I'm Trapped in the Block

"I believe you."

Hearing Iron Fish’s words, Cixing’s body began to slowly recover. He looked completely relieved.

"Can’t you recover? I thought you’d been hit by some kind of incurable attack." Iron Fish breathed a sigh of relief, watching the cracks on Cixing’s body gradually mend.

"There’s no such thing as an attack like that, is there?" Cixing was thrown off and asked casually.

"Then why weren’t you recovering? Maybe there is. That Gray Ore Race member looked strange. He might have had some weird moves up his sleeve. I’ve never seen that kind of colorful light before."

Cixing gave a helpless smile and started chatting with Iron Fish...

Mo Ling watched the scene for a moment, then silently floated upward without lingering.

’Is this the perfect ending the Ancient Mine Race was talking about?’

As if guided by an unseen hand, Mo Ling flew back to the Stone Ball and went inside.

The Stone Ball was now lopsided, its stairs and internal passages having collapsed from the massive earthquake.

However, the entrance was still open, and the interior was pitch-black.

"You’ve come."

When Mo Ling came to his senses, he was sitting on that familiar stone block again. The Ancient Mine Race sat there leisurely, gazing at the sky.

"I knew you weren’t dead," Mo Ling’s wristband chimed again.

"There’s still a little time."

Mo Ling had no idea how long "a little" was. He only felt that even after learning so much, the Ancient Mine Race before him was still shrouded in mist.

"What is this ’perfect ending’ you mentioned?"

"It’s when the hero defeats the Demon King, resolves the threat of world destruction, and lives happily ever after with his companions."

The Ancient Mine Race explained with a smile.

Mo Ling finally understood. As an outsider who had been watching the events in the Thorn Stone Forest from a God’s-eye view, he naturally felt there were still many mysteries.

But for the Mineral Race, they had defeated the "Demon King," and now their happy lives were about to begin.

"That’s how it always goes in fairy tales. A pity the hero didn’t get to marry the princess—that part’s a little imperfect." The Ancient Mine Race scratched its head. "The hero’s a bit of a blockhead, probably not interested in that sort of thing."

"I’ll also have to find a time to drop the Demon King’s treasure somewhere for them to ’accidentally’ discover."

The Ancient Mine Race mused to itself about the upcoming "plot." It seemed deeply influenced by human adventure stories.

Mo Ling felt as if he had been dragged here to watch a play, and the questions in his heart only grew deeper.

"Why are you telling me all this? Aren’t memories from within the battlefield supposed to be erased? Why weren’t Shibeng’s memories or mine erased?"

Mo Ling’s question interrupted the Ancient Mine Race’s fantasy. It turned to him and explained, "The hero is special, of course. Although I’ve lost control over the motivational signal now, I can still prevent him from losing his memories of the battlefield."

"What about me?" Mo Ling pressed.

The Ancient Mine Race gave him a strange look. "You? I have no control over you. I only pulled you in here so you wouldn’t cause trouble. Otherwise, you would have disrupted the plot’s development. Not losing your memory is your own doing."

When Mo Ling tried to press further, the Ancient Mine Race just tapped his Block head and refused to say anything more.

Unable to get any more answers, Mo Ling had to change his line of questioning.

"Did you also give the red headscarf to the Natural Gas Race? Creating a crisis with the deviant-vein sickness fits the kind of plot you want, doesn’t it?"

Hearing this question, the Ancient Mine Race actually looked a bit embarrassed and seemed reluctant to answer.

In the end, however, it explained why.

"I was having one of my episodes at the time. I suddenly sensed a large group of them die, and I thought my first-generation descendants were making a sacrifice to me. I figured they’d run into some trouble again, so I just grabbed a relic from the Thorn Stone Forest and tossed it over."

As the Ancient Mine Race spoke, a nostalgic look actually appeared on its face.

"That’s how they always used to make sacrifices," it murmured, seemingly lost in old memories again.

