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

My attacks are surging and all-pervasive, their power spreading like a virus to everything it touches, turning everything into dust after I infuse it with my strength. It's as if everything is my material, assimilating everything at will and forging it into weapons to invade this world.

Our battle intensified, causing landslides and displacements in the surrounding mountains. Large amounts of grayish-white rock tumbled down the ancient foothills, revealing a rather peculiar black underlying rock. Judging from the basalt appearance of the underlying rock mass, it didn't seem to be a material typical of this Corillo Mountain.

In the end, the battle came to a conclusion, and without a doubt, the loser was...

Giant River Tribe! KO!

That's right, our fight is still ongoing, but the people around us have already been affected and suffered heavy losses.

The relentless pursuit of the Giant River Tribe was rapidly advancing towards Mount Kolilo. Some of them successfully passed through our combat zone, joined together to form the spearhead of the attack, and then stepped into the trap set by Ulises and his men.

These makeshift horse traps effectively hindered the cavalry's advance, forcing them to slow down and proceed cautiously. However, Ulisses, as he himself said, was a skilled hunter, and immediately launched surprise attacks from the shadows, making the enemy pay a further price.

Seeing this, Gray and I intentionally or unintentionally moved closer to that place, throwing the pursuers off their horses and into ravines with punches and kicks, while others were hit by rolling rocks and their last units were scattered.

Just as we were locked in fierce combat, a sudden volley of arrows interrupted this long-awaited battle.

"Chief White Falcon, stop!"

Chief Berthold's voice came over. After ordering the arrows to be fired, he came alone. He had obviously realized that continuing the battle would result in a thousand casualties for the enemy and eight thousand casualties for himself. He couldn't catch the enemy and couldn't even get up the mountain. It was obviously a losing proposition.

Gray thrust his spear forward, but it was blocked by the triple blades of my upper arm armor. The two of us gritted our teeth and continued to wrestle.

He roared, "No! This enemy is too dangerous! I must save his life!"

Upon hearing this, a thunderous cheer erupted from the distant camp. Countless tribal warriors pounded their shields and armor, brandishing their weapons in celebration of the battle.

It seems my fierce battle with Gray has attracted attention, and many people are now holding their breath in anticipation of this unprecedented showdown.

The tribe, which reveres blood and fire, has a particular fondness for this. Even someone like Gray, whose origins are unknown, was able to subdue the Cedar Clan and become their chief through fighting. Today, he is about to become an even more well-known star among the tribes.

I lowered my voice and said to Gray, "Don't get carried away. It's about time. Quickly create an opening so I can escape!"

Gray looked conflicted: "But... but I think I have a very good chance of winning this time!"

I thrust out my left fist and instantly struck Gray in the stomach, knocking the spear from his hand: "What? You thought you had a huge advantage, so you charged in and then typed 'gg'?"

Gray smiled sheepishly, "Alright, boss, but you have to promise to accept my challenge next time! I'll definitely surpass you!"

"Okay, then I'll definitely shower you with love next time too."

We pretended the battle was intense and slowly approached the side of the mountain road, where there was a relatively flat mountain area. I planned to force Gray back at the end of the battle, and then use the 86's downhill maneuver like a snow leopard to temporarily leave this area.

But at that moment, my body was suddenly taken over by the colonizer system, and I abruptly exited the charging mode.

As soon as I turned around, I saw Bertholdt approaching silently. In an instant, he was behind me, throwing a swift punch at my back.

I instantly channeled the spirit of Bu Jingyun, my expression practically screaming, "Don't come any closer!"

Seeing the sudden change, Gray quickly pushed me, helping me to turn around quickly so I could defend myself from the attack from behind.

However, when the real enemy attacks, the Colonizer System's counterattack function is automatically activated. The Orichalcos gauntlets of the first dimension strike first, colliding with Bertholdt's fist in an attempt to block the attack.

But then something surprising happened!

An extremely powerful force suddenly erupted from Bertholdt's aged body.

I had already suspected that the old man had been gathering strength in the tent. His aura was at its peak, so before my attack could take effect, his other punch had already struck unexpectedly!

I immediately swung out my other hand to try to block his attack, but Bertholdt's fists had already enveloped me like a rainstorm. The power of each punch was not comparable to my charged attack, but the frequency of the attack was terrifying, to the point that I wondered if I was fighting an eight-armed Asura!

The Colonizer System was meticulous in combat and was not fooled by the strange visual attacks. It relied on its extremely fast reaction speed to counter Bertholdt's high-speed punches.

