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

I was jolted awake from the suffocating pain, my body feeling as if it had been pushed away by a powerful force, falling backward onto the black agate-like ground. The burning pain gradually subsided, as if everything that had just happened was just a dream.

What's even more puzzling is that the water, which was just as gentle as water a moment ago, is now as hard as stone, and I can no longer sink into it.

Old Yorkson stood behind me, his shadowy figure shrunk to the size of a normal person, wearing an old-fashioned top hat, and asked in a low, aged voice.

"Is the plan... going well? You seem to have recovered from your near-death state?"

I swayed my body, enjoying the long-lost feeling of my feet touching the ground, and looked up at the gloomy and eerie world that stretched as far as the eye could see, and said in a melancholy tone.

"I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"

Old Yorkson remained solemn and unmoved: "Listen to the one that helps the current situation first."

...This old man is too deep-seated. He always has a bitter and resentful expression, as if he's plotting something to my face. I still prefer to argue with Old Man Hook.

"Let me finish. The good news is that the planet's consciousness has communicated fully with me. With the flirting skills I inherited from Touma Kamijou, I've inspired her to fight against the invasion of the Eye of Death again. She's putting aside past grievances and doing her best to help us complete our plan!"

“Very good.” Old Yorkson said calmly. “What are the obstacles to the plan?”

I said mysteriously, "You made me connect with the planet's consciousness without reservation, and you even put me in a vat of boiling oil. I won't hold it against you for that... but do you know what's in my head?"

Old Yorkson's face had just shown a look of doubt, but it was instantly replaced by surprise. His tone changed as he asked, "Could it be... you took those..."

I nodded matter-of-factly: "That's right, the planet's consciousness read all my memories, and also took over all the bizarre material in my brain. Now I'm completely powerless and have become a complete idiot!"

Having such confidence isn't just me, a dung beetle wearing a mask—I'm shameless. With the bizarre memories in my head, I can easily withstand even god-level mental pollution; it's practically a powerful anti-god weapon in itself!

Although her planetary consciousness was powerful, her knowledge was only equivalent to that of a country girl without internet access. She was clearly still at the level of a living being, let alone able to transform into a god.

At this very moment, the enormous sphere of consciousness that had been dormant on the planet had transformed from a painful dark red into a colorful, shimmering ball of light, directing the surrounding spheres of consciousness—a dragon on the left and a rainbow on the right—to lose control at an irregular and discontinuous frequency, collectively bursting into laughter like idiots.

Fortunately, because of this, the mental pollution from the Star of Death was easily and completely dispelled.

So don't just copy and paste everything into your DNA—because you never know whether it will end up harming your enemies or your teammates...

"Hmm... This unexpected turn of events is beyond my plans... but it's not a big problem, because I have a backup plan."

Old Yorkson stared at me for a long time, speechless, before finally regaining his composure, but I could clearly hear a hint of helplessness in his tone.

"The planetary consciousness is no longer in pain, and at least there's no need to worry about it being corrupted and falling into chaotic madness. But once the Eye of Death takes shape, it will rely on chaotic gravity to destroy planets and devour the nascent planetary souls within them. In the end, everyone will still be doomed... You've probably ruled out a wrong option..."

"Without the cooperation of planetary consciousness, we would need more powerful consciousness entities besides myself... We might need a secondary amplification to unify consciousness and emit the sound of celestial bodies."

"Secondary amplification?" I asked.

Old Yorkson said, "The idea is to first transmit the sound of the dying space into the consciousness of the beings on the planet, causing enough resonance; then use these resonances to stimulate the planet's consciousness, merging them into celestial sounds that are transmitted to the surrounding celestial bodies, drawing away the Eye of Death..."

He pointed to a faint glow in the distance, "There are people over there who, like me, have come to rescue their own people. Go over and talk to them. First, work together to transmit the message to the consciousness of the planet's creatures and create enough resonance."

…………

"Hiss... Where did these three old men come from...?"

What prompted my above exclamation was that many of the tribe members were bathed in light in the darkness, slowly rising from the lake within the black onyx. But what I saw were not some three-headed, six-armed planetary guardian deity, but three old men walking side by side, each appearing to be older than the last.

As we all know, revolution is not a dinner party.

For something as serious as saving the world, other people would collect spherical objects like the Five Elements Spirit Orbs, the Seven Dragon Balls, or the Peace Star. At the very least, they would collect ancient artifacts, seal demons, or expel aliens—things that are much bigger and more practical.

But why did it turn into a charitable cause like taming animals, coaxing little girls, and chatting with the elderly in my hands? Do I look particularly kind?

So, what's next for me? Should I go to welfare homes to help out, teach in mountainous areas, visit nursing homes, plant trees in the Northwest, carry on the cause of love to the end and become a charity king, using love to influence the world?

