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

In another direction, the bald man who had been unconscious suddenly woke up and pointed a finger in my direction. Through simple deduction, I ruled out the possibility that he was going to sing "Kimi wa Rōbana yori Mishii" (You Are Beautiful Like a Rose)...

The yellow light emanating from the fingertips grew stronger and stronger, instantly causing blindness! Unfortunately, it only lasted for a few seconds before the light source completely dimmed.

After the "King of Light" descended and possessed him for a long time, the bald man seemed to have undergone adaptive evolution, and was able to actively adapt to the radiation energy and even interrupt the release of mysterious mental energy.

But the warning wasn't issued by the bald man, but by a team that emerged from behind the Eight-Nation Alliance.

They were all clad in steel armor, wielding great swords, and marched into the battlefield in orderly formation, breaking through the Royal Knights Guard of the Meto Empire and forcibly entering the arena.

What's striking is that these suits of armor all bear an oddly shaped red cross...

"Lion, Sixth Brother!"

I instantly recognized the 460 Legion, and this armored legion joined me without hesitation, maintaining a tight formation to become our rear guard, taking advantage of the chaos to retreat from the battlefield together.

The Imperial Knight, who had collapsed and coughed up blood, angrily questioned the musketeers arrayed around him, "Aim Human Federation! Didn't you say these were medical corps?! Why are you helping the enemy?!"

You wouldn't believe it, would you? The Red Cross is not such a simple entity after all!

The commander of the last team to enter the battlefield replied expressionlessly, "We are here to avenge our fallen comrades, not to help you find the culprits. The enemy you attacked without authorization happens to be an ally of the Aiem Human Federation!"

In an instant, the Meto Empire's camp erupted in fury: "How dare you ally with the evil 'Ancient' Group!"

The commander of the Aim Human Federation remained unmoved: "Baron Frank, your hatred is none of my concern, and our diplomacy is none of your concern. Regardless of how Andenawara and your hatred were ignited, we will only turn our guns on our own enemies!"

After saying this, the unit moved away from the edge of the battlefield and returned to its defensive area, as if the appearance of the 460th Legion had nothing to do with them.

Without a doubt, my identity has been exposed, and I may be one of the major targets of the Meto Empire's mission here!

The most likely informant is the Andenawara faction, who are trying to stir up trouble! They know all the different identities I've used, and once they heard the banner I raised behind the Great River tribe, they knew I was definitely here to kick me while I was down.

But the question is, what exactly is the relationship between this "ancient" group they're talking about and the Meto Empire? And how did my false identity offend this broken interstellar empire, leading to such a deep-seated hatred?

The current war situation is complex and complicated, and the Aim Human Federation can only show neutral goodwill in this way, but that is enough. We took this opportunity to widen the distance between ourselves and the enemy and successfully rushed into the besieged camp at the foot of the mountain.

I charged into the camp, only to be met by the warrior legion left behind by the Giant River Tribe, who tried to block our advance. But I had lost my patience.

The troops of the Meto Empire relentlessly pursued me, but were ambushed from behind by Gray and his men, their advance delayed at the entrance of the besieged camp.

Since the Meto Empire is here to deal with me, and the enemies of the other forces are the tribes that have gone up the mountain, then if I leave here, the battlefield will actually calm down.

"Get out of my way!"

Upon arriving at the camp, I instantly activated my charged-up mode, knocking away the warrior legion blocking my way. The 460 Legion followed silently behind me, transforming into a powerful demolition machine. With wild swings and slashes, they quickly dismantled the crumbling camp into a wide road with open sides, leaving no chance to hinder my progress.

"You are not allowed to enter! You will all be cursed by the Holy Mountain! Damn intruders!"

Even as I beat these fanatical fighters until they were spitting blood, they still stubbornly stood in their indefensible camp, angrily and devoutly cursing us.

I grabbed a fighter by the throat and said coldly, "Tell me, what exactly is this curse!"

The man waved his arms and legs wildly, but his face was filled with disdain and indifference. He said angrily, "Our ancestors placed a curse on this sacred land! Everyone who steps into this place, except for the descendants of the holy Covenant Tribe, will die! You will all die!"

Upon seeing his fanatical tone, I lost interest and tossed him away. I then turned to Coyote and Firefist and asked, "Do you know what he means?"

The hyena shook his head, but Firefist spoke up, "Teacher, that's a legend in the tribe. It is said that Mount Corilo is the body of a god, and the ancestors of the thirteen covenant tribes are the soul of a god. If someone can unite all the descendants of the thirteen ancestors, he will have the authority of the god and rule the whole world."

I shook my head: "That old man Bertholdt, could he be taking the legends seriously? The leaders of these thirteen savage tribes don't even have the reach of an electronics factory. Does that mean the factory manager can become the Emperor of the Universe?"

