. Unfortunately, the once arrogant faces were gone, leaving only a pair of unseeing eyes, as if they were staring at their former employer through the telescope!

"what!"

The lord's face, which had been surgically altered, was expressionless, like that of a dead man, but his voice was filled with barely suppressed rage. Without even glancing at the cannons a second time, he had already arrived at the location of the emplacement and begun adjusting the artillery!

His heart, which had been as calm as a lake, was now like a bucket of gasoline poured on it, and a match thrown on top of it, filled with raging anger and the unseeing eyes of his men who had died.

He didn't know what had happened, nor where the town's guards were; all he knew was that this damned invader had to die! At that moment, he even understood the invader's words: "No one can bear my wrath!"

Because if this anger cannot be quelled, it will surely burn throughout the body, and may even burn the world to ashes before it is quelled!

Because this fortress lacks the original hydraulic rotating mechanism on its turret, the turret must be rotated by the gunner and loader at a constant speed while maintaining absolute horizontality. A complete rotation takes approximately 8 minutes and 13 seconds. If there is any tilting, the turret will not rotate at all.

Without the help of his subordinates and not trusting anyone else to enter, the lord of the loader's territory had to live up to his name and play two roles at the same time. He constantly fine-tuned the pre-set position, taking twice as long as usual to eliminate the effects of his shaky hands, set the perfect firing angle, and loaded a high-explosive shell.

High-explosive bombs typically consist of a steel casing filled with high explosives and a fuse. When the explosives are detonated by the fuse, the shattered casing breaks into numerous high-temperature, sharp fragments that scatter at high speed. These fragments and the shockwave are the main causes of casualties. They are powerful weapons capable of killing large numbers of unarmored targets. If they explode in a crowd, the shockwave and fragments will indiscriminately turn nearby people into sieves.

These special weapons were also customized by different factions, with the thickness of the projectile walls controlled during manufacturing depending on the target. For example, this high-explosive shell used to kill personnel has a thicker wall with grooves to create more fragments for personnel casualties!

The shell landed slightly worse than he had anticipated. Because it deviated from the expected trajectory, the high-explosive shell landed some distance from the crowd. This is a classic case of "a miss is as good as a mile," especially in ballistic calculations requiring such precision. The explosion only caused a brief uproar, sprinkling a dusty, earthy cumin-like powder on these damned people.

Damn it!

He cursed, trying to eliminate the interference of the clouds in front of him, and corrected the trajectory by the impact point of the high-explosive shell, so as to perfectly deliver the weapon into its intended position.

After a brief adjustment, he once again gained control of the familiar weapon, throwing himself wholeheartedly into his old buddy, as always, engrossed in the artillery.

The steel-clad armor is his skin, the cannon barrels of large-caliber artillery are his claws, and the smoke from the explosions is his breath. This lurking steel behemoth has become one with him. He seems to have shed his physical burdens, transforming into a ghost and merging intimately with the turrets and bunkers...

The movements became fluid and graceful again. If someone were nearby at that moment, they would surely be compelled to applaud and praise this wonderful performance, expressing their anticipation.

"Clap clap clap..."

Inside the airtight bunker, applause seemed to actually be ringing out. The sound waves struck the walls of the empty room and reflected off them, creating a continuous stream of sound, like a bustling theater.

"Who is it!"

The lord suddenly realized what was happening, drew his gun, and fired behind him, a reflex as natural as eating or drinking.

But the cold blade of the halberd had already pressed against his throat, and the gun barrel struck a blood-stained suit of armor without causing any damage...

"Want to take a gamble? Is your gun faster or my halberd?"

This time I wasn't wearing a mask. I looked at the lord in front of me with a cold smile and asked with great interest, "Now that both sides' strategies have reached the point of revealing their true intentions, there's no need to play mind games anymore. We just need to show our direct strength."

Coincidentally, I have a slight edge in this area.

Chapter 360 Talking and Laughing

The lord of the loader's territory twitched, as if a surge of anger within him, like magma erupting, rose upwards, seeped into his veins beneath his skin, and reached the surface. His grotesque, cobbled-together face seemed to have its meridians opened, almost regaining tenfold of its former power, allowing him to express a fierce, glaring expression.

Unfortunately, physical limitations meant that these cobbled-together faces—and it was even unclear whether they truly belonged to him—ultimately only displayed a strange expression that was neither a smile nor an anger.

"Tell me, what exactly happened..."

He took a deep breath, his Adam's apple bobbing rapidly. He removed his hand from the gun, slowly loosening his grip on the trigger, and regained his initial calm expression before asking me a question.

I enjoy dealing with people like that—rational and not emotional, understanding of pros and cons, and pragmatic; they wouldn't engage in pointless, self-destructive behavior at a time like this. Our game began before I even entered this territory and continues to this day, nearing its end. The twists and turns, the complexity of it all, are beyond the full comprehension of either of us.