I don't know if that world will be saved, but I'm pretty sure I'll get one of the top ten most touching figures in interstellar space...

The leader, dressed in a tattered animal-skin robe, was short and hunched over, with his hair disheveled at his sides, but his deep-set eyes were remarkably bright. He carried a twisted, bizarre statue with a toad-like belly in one hand, and with the other, he pulled the unconscious Gray from the River of Origin, introducing him to another old man beside him.

"This is the new leader of the Sugi-no-Ku clan. The will of the gods has pointed precisely to him, revealing to me the mysteries of the world... This is the destined one of the Sugi-no-Ku clan..."

The other old man snorted arrogantly and then turned away, ignoring him.

I stepped forward and carefully examined you for a while before suddenly exclaiming, "You are...you are Skunk Shaman...oh no, Snow Cow Shaman! I really wouldn't have recognized you if I hadn't smelled you, sorry, sorry!"

This time, the Snow Cow Shaman didn't even glance at me, and pretended not to hear what I was saying, just like always.

At this moment, the old man beside him chuckled maliciously and asked, "Alvaro, I think this Altana's darling is more outstanding. Why don't you introduce him?"

According to Jay, the planetary consciousness is called Altana. I now radiate the power I inherited from Ayanami, my light dazzlingly bright; therefore, the meaning of "Altana's darling" is self-evident.

I greeted the lean old man apologetically: "I don't deserve it. In fact, you are the darlings of Altana. I am just an older brother of Altana."

If Ayanami accepted my silly memories, then I'm her best older brother! That logic makes sense, right?

The lean old man: "..."

The snow shaman lowered his head and whispered to the person beside him, "Leopard, what stands before you is not a human, but the agent of some terrifying being... On the day of his descent, the gods issued an unprecedented warning... Do not speak, do not make contact, do not obstruct... It is the end of entropy increase and heat death..."

I ignored the rambling old man, but immediately guessed the identity of the lean old man.

"You're Chief Leopard? Weren't you dead? Why are you here?" I asked in surprise.

The leopard chieftain dismissed the skunk shaman's claims and warmly told me, "That's right, I am the leopard of the Cedar Clan, a soul who died without honor and now wanders the earth..."

According to old Yorkson, in addition to the consciousness of the dying, there are also the dead in this area who are unwilling to leave because their obsessions have not been resolved. They wander alone in pain and loneliness, never able to find peace.

But this old man in front of me... seems quite cheerful?

"Old Chief, is there some wish of yours that hasn't been fulfilled?" I asked this earthbound spirit, who had long since passed its expiration date and was beyond saving.

Chief Leopard glanced at me and told me a story.

He told me that decades ago, the Cedar Clan had ventured into the crypts beneath Mount Corilo and fought against those terrifying creatures.

As the most powerful group in the tribe at the time, the Cedar Clan sacrificed more than half of its elite warriors to either eliminate or drive away the terrifying monsters that attacked, and then resealed them in the dark underground.

Faced with such a terrifying existence that caused him great setbacks, the proud Leopard Chieftain once vowed at the graves of fallen warriors to train even more elite warriors to fight the monster to the last moment of his life.

However, the severe injuries suffered by the Cedar Clan attracted the attention of the Giant River Tribe, who eventually attacked and drove them away. The old leopard died in the desert, never to return to the grasslands, see the sacred mountain, or fulfill his promise.

Speaking of this, the leopard chieftain, still seething with anger, clenched his fist and roared, "Betterhold was a self-righteous bastard! He thought he was smarter than anyone else, but all he knew was how to scheme and try to take advantage of others! A guy who couldn't even stick to his own principles didn't deserve to be called a warrior, much less a disciple of a teacher!"

I nodded in deep agreement: "Well said! Bertholdt is all about sabotage and disruption, he has no cooperative spirit whatsoever, he schemes against his allies while scheming against his enemies, he doesn't deserve to be called a warrior! He doesn't deserve to be called a teacher... uh, wait a minute... I haven't yet asked who the teacher is?"

Chief Leopard roared in fury, "Of course it's Teacher Wise King! Alvaro, Berthold, and I are all Teacher Wise King's students. Don't the young people these days even know that?!"

...Who would know that?! Seriously, how could a 90s kid like me possibly know anything about a class reunion with a bunch of old men?! Do you expect me to know who your class beauty was back then?!

“It’s Melva!” the leopard said confidently.

“Whatever happens, happens!” I said in despair. “According to you, Chief Wise King knows that there are ancient monsters under the cave, and he also knows that Mount Corillo is a planetary-level device. So why doesn’t he just explain things clearly and then resolve the issue completely?”