But Bertholdt's slightly aged face suddenly flushed with an unnatural redness, and then he let out a low roar as his punches once again pushed his speed and power to the limit!

Under this relentless attack, I was gradually knocked off the ground and started to float up!

I wish I could transform into a minor elder in a cultivation novel and shout, "The tribe's powerful members are terrifyingly strong!"

But that's when the mole comes into play!

Just like Star-Lord bravely saving his father-in-law Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War, Gray shouted "Great opportunity!" and then seemingly punched me in the chest, but actually turned his fist into a palm, freeing me from my predicament of being suspended in mid-air and pushing me four or five meters away.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, I managed to escape and leave the battlefield via the planned escape route.

…………

The sunlight was clear and bright, and the view was expansive. Looking out, many animals were scattered across the grassland like black dots, adding patches of color to the grassland.

The sky was a clear, deep blue, with fluffy white clouds drifting about. The clouds occasionally veiled the sun, casting shadows on the ground, which were then quickly dispelled by the sunlight. Everywhere on the earth, flowers of varying shades of color swayed in the gentle breeze, releasing a delicate fragrance.

A cavalryman rode up, his anxious hooves clashing with the idyllic scene. Neither the fragrance of flowers nor the shadows of clouds seemed to satisfy the emptiness in his heart. Instead, he became even more agitated, brandishing his scimitar and hacking at the flowers and plants along the way to vent his emotions.

His warhorse probably didn't understand its master's feelings, only that the way it was being squeezed on the belly was unusually rough today. In pain, it had no choice but to keep running forward, ignoring the tempting grass and water nearby.

"Quickly, we must get the message to the chief as soon as possible!"

The cavalryman spent a moment getting his bearings, then suddenly turned his horse onto another path, seemingly trying to take a shortcut. But just then, a man jumped out of the bushes beside him, shouting "Demacia!" and threw a rope, pulling the cavalryman off his horse.

The warhorse, now without its rider, seemed completely oblivious to the change and continued galloping steadfastly toward its destination.

But I realized it might be playing dumb.

As its expression gradually changed from (｀∧') to (≧ω≦), and its steps became lighter and lighter, it strolled around and secretly turned a corner, running towards the place with lush water plants, leaving only a happy silhouette.

"I don't know about your interpersonal relationships, but your luck with horses is pretty bad. I suggest you go to the Thunderstruck Pet Park and learn from Teacher Yu, who has excellent luck with horses. It's said that every horse there embodies his blood and sweat..."

I took out a rope woven from grass and first tied his hands and feet tightly to prevent him from escaping. Then I used scraps of cloth from the tribe's uniform to gag his mouth to prevent his shouts from attracting other enemies. Only then did I wipe the sweat from my forehead.

That guy almost got away!

After escaping from the tribal camp, I hid by this waterside on the grassland, looking for lone cavalrymen to ambush in order to find out what had happened.

The sudden confrontation just now was so strange; I still haven't figured out what happened. What's even stranger is that that old guy Bertholdt actually had such bizarre tricks up his sleeve, managing to make the colonist system suffer a setback!

Could something so unscientific as to defeat this cheat ability be magic? No, it could also be a mysterious power from the East?

Gray has infiltrated the camp again to gather information, so I've abandoned my plan to go back and cause chaos at the camp. This time, I'm going to outsmart them.

Having a large family and business is such a hassle. Just the fact that my ally, the Brown Pool tribe, is being threatened by the other side makes me afraid to act as recklessly as before. If my power were any greater, there would definitely be more constraints in the future.

So I lurked along this only route for a long time and finally caught this guy who was obviously a messenger, wanting to interrogate him for information.

I held the scythe to his neck and glanced at his character attributes. Oh, it's "cowardly." That makes things easier.

"Answer my question, or I'll cut off your ear. Name!"

The messenger swallowed hard and said with difficulty, "My name is Cleo... Could you loosen your grip a little? I'm suffocating..."

I then realized that I was holding his neck with one hand, so I let go. After all, the lives of the tribe matter too.

Which tribe?

Krio asked nervously, "Giant River Tribe...Are you from the Scorpion Yakan Tribe or the Brown Pool Tribe?"

I brought the scythe close to his neck and said in a low voice, "Wrong answer. You only have the obligation to answer, not the right to ask questions, therefore your ears are now mine!"

Cleo's face immediately turned pale, and he cried out, "No, no! I'll answer seriously!"

With the help of Krio, the messenger from the Great River tribe, I finally learned some of the general events that had occurred from him.

Bertholdt's drastic change in attitude was indeed due to the attack on the Great River Tribe's vulnerable rear.

