Chapter Thirty-Three: The Festival Year

If Lin Ye, far away in the Block Kingdom, learned that someone had already ventured into the realm of gender transformation ahead of her, would she laugh or cry? One thing was certain—if Mo Fangyuan found out, he’d probably gloat about it.

“Right, place this here,” Mo Fangyuan instructed.

Pressured by the looming threats of the Skeleton King and Zombie King, Mo Fangyuan had begun upgrading the kingdom’s defensive structures several days prior. The Block Kingdom’s defenses were now much sturdier than before. In truth, there weren’t many fortifications to speak of: just three watchtowers and a low earthen fence encircling the “capital.”

“With defenses like these, we don’t need to wait for the Skeleton King or Zombie King to send their armies—a handful of minor monsters could breach them with ease!” Mo Fangyuan shuddered at the thought. Had he not improved these feeble defenses, the Block Kingdom wouldn’t withstand the coming monster tide for long.

“How did the Block Kingdom survive all this time?” he wondered. According to records, spring was the season when monsters spawned most rapidly, and every time the monster tide erupted, many human kingdoms perished.

Today was the last day of autumn. Unless a special year intervened, in three years, winter would give way to spring once more. The Block Kingdom had only three years before the next spring. If those years slipped by, there would be no hope of influencing the plot of “The Lost Kingdom.”

Unlike his previous world, Earth, the Block World knew no climate zones. Here, there were four seasonal years: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Each season lasted three years, and twelve years completed a cycle.

Every season brought its own unique effects. Summer brought intense heat, weakening sea monsters more than usual. Winter was bitterly cold, plants grew slowly, and monster spawn rates dropped. Spring was rainy, thunder and storms were commonplace, the sun was hidden behind clouds, and monster spawn rates soared, with monsters lingering on the land for extended periods.

That was the root of the monster tides.

Besides these four seasons, there were rare, special years. Such years occurred perhaps once in a century. When they appeared, humanity either enjoyed unprecedented growth or faced utter catastrophe.

History recorded a terrifying special year a hundred years ago. During that period, the sun vanished from the Block World, leaving only darkness and a blood-red moon. Under the cloak of night, monsters spawned at unimaginable rates, unleashing tides that obliterated human kingdoms. The red moon empowered monsters, raising their strength and speed to new heights; a common zombie could slaughter a veteran warrior with ease.

Within that single year, humanity was almost annihilated.

This era became known as the “Year of Calamity.” Survivors called it the “Eternal Night Blood Moon.” Of course, it was just legend—there was no concrete evidence. Many scoffed at the tale, but Mo Fangyuan believed it was likely true. All the traits of the “Eternal Night Blood Moon” matched a mod he’d played in his previous life.

He had crossed into a Block World almost identical to “Minecraft,” so why shouldn’t he believe these stories?

Thus, Mo Fangyuan felt immense pressure. Though such special years were said to be rare, Block People lived four centuries or more! Mo Fangyuan didn’t trust his luck to avoid such a calamity. He knew well how unfortunate he could be.

Hold on to hope, prepare for disaster—this was wisdom passed down from his ancestors in Huaxia.

“Everyone, give it your all! Let’s finish building this stone wall today!” Mo Fangyuan called out.

Under his plan, the stone wall would be three blocks thick, five blocks tall, and nine hundred blocks long, enclosing the entire capital.

All the building material was stone brick. Stone bricks were crafted from stone, requiring a novice mason and a furnace to make, and were much sturdier than raw stone.

If this project existed in his previous world, even the combined labor of the entire Block Kingdom would barely suffice.

“But this world isn’t governed by Newton!” he mused.

Fifteen builders working simultaneously could complete the task in five days. Four days had already passed; only a small section remained unfinished.

“The watchtowers don’t need upgrading, but we must build archer towers!” he decided.

As the most basic defensive structure in farming novels, archer towers were indispensable.

Mo Fangyuan longed for an archer tower like those in the “Clash of Clans” Builder Base—those could fire five or six arrows per second, barely slower than his own speed.

If only he had such towers, he wouldn’t need any other defenses.

“Your Majesty, three more refugees have arrived in the kingdom—from the west!” reported Aria.

“The west…” Mo Fangyuan felt a sense of foreboding. Previously, refugees from the north had fled a new Skeleton King, and the east had followed suit. Now, refugees came from the west as well…

“Could another Monster King be establishing power?” Mo Fangyuan doubted it. Monster Kings were hardly common; the plains already hosting two was miraculous. How could another arise?

“I’m not the protagonist—why would so many Monster Kings seek trouble with me?” he grumbled.

“Let Zhang San return soon…” he hoped.

Mo Fangyuan had no idea what was happening in the west, but he pinned his hope on Zhang San, wishing he would soon bring news from that direction.

“Achoo!” a thousand blocks away, Zhang San suddenly sneezed.

“Damn it! What’s going on?” He was sneaking when the skeletons spotted him.

“If I find out who’s talking about me, I’ll burn them, I swear!”

Sensing danger, Zhang San cursed under his breath and quickly used his skills and fishing rod to escape.

His slender, graceful legs danced through the air, creating a captivating scene in stark contrast to the grim skeletons below.

“Old Fu, these people are your responsibility,” Mo Fangyuan instructed the village chief—no, the city elder, Old Fu—to assign work to the newcomers.

Now, Mo Fangyuan welcomed anyone who wished to join the Block Kingdom.

The Block World’s special circumstances made it clear: urban concentration was the best path for Block People. The old model of small villages only led to monsters picking them off one by one.

“Defense…” Mo Fangyuan sighed. The Block Kingdom lacked combat professionals. With their current numbers, it was hard enough to protect what territory they had, let alone dream of vanquishing skeleton forces.

“If only there were a way to turn ordinary people into combatants… No! As long as they could resist their fear of monsters, that would suffice…”

“Wait!” Mo Fangyuan’s eyes lit up, a smile spreading across his face.

“Yes! Iron Golems! How did I not think of this before?”

In the original “Minecraft,” iron golems were powerful allies: tough, strong, often dubbed “iron blockhead”—no, iron tank!

A single iron golem was more formidable than at least ten novice combatants.

“With iron golems, the Block Kingdom’s defense and offense will be solved!” Mo Fangyuan’s smile became increasingly manic.

He imagined the skeleton forces beaten down, the zombie forces pounded, their kings transformed into girls begging Mo Fangyuan for mercy, promising to do anything for him…

“Slurp!”