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

They risked their lives and sacrificed so many lives to storm into Sabre Bay and seize this spaceship, only to end up as a violent demolition contractor and scrap collector, bringing back a huge pile of non-combustible junk...

A piece of trash this size would cost millions to dispose of in a city.

Combined with their thin bodies, blank expressions, faces blackened by gunpowder, and tattered clothes, they looked exactly like a group of post-apocalyptic scavengers.

Judging from this, they might as well all turn to the dark side and become garbage kings; they can at least make a living by begging on imperial orders.

…………

The fat man, who had a gash on his head, was unusually happy to be arguing with the one-eyed leader of the loader at the dock, trying to prevent them from taking more of the spoils than they deserved.

This scoundrel was almost surrounded and killed by the pirate reinforcements. He was overjoyed to have escaped with his life and had no attachment to the strategic objective. At least his camel caravan was still there, and the supplies on the camels were still there, which would allow him to have breakfast tomorrow.

For my men, combat prowess isn't the most important thing, but their fighting spirit must never falter—even the will to fight for breakfast counts. I don't want a hundred or so "flying generals" under my command, the kind that even Death himself could barely catch up with.

"Fatty, don't worry about these trivial matters." I patted Fatty on the head and ordered, "The spaceship over there rescued more than a hundred prisoners and slaves from the ship. Use your professional skills to distribute the food and medicine."

Just then, I saw the outer robe I had thrown out to lure the enemy. I quickly picked it up with a heavy heart, touching the bullet holes and damage on it. "I'll save as many as I can. Once I'm done and have a clear understanding of their situation, report back to me."

Ellie had her grandmother sew this dress for me; it's been with me through thick and thin, and I never imagined it would end so soon. It's truly heartbreaking...

I hope Ellie in Mineral Town also has a wardrobe like Pinru's, so she can make one for me when I get back.

I carried the clothes toward the ruins, wanting to see if the soldiers cleaning up the battlefield had encountered any problems. But as I passed a section of broken wall, I called out to a soldier who was holding a tool and digging at the ground.

I wanted to teach this guy a lesson for taking advantage of the situation, but when I looked up, I was met with a wrinkled old face.

"...How could it be this annoying face? I must be hallucinating because of too much stress." I shook my head and said.

The old man dusted himself off, stood up, and said dismissively, "Hmph, then tell me, what's the psychological reason for this?"

I said confidently, "That's called the vodka effect, and old Sebal is a prime example. Last time he was drunk, I even heard him say, 'Patrick, let's go jellyfish hunting!'"

Old Man Hook: "..."

…………

"Old man, I just suffered a strategic setback here and need to make adjustments. If you don't want to run into bad luck, let me go back now."

When I looked around, I found that apart from the still hazy, dark night sky, everyone else had disappeared. I stood alone in the empty ruins, like a passing Mohican savior from the end of the century.

Only two old men could create such a genuine dream.

Old Man Hook stroked his beard with displeasure. "During the superstring perception process centered on you, I investigated and found that the spaceship couldn't take off. Unlike you, who just watched the battlefield and gritted your teeth. Now you've wasted your time!"

I gritted my teeth in anger: "If it weren't for your escrow service, I wouldn't have had to watch the whole thing!"

Old Man Hook scoffed, "Superstring perception can cover an entire planet, and you're using it to observe a battlefield right next to you? Isn't that ridiculous?"

In his dream, he waved his hand, and a sandy sphere appeared floating in the air.

“That old bastard Yorkson is still seriously injured and hasn’t recovered yet. After I finish contacting you this time, I also need to go back behind the Dream Gate to properly recover my strength… Interfering with reality is just too energy-consuming for a dream spirit like me…”

The sand sphere suddenly split in the middle, revealing two flat images with miniature mountains and rivers clearly visible, and several noticeable protrusions appearing on the images.

"What are these dots? Did they forget to remove the pins during 3D printing?"

Old Man Hook speechlessly placed the map on the ground and pointed to the protrusion on it.

“These are the spatial anchor points I was referring to, where there was a noticeable spatial tear. If you can get close to these places and find an anchor point in a suitable state, I can try to lock onto the coordinates of Mineral Town and use the power of the interstellar vampires to send you back.”