Mo Ling looked at the Ancient Mine Race, who was lucid one moment and confused the next, its expression constantly shifting. He didn’t know what to say.

The entire deviant-vein sickness epidemic in the Thorn Stone Forest was actually caused by a moment of confusion from the Ancient Mine Race.

But this just so happened to become part of the Ancient Mine Race’s "plot," cleverly creating a crisis.

’Talk about a happy accident.’

The history of the Thorn Stone Forest was finally becoming a little clearer. The Ancient Mine Race itself surely never expected that this batch of "defective" descendants would become its last hope.

"Are you satisfied with this batch of descendants?" Mo Ling asked tentatively.

The Ancient Mine Race nodded. "Of course, I’m satisfied. Whether it’s their application of materials or their understanding of emotions, they are all very impressive. It’s just that many difficulties still lie ahead."

At this point, it started to look worried again.

"If the fifth-generation descendants had been able to develop until now, would they have been even more outstanding?"

The Ancient Mine Race was still hung up on that batch of descendants.

Coincidentally, Mo Ling had also been wondering why the fifth-generation descendants had disappeared, so he asked again, "That great earthquake... it was related to you, wasn’t it?"

"Yes," the Ancient Mine Race said, lowering its head.

However, as they reached this topic, the Ancient Mine Race began to grow confused again. Its eyes suddenly went vacant, and it started muttering to itself.

"First-generation descendants, too dependent. Destroyed."

"Second-generation descendants, too weak. Destroyed."

"Third-generation descendants, too arrogant. Destroyed."

"Fourth-generation descendants, too complacent. Destroyed."

"Fifth-generation descendants... fifth-generation descendants... destroyed, destroyed..."

The Ancient Mine Race quietly chanted the events of the past, as if it had crashed, staring blankly at its own hands.

It clenched its fists and repeatedly struck its own head, but it still seemed unable to remember anything. Its expression grew more pained; that memory seemed to be a forbidden zone it should not touch.

At this moment, the ancient elder was like a helpless child, at a loss about everything around it.

Just as the Ancient Mine Race was about to break down, a hand rested on its shoulder, interrupting its recollection.

"Don’t think about it. It’s all in the past..."

Mo Ling gently patted its shoulder.

"Those things aren’t important. Why don’t you tell me about those stone pillars and ore veins? I’m interested in that," Mo Ling said, looking earnestly at the Ancient Mine Race.

"Let’s talk about something else."

Hearing these words, the confusion and struggle in the Ancient Mine Race’s eyes gradually faded.

It met Mo Ling’s gaze, slowly breaking free from its helplessness.

"Okay."

The topic slowly changed as Mo Ling began to chat idly with it about the Thorn Stone Forest.

As they talked about these things, the Ancient Mine Race gradually emerged from its painful memories, its tone becoming much lighter.

They also talked about Cixing. The Ancient Mine Race said it had never noticed him.

It wasn’t until a lull in the last battle that the Ancient Mine Race finally saw Cixing in the crowd.

At that moment, it was overcome with a feeling of surreal nostalgia, as if seeing a ghost from a past life.

"I can’t believe he’s actually held on until now." The Ancient Mine Race was clearly delighted when talking about Cixing.

"The hero needs a wise companion by his side, and I think he’s a perfect fit! This ending is absolutely perfect."

"Speaking of wise men, I think I count as one myself." The Ancient Mine Race puffed out its chest and began to talk about its past adventures.

It seemed especially proud of its adventures in the abyss, getting even more carried away than when it was talking about its descendants, chattering on and on to Mo Ling.

Mo Ling nodded frequently, engrossed in the bizarre and fantastical adventure stories.

However, just as it got to the exciting part, the Ancient Mine Race grew confused again.

It suddenly grabbed Mo Ling’s hand—which was resting on its shoulder—pulled his arm around its neck, then draped its own arm over Mo Ling’s shoulders and said excitedly:

"Next time, we’ll deal with that creature like this!"

"What do you think? Fire Thief."