In this situation, it's like two Go players who have played for three days and three nights, blocking, paralleling, pushing, climbing, closing, rushing, and jumping countless times. They have already gone through the opening, middle game, and finally reached the endgame. At this point, no matter how angry they are, they will not stand up and overturn the Go board in a rage.

In return, I put down the steel halberd in my hand, twisted my wrist and used my shoulder and elbow to thrust the weapon into the reinforced concrete floor again, making the small room vibrate.

...I'm not bragging, but the cement here is seriously substandard; it's the kind that crumbles if you scratch it with your hand. However, considering the remote location in the Gobi Desert and the difficulty of transportation, some minor cost-cutting is understandable.

"You mean those people at the gate?"

My eyes sharpened, and I made a throat-slitting gesture.

"I killed them all along the way. You dared to block my way when I was all so aggressive. Oh, by the way, I also killed those loyal troops you left in the secret room, so you can forget about anyone saving you."

"Not them, I mean the troops you sent out. How did you manage to wipe them all out?"

The lord remained unmoved, showing no remorse for the deaths of his loyal subordinates. All I could do was offer them three seconds of silence.

"Total annihilation? No way."

I shrugged, expressing my dissatisfaction with his assumption: "Do I look like such a ruthless person? I only killed a little over half of them; the rest have already sworn allegiance to me. Your core troops are all dead; I didn't leave a single survivor, so no one has betrayed you. You can rest assured about that."

The lord's tone suddenly took on a murderous glint: "So you mean the town's garrison has defected?!"

Did this guy just find out? His tone suddenly rose a few octaves, which startled me. What happened to our plan to negotiate calmly?

"Why are you yelling so loudly! Not just the town guards, but also their commander, that number one traitor is now my chief of staff. And that fat slave guard chief, I found out he's a fraudster... no, a master at attracting investment, I'm going to bring him back to help with the development."

"Are you really that comfortable with these traitors?"

The lord's voice was sinister, as if he were casting an ominous curse on me, "If they can betray me once, they can betray me again. They showed no gratitude for what I did for this territory, instead treating me as an enemy. Can such people really be trusted?"

"You think joining me is some kind of good thing? To be honest, I'm notoriously unpredictable. If I tell an employee to eat vegetarian food today and he eats meat instead, he'll be fired tomorrow for stepping into the office with his left foot first!"

"And another thing, don't try to sabotage me. You think I'm on the first level and you're on the fifth? Actually, I've been in the atmosphere for ages!"

I scoffed. Did you think I'd tell you that the colonist system could see relationship levels? How naive.

I continued, addressing the lord whose expression was shifting between anger and uncertainty: "From the moment you gave your speech praising your great achievements, I knew you thought you had rendered unparalleled service to this territory and could be above everyone else. But you truly don't understand human nature..."

I said to him sternly, “How can a king not understand people’s hearts! Do you think they want victory? They want a stable life? They want rules and systems? You are so wrong! From the moment we established ourselves in this territory, the needs of everyone in the territory have changed from peace to development. And the feudal system you have set up has blocked everyone’s path to advancement, just to ensure your high position!”

Hearing my criticism, the lord gritted his teeth and glared at me: "I advise you not to be so presumptuous! If you think you can trample on my authority at will, I will set the entire ammunition depot on fire and take you with me!"

I retorted without any hesitation: "When you trampled on that lord's dignity, didn't you ever think that I would come to seek revenge? If I am in the slightest danger, the weapons in planetary orbit will open fire instantly, and this planet will be buried with me!"

Anyone can talk big, but setting fire to an ammunition depot? I don't believe you would put an ammunition depot on the roof of your bedroom, displaying it at the most conspicuous high point in the entire territory, waiting for a thunderbolt to detonate it!

Upon hearing my words, the lord's face finally darkened. "You really came for this? And were the conditions you proposed before also true?"

I shook my head: "The past is the past, and my demands are definitely different now. My lord, now that you've played all your cards and I have no more tricks up my sleeve, it's about time we can talk about our terms frankly."

The lord of the Loader's Territory said gravely, "You've won today, but don't forget, I have an entire faction supporting me. If you kill me, the order I've established will collapse, and you'll take nothing with you! If you try to blackmail me with harsh conditions, our hatred will be truthfully revealed to the faction, bringing endless trouble..."

"I understand, you still want me to offer some reasonable terms, preferably something that will give you a way out?"

I scoffed. At a point like this, still trying to bargain? He didn't seem like a desperate loser at all. Admittedly, the faction behind him was indeed a powerful force, allowing him to act with impunity. But given time, I could build an even stronger team and give him a surprise.

"Alright, the first three conditions remain unchanged. I will take the slaves and followers with me, establish a free zone in the south, and retain the right to pursue them to the end. You must know these three points. They are dispensable to you now, so there is no need to bargain anymore."

After I held up three fingers, I smiled mysteriously, then held up a fourth finger, speaking in a gentle tone as I patted the heavy cannon in the bunker.