The sand art of this planet is fairly clear. I can clearly see an entire ocean surrounding the planet, a continent that is connected to the ground, and a vast desert in the center of the continent—although at this resolution, all terrains look like deserts.

"The distance between these points seems a bit far..." I muttered. "Also, these places are invisible to the naked eye, right? So how am I supposed to know exactly where they are?"

It appears as a single point on a planetary scale, but in reality, it's at least several hundred square kilometers in size.

Old Man Hook shrugged unceremoniously, "That's none of my business. I can only tell you the approximate locations of these places. Spatial rifts of this scale can't have been around for too long. You can determine the location by combining the legends and accounts of the surrounding residents."

This shameless old man even patted my shoulder in a seemingly friendly manner, "Anyway, you're just killing time, right? You might as well go out and see the world, so you won't always mistake the lake in front of your house for the ocean..."

"...What did you say? Aren't the waters of the Free Trade Zone and Sabre Bay Gate the ocean?"

“I’ve investigated; it’s just a fairly large saltwater lake.” He waved at me. “Call me when you’ve confirmed the location of the spatial rift. I need to go back and keep an eye on that old bastard; I have a feeling he’s up to something again…”

I angrily tried to grab him, but I missed a step, lost my balance, and crashed into a wall, suddenly waking up from the dream.

And on the land in front of them was a lifelike sand painting of a world map.

Chapter 478 Edge World Map

I grabbed an innocent soldier who was passing by and ordered, "Go and call Eaton, Fatty, and Baldy over. Tell them it's a meeting."

Upon hearing the word "meeting," the Reverse-Flash soldier shuddered and rushed out like Barry Allen, showing no signs of fatigue after the battle.

"..."

After a while, three people with equally worried expressions arrived. By the light of the torches, they circled the sand painting as if performing some mysterious ritual.

Eaton was heartbroken over the casualties of his soldiers, the fat man was worried that the loader would take advantage of him in the distribution of supplies, and the bald man was staring blankly with a troubled expression, looking absent-minded.

"Eton, don't look so glum now that the war is over. Next time we go to war, I'll allow you to carry the French flag and use the French military salute. Is that alright? Quickly analyze the map and see what these markings represent."

Eaton, completely bewildered, raised his hand. "What's a French military salute?"

I casually said, "It's just an action to express a desire for peace... Asking any more questions would be an insult to the law! Let's get down to business."

Eaton said helplessly, "Fine..."

He was prepared for my whimsical and random behavior, so he turned his attention to the drawing on the ground.

"My lord, is this Lord Shafulin's new decree?" He clicked his tongue in admiration as he looked at the miniature sand sculpture map on the ground. "It's far superior to what I could make..."

Did I bring you here just to hear this?

“Say it again! If you can’t give a coherent explanation, I’ll turn you into a terracotta warrior.”

Before Eaton could speak, the fat man leaned closer and examined the paintings by the firelight. "Sir, although the proportions of the upper and lower parts of these two paintings are somewhat distorted, I can still recognize the main subject..."

He pointed to the curving coastline in the lower left corner and said, "This should be the Riegomi Bush Desert. I've seen it on the strategic map of my former faction. We came to the desert along the trade route through the Noga Mountains."

As the loader who is most adept at surviving and the most skilled at escaping danger, Fatty's memory should be fine.

"So these coordinates are our location..."

I pointed to a marker on the shoreline to confirm my location. Looking at the map, we were indeed on the edge of a vast inland lake…

So you bastard, you knew all along this wasn't the beach?!

"Ahem, what do you call this lake next to us?" I asked.

The fat man looked up and said, "This is Lake Baisebla, or, according to your custom, the Sea of ​​Baisebla. The Sabre Bay we captured is an important waterway hub. Water transport can avoid long journeys through the desert, so many merchants would stop here."

What the hell? Based on my habits, this sounds like some kind of rural, backwater language!

I grabbed his finger, which was pointing out the landscape, and pointed it at the mark closest to us.

"Enough with the nonsense. Then tell me where these places are?"

The fat man scratched his head, saying awkwardly, "I can't see it in these places..."

At this point, Eaton, perhaps to help the fat man out of his predicament, volunteered, "Sir, I can see a little bit about these places."