A madman isn't scary; what's truly terrifying is a madman who's fixated on one thing. Such a madman will take things to extremes, to absurd levels that are incomprehensible to ordinary people.

It's too dangerous for the Brownpool tribe to deal with such an old madman. Gray is desperately trying to buy me time. The most important task now is to get up the mountain!

…………

The towering pass on the Corillo mountain road had now been breached, a massive gaping hole appearing. Boulders were shattered, logs were flying everywhere, and the ground was awash in blood—a gruesome scene, a veritable hell on earth. This shocking breach showed no signs of siege equipment; could it have been man-made?

I led the 460th Legion up the mountain, and when I saw this scene, my blood almost ran cold. On one hand, I was worried about the safety of the Jays. Even a pass that could be considered an impregnable fortress had been breached and destroyed. How would the isolated and powerless Brownpool tribe escape their fate?

On the other hand, I was shocked by Bertholdt's cold-blooded ruthlessness. Among the dead bodies scattered on the ground, as far as the eye could see, they were all dressed as members of the tribes below the mountain, their deaths extremely gruesome. I suspected that he first used the inhumane ant-like siege tactics to exhaust the Brown Pool tribe's energy, and only then did he forcefully break through the defenses and enter this fortress.

The sacrifices made during this process are unimaginable...

We rushed into the mountain pass through the breach, but we didn't hear any fighting or shouting. Instead, we saw a simple wall and watchtower built behind the city wall. Although it was also full of damage, the gate was tightly closed and it had not been breached.

Wengcheng!

Before I left, I told Jay to hurry up and repair the building!

"Marcus! You're finally back!"

Our footsteps startled the guards behind the city wall. The little heads of jays popped out from the top of the wall immediately. After recognizing me, they cried out loudly. Then came rows of armed women.

"Jays! I'm so glad you're all alright! I came to rescue you!"

As soon as the door opened, the jay flew into my arms, tears streaming down its face. I comforted the jay, a mix of worry and lingering fear welling up inside me.

In that instant, my thought was to abandon all plans and strategies, lead my men down the mountain, and wipe out all forces threatening our safety! Eliminate everything that dares to approach! Make sure they never dare to come near here again!

However, such impulses were of no use. I first had the 460th Legion quickly take over the defensive work from these women, and then I led Firefist and Coyote into the back of the city wall, where I found the open space full of wounded soldiers.

Ulysses lay by the fire, his face covered in blood. Hearing of my return, he struggled to his feet, startling Cardinal, who was tending to him. "Marcus! We...we've failed! They attacked the walls like madmen! All of us combined couldn't hold them off! For almost a day and a night, we lost more and more men, and finally the walls collapsed..."

I pushed him to the ground to prevent his wound from reopening in his excitement. "Tell me slowly, what happened next?"

Ulysses, his face ashen, said, "We held out until the very last moment, retreating into the inner city you had built for us before it fell... Everyone was prepared to fight to the last man..."

Ignoring Ulises's defeat, Cardinal replied, "Don't move! Marcus, they didn't attack us after they came in; they went straight to the Sacred Lake. We've been guarding here in fear, thankfully they haven't returned yet..."

Ulysses said with a pained expression, "I'm sorry, Cardinal... if we could hold the walls, you wouldn't have to worry so much..."

The redbird said with a comforting tone, "Ulysses, you owe the tribe nothing. You are a hero of our tribe..."

Then, under the influence of the suspension bridge effect, the two of them began to enter into a flirtatious and affectionate relationship.

Having been force-fed a mouthful of dog food (a Chinese slang term for witnessing public displays of affection), I looked at the two people in front of me in despair, then glanced at Fire Fist and Coyote following behind, and the 460 Legion standing guard in the distance...

Ulysses gets wives as soon as he goes to war, but all I have around me are a bunch of suspicious gay guys!

This is not fair!

"Marcus?" Jay asked me, wiping away his tears.

I glanced again at the jay clinging to my arm, crying and snot streaming down its face...

Burn, burn, burn!

They should all be burned!

I'll chase after them right now!

Burn Bertholdt first!

Chapter 525 Nanomechanical Infection

The sounds here are lively, but not noisy; the scenery is simple, but not boring; the climate is cool, but not harsh. A cold wind howls before the solitary high-altitude lake, its mirror-like surface reflecting a world far removed from the clamor and strife of humankind.

Standing here, one can witness the endless cycle of day and night, the four seasons, in this secluded paradise. The sun rises and the moon sets, and the stars shine brightly, but atop the mountain, there is only eternal desolation and solitude, offering solace to the weary hearts of those burdened by the world.

At this moment, a solitary figure stands before a lonely grave by the lake, clumsily piling white stones on the grave. However, due to his imposing stature, he always accidentally causes another stone to fall, resembling a miniature Sisyphus pushing a boulder uphill, his behavior comical and laughable.