Chief Leopard sneered, "Even a genius like you can't predict things that far in the future. Besides, aren't well-intentioned warnings and foolishness directly equated in the eyes of these clever people?"

...What you said makes so much sense, I can't even refute it. In Bertholdt's mind, the more information he receives, the more convinced he becomes that his plan is flawless, and he never learns to reflect or be in awe.

I sighed for a moment, then suddenly noticed an old man beside us, smiling at us. He was clearly the leader of the three, so I quickly asked, "Chief Leopard, who is this man beside you...?"

Chief Leopard's face instantly filled with anger: "Insolent young man, you don't even recognize this person?!"

Is it famous? I frowned as I looked at the old man beside me.

“This one…” I said hesitantly, while Chief Leopard looked on with anticipation.

He was tall and robust, dressed in a tattered medieval-style cloth shirt, with a thin face, sparse stubble, and long hair parted in the middle. However, there was not a trace of destitution or poverty between his brows; instead, he was filled with a sacred radiance.

"Could it be Xian..." I continued, my identity practically on the tip of my tongue, and the leopard's expression grew even more proud.

In this world, there is no pretense; one can directly see the true nature of the soul. In this dark and gloomy world, a striking light emanates from behind this old man, as if he is constantly redeeming this world. The light in his eyes is gentle and warm, seemingly regarding his own gains and losses as insignificant, and the suffering of all beings as the meaning of life…

“…The one the sage found in the barn, guided by the star Bethlehem…” My description took a turn, causing the leopard to pause in surprise.

Her expression changed! I guessed right, didn't I!

It's too obvious! This kind of riddle is no challenge for me at all! If you put a crown of thorns on his head and a cross on his back...

“…The legendary savior, right!” I finally blurted out.

Chief Leopard couldn't catch his breath, his eyes rolled back, and he was about to fall to the ground, clearly impressed by my intelligence!

But the old man who had been recognized smiled calmly and said in a gentle tone, "I'm sorry, you've mistaken me for someone else. The savior foretold by the celestial stars is probably not me, but my younger brother. As for me, I'm just an ordinary person suffering from a serious illness."

...Jesus had a brother? What kind of heretical myth is this? Is this a version published by the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom in 1853?

"No matter what, the world needs you now! Please help me!" I stopped beating around the bush and went straight to this seemingly impressive old gentleman, explaining my current situation to him.

An anonymous savior said, "I never imagined it would come to this... Must Alvaro really have to turn to the demon god for help...?"

At this point, he glanced at the skunk shaman, who was bowing his head, eyes closed, and in a dazed, languid state. "No, doing this won't end much better than the tolling of the doomsday bells. At best, it will prevent the planet from turning to dust... Altana and the Mother Goddess must never meet..."

As he said this, his broad, strong hand landed on my shoulder, and he looked at me with unwavering sincerity. "I will also fully support you. For the Brownpool tribe, for countless lives, for this planet, go and do it!"

…………

With the help of powerful allies, I still need to consolidate existing forces to enhance cohesion, make a clear voice, and ensure that the voice can spread to the hearts of all humans on this planet, triggering a resonance of consciousness.

Incidentally, animals may also hear it, but the frequency of their consciousness fluctuations is different, and it may just be noise to them.

Therefore, I first went to the location of the Sharp Vision Alliance, reached out and touched the bald man's bald head, and muttered to myself.

Do you want to become light?

As my palm approached the bald man, a light that illuminated the sky emanated from his body, instantly shining upon everyone in the Sharp Vision Alliance.

The Sharp-Eyed Alliance, half-submerged in the River Styx, suddenly heard a mysterious call from beyond the heavens, awakening their slumbering consciousness, which rose slowly from the black water. Amidst the chaotic consciousness of two thousand people, I slowly approached them, raising my radiant hand.

Gradually, the previously chaotic thoughts of these people began to unite, radiating a powerful light of consciousness, and finally coalescing into a deafening roar...

"Long live Lord Shafulin!"

A beam of light shot into the sky, surging forth against the overwhelming darkness, forming a power no less formidable than that of the tribal region.

Great, very energetic!

A savior who wished to remain anonymous looked over in surprise, but then smiled gently and, as planned, connected the consciousness of the tribe members to the light here, merging them into one.

Old Yorkson placed his hand on my shoulder and whispered, "You have enough strength. Speak..."

I was dumbfounded and said, "...What do you want to say?!"

Old Yorkson said, “It doesn’t matter. Even if it’s nonsense, it doesn’t matter. The vibration caused by the sound is a natural phenomenon, and the resonance of consciousness is also natural. You just need to speak, and I will coordinate the consciousness frequencies of everyone.”

After a moment of contemplation, I slowly began a speech on justice that would leave a lasting mark on this planet.

"Just humans!"

Raise your hands like this!

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