After gesturing the distance and adjusting the location against the real-world coordinates for a moment, the traitorous leader said with certainty, "This place should be at the southernmost edge of the desert, within the territory of the Cedar Clan."

He then looked at the location again and guessed while looking at the large map: "Although I haven't been to these other three or four places, they should all be in the Lake Blue Hermit Crab Plains. But that's the territory of the tribal barbarians, so why would Lord Shafulin want to explore there?"

There are seven markers on the sand table map in total. One of them is closest to us and, judging from its location, should indicate the land we are standing on. It should be our coordinates.

How could it be such a coincidence that there's an anchor point right beneath our feet?

The other four are in what Eaton called barbarian territory. To reach the grasslands, we have to travel south along the trade route from here, crossing a desolate and extremely arid desert. Without a professional guide, it's only a matter of time before the entire army is wiped out.

There are two others, one of which is near the Arctic ice sheet.

According to Fatty, it is an ice and snow world that never melts. Apart from a few space outposts that forcibly established research bases based on technology to avoid harassment, no faction has ever been crazy enough to want to settle there.

Surely no unlucky soul would travel there?

The last one is on an island in the middle of the sea, which is extremely difficult to cross. In the past, it would be a vicious cycle of "finding a target - seizing a ship - failing to seize the ship - continuing to find a target". Unless I am Kublai Khan playing with reduplicated words - talking nonsense, I would not do such a costly thing.

I raised the torch high and said to my men, "This time we'll change our strategy and stop large-scale operations. I'll take a very small group south in a while to search for roads and clues, minimizing our movements. I'll notify you only after we're fully prepared."

Eaton stood up and said, "Sir, I can accompany you!"

I shook my head: "The Reverse Lightning Legion needs you to continue training them and take the opportunity to reorganize these blood-stained veterans into an army, so you are not suitable to be deployed."

I pointed at the fat guy and said, "You too."

The fat man said emotionally, "I never imagined I was so important to the adults... I will definitely stay here and do my best to gather supplies..."

I shook my head and said, "Don't misunderstand. You can't fight and you don't know the way. Taking you on the road is no better than taking a pig—a pig will be roasted and eaten when it's hungry, but you'll only waste food."

Fatty: "..."

I looked at the bald man who was working part-time as a secondary light source and said, "It looks like you're the only one left. Come with me and let's find the location of these markers."

A hint of seriousness flashed across the bald man's face: "Sir, I have a request, but I don't know if I should say it..."

"But it's alright to let it go."

“…I want to pave the way for you, to walk this path alone.” He sighed. “I thought I had seen through life and death. But in battle, seeing the lives of soldiers still gave me confusion and fear. My heart is now full of confusion, like a moth that sees a light but is separated by glass…I hope that after walking this path, I can find some hope of enlightenment.”

Is this because the difference between theory and practice has led to a cognitive bias? Indeed, practicing the two great arts of Nietzsche and Shakyamuni in reverse can easily lead to demonic possession. If he doesn't go mad like the great master Nietzsche, he can only learn from the Buddha and seek a breakthrough through asceticism.

"Go ahead, go to the Cedar Clan first, and we'll see what happens next."

I agreed with the bald man's idea.

Hearing us discussing the route to the tribe, Fatty chimed in with a suggestion: "Sir, if you're going anywhere, you could take two of the slaves from the boats with you! I just investigated, and the slaves on the boats are all captured people. Apart from some valuable technical personnel, many of the rest are tribespeople from the Lake Blue Hermit Crab Grassland!"

He clapped his hands excitedly and said, "Right, we should have called them over earlier to explain the distribution of the tribes to us so we could choose our route! I heard there are many cannibals among the indigenous tribes, so we have to be careful..."

I thought about it and it made sense, so I asked, "Oh, then which tribe do they come from? Their diet doesn't include Homo sapiens, right?"

The fat man racked his brains to remember, "I think it's called... Brown Pond Tribe? That should be the name..."

...The Brown Pool Tribe?!

Chapter 479 The Butterfly's Wings

As night deepened, everything seemed to fall asleep; the sea and sky were still, except for the sound of the waves, which was so clear at that moment. In the distance, the Sabre Bay Lighthouse was still flashing, like a tenacious guardian on the ruins, dutifully still protecting this land.

The procession, carrying torches, was scattered along the coastal road like broken pearls.