But he moved cautiously and without discouragement, as if he were worshipping something with a devout attitude.

"You've arrived?"

Bertholdt heard footsteps behind him and stood at the edge of Mirror Lake, his imposing figure projected onto the water, casting a long reflection.

"Where are your men?! Make them come out and face their deaths!"

On the way up the mountain, my murderous intent was already rising, and I was determined to eliminate all enemies in my way. I had imagined many scenarios, such as being on high alert, surrounded by traps, or being ambushed from all sides, but I never thought I would encounter Bertholdt, who came alone to meet me.

"My men are all dead, and I'm too injured to move. Sakam just left me here to die. Are you satisfied with this answer?"

Bertholdt sat down somewhat awkwardly against the grave, and it was then that I realized that half of his body looked like Thanos after snapping his fingers.

Judging from the character's status panel, it is covered with complex symptoms such as "fractures", "bruises", "cuts" and "internal bleeding", just like Gol D. Roger on the guillotine. No wonder he has the purple "fighter" trait, but his movements are as slow as an old man.

In other words, it's a miracle he's even alive right now, because his character panel clearly states "Three hours until he dies from blood loss."

At this moment, Bertholdt's face was filled with a sense of relief and calm.

"You really have no compassion for elderly people living alone. You young people even want to stop me from visiting my old friend's grave..."

The cold blade pressed against his throat. I sneered, "I've never seen a guy with blood on his hands who still has the nerve to call himself a lonely old man! Put away your 'lonely' act for now. I've seen through your scheme; there's no need for further excuses. Tell me what you're plotting, or your head will be rolling on the ground in the next second!"

Firefist and Coyote stepped forward, pressing their blades against the dangerous man's neck, but Bertholdt remained rooted to the spot without struggling. He coughed twice, breathed heavily for a moment with a pained expression, and then spoke.

"Compared to what I did, aren't you the most cruel? I made the mistake of accidentally injuring Melva, and therefore did everything I could to protect the Brownpool tribe, but you made things out of control... Everything went against my expectations... Not just you... I still don't understand why she insisted on not accepting my proposal that night of negotiations, and even lied about an attack to scare away her people..."

He was probably referring to the night the Brown Pool tribe was attacked at the foot of the mountain, which was also the day the elder was unfortunately injured.

Based on my current understanding of Bertholdt, if he really wanted to detain an old woman that day, with his strength, there was no way he could have failed. If he wanted to silence her, he wouldn't have just beaten her half to death.

So my guess is probably similar to what he said; he probably held back on purpose...

"Then I really have to thank you," I said with a forced smile.

Bertholdt coughed for a while, then said helplessly, "Believe it or not, I have never wanted to harm anyone from the Brownpool tribe..."

“But you’ve driven them to a dead end! You’ve driven the entire grassland to a dead end!” I retorted.

Bertholdt paused, his expression turning extremely ferocious. "I have no choice! The Great River Tribe needs food, the entire grassland needs food, and only here is there food!"

He roared, "Even if I could protect them out of personal feelings, I couldn't face my tribe members starving and left to fend for themselves! At this point, it's either others who die or my own people who die! If you were in this position and forced to make a choice, could you still so righteously criticize someone else's stance?!"

I remained silent, my face cold, while Bertholdt, who had just gained the upper hand, grew even paler and fell silent.

Because I know that what he said wasn't directed at me, but at himself. If he were like me, without any stance, he could indeed righteously side with one side. But having been at the heart of power for so long, he could no longer remain detached, nor could anyone else. When someone who has lost their original intentions makes a choice, no matter which one they choose, the result is always heartbreaking.

Bertholdt stared blankly at the grave, muttering to himself as if conversing with the spirit of the long-dead.

“Merva, you’ve always been smarter than me since we were kids, and now you’ve chosen to die and hide here, leaving all the problems to me…”

I paused for a moment and then asked, "...You know each other?"

The tone of their voices clearly indicates a close relationship between the two. Who knew there was such old dog food (a Chinese slang term for public displays of affection) here! Seriously, enough is enough!

Bertholdt seemed lost in memories, and said softly, "I met Melva when I was six years old, when she was still the fire keeper..."

"Are you really a student of the Wise King Chief of the Brown Pool Tribe?" I asked.

But upon hearing that name, Bertholdt flew into a rage. "I have nothing to do with that bastard! He's a traitor! A coward! Everyone thinks he's a hero, but I know he's a complete fraud!"

Hearing these insults, Firefist couldn't help but retort, "Chief Wise King saved the tribe from the radioactive fallout back then! Now you've led the tribe into a desperate situation surrounded by enemies on all sides! How dare you slander such a hero!"

I knew long ago that this guy was a fan of Chief Xianwang, and now that his idol has been slandered, he couldn't help but start trolling.