"The last condition is that you want to fire that shell we just fired, right at those guys."

Chapter 361 Aba Aba

"what?!"

The lord looked at me with a serious expression, as if he didn't understand what I was saying.

"Don't understand? The fourth condition is very simple: I hope you can use your unerring artillery skills to fire a shot at that city wall, opening a gate large enough for me to escape in a panic. What do you think, my lord?"

After hearing my explanation, he finally understood what I really meant.

This plan was already part of my calculations.

This guy is deploying troops to eliminate me in the town, at the furthest point from him. Therefore, he has contacted and dispatched the town's main forces and his elite troops, and even used the loader's chieftain's secret weapon—the bunker turret.

There were no problems with the plan, and I cooperated fully in performing the initial feint and ambush, but he still underestimated my abilities.

He probably thought I was really going to take away slaves, so he let me come here and gave me plenty of time to figure out the situation. But when it came to the last minute, he sent the town guards that I had crippled once to die and buy time.

Strategically, this move was correct: by using my inferior forces against the enemy's superior forces, I might gain an advantage, but he would definitely not lose. However, his disregard for the people's hearts led to the defection of the town's garrison.

The defection of these chickens doesn't mean much to me; all of them combined aren't enough for me to fight alone. However, for the overall strategy, I now have an extra piece that can be moved. I've gone from fighting alone to having a single soldier and can begin the next micro-management.

The lord before me was unaware of this, relying solely on previous information for analysis and strictly adhering to the plan, dispatching his main force to carry out the siege, attempting to trap me in one place.

That's not a problem at all. With the suppression of firepower from the elite troops, it's impossible for me to walk around carelessly and let bullets hit me. As long as the battlefield commander gives proper orders, they can completely trap me in one area with firepower.

The final step of the plan was a massive artillery barrage. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late; I was already at their mercy. Can even the toughest armor withstand intense heat and energy? Can even the sharpest weapon withstand explosions and shrapnel?

Unfortunately, the more meticulous the plan, the more vulnerable it is to flaws. In the second step of my Lord's Plan in the Loader's Territory, I already had a chance to turn the tide. Relying on my brilliant (not really) strategy, I ambushed the enemy and easily wiped out their elite forces with the town's garrison, achieving a brilliant victory against overwhelming odds!

Although this tactic should more accurately be called espionage, relying on the opponent's mental delusion to launch a sneak attack, it's similar in nature to stabbing someone in the groin, kicking them in the eye, or gouging them out during a handshake—both are methods of winning in an dishonest way...

But I don't care! Winning is justice!

It was this crucial maneuver that allowed me to keenly glimpse the dawn of victory. Through simple reverse thinking, I realized that this territory had three major forces: the weakest was subdued, the strongest was eliminated, and the cavalry was nowhere to be found. However, such forces are suitable for decisive battles and harassment in open fields, but they cannot form a formation in urban street fighting. Undoubtedly, they will be mostly wiped out by me, just like last time.

Having eliminated those three pieces, the final goal is the king-versus-king stage. I am an invincible warrior on the battlefield, capable of taking on ten thousand men single-handedly, while my opponent is a devastating weapon capable of annihilating everything within a radius of dozens of miles with a single cannon shot. In terms of strategic deterrence, both are evenly matched. However, in a long-range confrontation, I am actually at a disadvantage.

But since the enemy's forces have all been wiped out, why should I run away?

"My lord, have you made up your mind? Would you rather open the gate for me yourself, or leave a bunch of traitors here to cause trouble while you swagger out of the city with you, showing everyone your lordly prowess?"

I'm already saying this to their heart. If they don't agree, then I'll use their dignity as a broom to clear the way for them, so they can truly experience what it means to lose face.

…………

"Don't move! Everyone take cover near the crater! Reduce the risk of shrapnel damage!"

In the dangerous environment, both slaves and town guards felt a chill in their hearts, their eardrums ached, and their bodies ached from the shockwave.

The shells landed far away and didn't hit the unfortunate group directly, but shrapnel and dirt still flew around, adding wounds of varying sizes to their bodies. Their howls and screams instantly broke the silence.

In fact, they didn't know what they were yelling about, because their hearing was still paralyzed. They just subconsciously wanted to yell something to relieve their inner fear and pressure—although most of the people yelling were not injured.

Everyone present could sense that the first shot was a test firing and there was some deviation in the trajectory. However, when the next shell arrived, they wouldn't be so lucky!

The traitorous commander rolled twice on the ground and quickly approached the crater created by the explosion. Just as he was about to hide inside, he felt someone grab his leg from behind and pull him backward hard.

"Hey bro! Save me a seat!"

A chubby face covered in sweat and dirt appeared behind him. He forced a smile and quickly overtook the traitorous commander, disappearing into the artillery crater.

Upon seeing that it was his old colleague, the traitorous commander snorted in dissatisfaction. Just as he was about to continue crawling forward, another person ran past him at high speed and accidentally stepped on his palm.