Chapter Eighty-Seven: The Ruins of the Village

"Rooooar..."

It was daytime, illuminated by the Mother Sun, yet faint zombie howls still echoed from the ruined village ahead.

Though these two villages had lain destroyed for a decade, many of their houses remained untouched by the elements. Instead, they stood as relics—now part of the very fabric of the Block World.

One could imagine how many houses once stood here, how many block people once lived.

"If they still existed, perhaps they would have already become a kingdom..."

Skirting the ruins, Mo Fangyuan sighed.

If only there were a kingdom of block people to share the burden, the Block Kingdom wouldn't have to face the skeleton and zombie forces alone...

"Before me, no ancient ones; behind, no followers. I ponder the vastness of the world..."

Mo Fangyuan couldn't help but recite a verse, overcome by emotion.

A warrior behind him quietly recorded these words.

Countless years later, scholars dedicated to studying Mo Fangyuan—the so-called "Blockologists"—would claim this poem expressed just how difficult it was for their great leader to liberate the block people. Historians, on the other hand, interpreted it as evidence of an ancient civilization predating the Block Kingdom...

"Will the Block Kingdom one day end up the same way?"

As if foreseeing its doom, Mo Fangyuan was shaken by his own terrifying thoughts.

"How could that be?!"

How could he imagine such nonsense?

How could the Block Kingdom possibly fall?

"Even if it could, I would lead the block people to break the cycle!"

The blood of China flowed in his veins, infused with the will of countless ancestors who defied fate. Mo Fangyuan was a staunch materialist—how could he ever submit to so-called destiny?

Heaven’s will? Nonsense!

Mo Fangyuan firmly believed that anything seeking to control the fate of the block people would be shattered by their own will, ground to dust!

He shook his head, dispelling those strange thoughts.

"Don’t disturb these monsters. Let’s move on!"

Even with a detailed map, Mo Fangyuan dared not let down his guard.

Back in the small valley village, he had asked the old chief for a guide, only to learn that their isolated existence meant no one had ventured out for a long time and no one knew the outside world.

So Mo Fangyuan and his companions were forced to proceed alone, unfamiliar with their surroundings.

Their goal was a small survivor village at the edge of the valley village map.

This village was the only one spared in the eastern region, nestled halfway up a small mountain with a single winding, rugged road down.

A decade ago, that very road had hampered the village’s growth; now, it served as a protective barrier against monsters.

Along the way, they would pass three streams, two village ruins, and one zombie village.

The ruins could be bypassed, but leaving a zombie village—capable of producing more zombies—would only invite disaster. It had to be dealt with!

Howling winds and snow blanketed the sky, visibility plummeting.

They hadn’t been long at the second ruined village when thick snow began to fall.

The snow made their progress treacherous and slow.

“Let’s rest here for today... First squad clear the right, second squad the left!”

According to the map, it was still at least half a day’s journey to the survivor village, and darkness was falling.

This ruin was much smaller than the first they’d encountered, but still met the standard of a large village.

Mo Fangyuan divided the field army soldiers into two squads, each tasked with sweeping the village for monsters, ensuring they’d cause no trouble in the night.

Creak—

The decayed wooden door groaned as Mo Fangyuan pushed it open.

He stepped into the nearest ruined cabin.

He surveyed the interior: battered furniture, scattered blocks on the floor, claw marks scarring the walls... and in the corner, a block person’s skeleton, pitted and broken.

All of it told the story of what had happened here ten years before.

"I’ll avenge you..."

Mo Fangyuan touched his forehead with his right hand, honoring the dead.

Snow veiled the sky; sunlight could not reach the blocky earth.

Mo Fangyuan kindled a fire to burn the skeleton.

Crackle, snap...

This block person had died so long ago that, upon ascending, he dropped no experience orbs.

After searching the house and finding nothing of use, Mo Fangyuan left.

The wind howled, white snowflakes pelting his iron armor.

Newton would have smiled approvingly.

For in the Block World, "heat transfer" existed.

The snowflakes chilled Mo Fangyuan through his iron plate.

"Damn! Not only are the monsters after us, but now even the weather has turned traitor!"

Brushing snow off his armor, Mo Fangyuan braved the storm toward a second house.

This one was in worse shape; the left wall had a huge hole, blasted open by something unknown.

Wind and snow, funneled through the breach, swept mercilessly inside, making the already chaotic interior even more disordered. Mo Fangyuan shivered even more as he entered.

He rummaged through the mess, finding nothing but a sheet of paper with writing on it.

“My dearest Lili, I’ve come of age this year, able to work and earn resources for living... Are you well? I’m about to arrange our engagement...”

[A useless love letter]

Just as the experience bar message indicated, it was a letter between two youths. The words were plain but sincere—yet perhaps they would never meet again...

Zombie claw marks marred the floor, a stark reminder.

Leaving the heavily damaged house, Mo Fangyuan returned to the designated assembly point.

By now, the field soldiers had all regrouped.

They stood in disciplined ranks, undaunted by the snow and wind, but Mo Fangyuan could see the complex emotions on their faces—he knew they too had seen things best left unspoken.

He said nothing. Everyone had to adapt in their own way; help from others was of little use.

"To the chapel!"

Upon inspection, the chapel was the only building in the village made of raw stone—little damaged and with sturdy walls, ideal for rest.

From outside, the chapel was constructed of two rectangular blocks combined. Aside from the shattered windows on the second floor, everything else remained intact.

He instructed his men to patch the damaged areas with stone, then walked to the front of the chapel.

Clank, clank, clank!

Iron boots struck the floor, echoing through the small church.

Mo Fangyuan stroked the mural-covered stone wall.

The mural was worn and faded, its colors mostly merged into one another.

But the bald figure was still starkly visible.

He was the most worshipped deity among ancient block people.

In ancient times, nearly all block people believed in Him.

He bore many great titles:

Master of Creation, Lord of Virtue, Creator of All Living Things, Guardian of the World...

But the most familiar title was the God of Light.

True to His name, He stood for justice, goodness, and virtue...

"Yet all those who believed in gods are dead!"

As a staunch materialist and inheritor of Chinese blood, Mo Fangyuan held nothing but contempt for deities.

If gods were of any use, why had all the block people who worshipped Him perished?

If faith in gods truly meant something, how could the block people be driven to near extinction by monsters?

There had never been any savior—no gods, no divine emperor!

The block people's future must be forged by their own hands!

What nonsense about gods!

What nonsense about destiny!

All of it was utter rubbish!

The fate of the block people could only be created by themselves—human will triumphs over heaven!

With a single punch, he shattered the last recognizable portion of the bald god’s image, rubbed his knuckles disdainfully, and walked away.

Gods did not deserve the faith of the block people.