I was just lamenting that it's not easy to be the leader of a powerful force. Decisions have to be made considering all aspects, which inevitably leads to hesitation and a loss of the decisive spirit of someone who has nothing to lose.

However, the crisis for the Giant River Tribe lies in the fact that their ancient river territory, on which they have depended for survival, is now under serious attack. If the situation is delayed any longer, they may lose all their territory and, incidentally, achieve the goal of dominating the island.

In order to deal with the Brownpool tribe as soon as possible, Bertholdt mobilized the troops that had stayed behind for this exhibition, preparing to quickly defeat them and return to defend the rear.

Incidentally, this "garrison corps" refers to the division of the siege camp. The attacking corps participated in the offensive and charged ahead, while the garrison corps escorted supplies and collected resources.

But what exactly happened behind them?

I continued to ask questions and only then did I learn the specific details from the messenger.

The attack was not launched by any major surrounding power; even the Aimu Human Federation was still observing and did not launch a military counterattack.

They were attacked by a group of people dressed in the same tribal attire.

These people surged in like a tidal wave, breaching the Giant River tribe's strongholds one after another, plundering their food and leaving only devastation in their wake. A small number of warriors who hadn't come to fight rallied to resist, but were overwhelmed by the sheer number of people, becoming insignificant splashes of blood in the tide.

However, the disaster was not limited to the Giant River tribe. The tribes that came to besiege the area, especially the thirteen allied tribes, were all affected to varying degrees by these unknown forces.

The situation was now right in front of them.

If the Brown Pool tribe cannot be dealt with now, our rear will continue to be nibbled away; if we abandon the siege and return to our own defenses, then we are likely to be attacked from behind by the Brown Pool tribe, with whom we have a deep-seated blood feud.

It seems the only way is to complete the siege quickly and decisively, gaining both strategic and material advantages.

This can only be described as Bertholde and the thirteen covenant chiefs reaping what they sowed. If they hadn't implemented that sham strategy of eliminating their own forces while maintaining a facade of strength, thus draining the armed forces of their vassal states and smaller powers, they could have held their ground entirely with the armed forces of their vassal tribes and wouldn't have been able to break through so easily.

But upon closer reflection, I realized that negotiation is the best solution for them! Shouldn't they be signing a treaty to secure peace amidst internal and external troubles?

At this point, President Bei could simply sign a "Treaty of Friendship and Mutual Assistance between Hebei and Hechi," and then send an old man with a white beard to say something like, "If we surrender with courtesy and lay down our arms, we will still be granted the title of Marquis. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

At that time, not only will Zhuge Village Woman be fooled, but even the monkey who wants to eat the peaches of immortality will be fooled. Isn't that great?

"Where did the people who attacked you come from? How come you couldn't find out?" I asked.

Creo fell silent, stammering, "Those people are members of small tribes on the outskirts of our tribe... but we've never seen their flags before. They have a reverse lightning bolt drawn on them, and they claim to be apostles of Shafulin..."

"Wait a minute, are you sure they're talking about Saffron, and not some other brand like Vaseline, Stalin, or something else?"

Krio nodded and said, "Of course, they shout that phrase every day, it's impossible for so many people in the tribe to misunderstand..."

...Damn, did Bertholdt think I was in cahoots with the people who attacked them, which is why he turned on me on the spot?

I've never even been to the Giant River Tribe, how could I possibly set up a branch of Tsuburaya Productions in the tribe and go there to fight them for territory! The Reverse Lightning Legion is still licking its wounds in its homeland, and the 460 Legion is holding the western front, so they certainly wouldn't be dressed in tribal attire...

Did someone hear about this name from the Rieugomi Bushland and go there to intimidate others?

Where did these people come from? It's obvious that someone is using "that person's" name to cause trouble!

"Where on the grassland is the Giant River Tribe?" I pondered the possible culprits over and over. I had certainly offended quite a few people, but what kind of deep-seated hatred would drive someone to do something so disgusting? The Andetoneva faction? Or the Godslayer Pirate Crew?

“The North,” Creo answered honestly, adding as he went, “It’s that river that originates in the grasslands and flows into the sea near the northern desert region.”

North?

Wait a minute, I think I forgot to count one person when I was eliminating possibilities...

Suddenly, a dazzling head popped into my mind.

The bald man who took the wrong map and ended up retracing Xuanzang's route, joining a classic tour group that followed the wrong path, seems to be taking this route, planning to detour from the northern desert region into the grasslands...

Could it be that the enemy has somehow launched a pincer attack?