The Surprisingly Livable Dessert Desert 2
Surprisingly, the monks who had crossed over from Mihun's World adapted relatively well to the Dessert Desert. Not only were their individual combat abilities high, but their level of mystery was also immense, and as monks they had somewhat transcended the limits of ordinary living beings.
What tormented them was neither powerful monsters nor inedible, poisonous, or outright inedible crops. It was an entirely different problem.
“It’s… hot.”
The dinosaur monk leading the group spoke as he pushed through the jungle foliage. He was the highest-leveled and most experienced monk among the Mihun race, and the dominant species of their world.
Mihun’s original terrain had been mountainous, a temperate region so pleasant it bordered on chilly. The Mihun race that evolved there could endure cold surprisingly well despite their dinosaur-like appearance, but heat… especially in a world like the Dessert Desert that had no concept of “winter,” was nothing short of hell.
Meanwhile, the Mitomok race, which made up roughly half of those who had followed, felt nothing of the sort.
“Really? It feels just right to me.”
“Yeah. The humidity’s nice too. Our world was so dry…”
“Maybe this is our true homeland…”
It was. This place had originally been Mitomok’s world. Now it was a tropical rainforest teeming with Gum creatures and Mitomok’s wild animals. Instead of being devoured by the Dessert Legion, the resilient jungle had formed a symbiotic relationship with them, still maintaining its ecology as if symbolizing the unyielding spirit of the Mitomok race.
“True. We did hear this was your homeland… Do you know anything more?”
“We don’t know much. We don’t even know our homeland’s writing or language. But if…”
“If?”
“If there is a survivor of our race, there would be only one… a person named Jumito. That’s all we know.”
It wasn’t particularly helpful information. The Mihun monk sighed and continued exploring the jungle with the Mitomok and other monks of various races, felling powerful creatures like rice cakes.
Honestly, the creatures here weren’t that strong, but the frogs that screamed “GOL!!!!” at night were truly something he wanted to tear apart and kill. There were frogs that made your hand rot on contact, bizarre lifeforms that scattered feces, urine, and semen everywhere, and so on.
“Still, the spiritual energy (mana) is abundant.”
If it hadn’t helped with their training at all, they would have complained, but they were quite satisfied absorbing the spiritual energy here, occasionally fighting the Sugar Lumps that appeared from the forest and shot slingshots, and slowly continuing their jungle exploration.
Even among the Sugar Lumps here, there were heroic individuals, enough to make them admire the high-level martial artists, but unfortunately, communication with them was completely impossible.
After wandering the jungle for a long time, they discovered a massive lake while following a river.
“Hey. What’s that?”
There was an artificial-looking structure on the river. A city on an island. The terrain itself seemed artificially manipulated, with cities connected as if linked.
The Mitomok monks felt their hearts pound.
“Our homeland.”
“Ah, I see. It must be…! It’s our homeland!”
Over fifty Mitomok monks grew excited. The Mihun monk thought, ‘It looks like a ruined city with not a single survivor,’ but they still needed to check.
When they asked someone skilled in detection techniques, the answer came flatly.
“There’s not a single person there. Only animals.”
“I see…”
The Mihun monk lost interest and tried to head elsewhere. He felt an unsettling premonition.
But half the group insisted they had to go even if it meant death, so the Mihun monk decided to leave them behind to sightsee their homeland and departed with about fifty monks of various races.
The Mitomok monks, greatly excited, approached the city. The closer they got, the more their bodies felt uplifted by the effects of the legendary heritage present there, which granted powerful advantages to the Mitomok race.
“This is our homeland…”
“There are clear traces of recent construction. Jumito must have built it, right?”
They grew simply by retracing the history carved into stone. Because they alone retained the original genes of the Mitomok race without evolution, the heritage responded only to them.
“He left everything in pictures in case we forgot our writing.”
“But we can understand. Our race fought this world and perished gloriously…”
Another surprise was that the wild animals here showed clear friendliness toward the Mitomok race and approached them.
It was probably because the genes Jumito and his god had created, which made them cooperative toward the Mitomok, still remained. They were guardians who protected this jungle by cooperating with other species to hunt against the Dessert Legion, the most powerful beings in the world, and they had been waiting for the return of the race that had departed while preserving their spirit.
“Wait a moment. Over there, where the flow gathers.”
“Yes. Someone’s there!”
Approaching, they found an emaciated white skeleton lying reverently on an altar. Seeing it, tears burst forth and they fell to their knees in spontaneous worship.
It was Jumito. The one who had built this city alone. His soul had been given a funeral, and his body could no longer be felt, but they knew their ancestor had been here.
“B-but why did the immortal one perish?”
Their question was soon answered. Wafflach-Nacha descended from Creamland, established in the sky—more precisely, the Great Boundary—riding spiderwebs, having sensed the unrest in the city.
“……!”
【…….】
Though the Mitomok monks took combat stances at the overwhelming presence, the giant waffle-faced spider surprisingly showed no hostile intent.
Wafflach-Nacha carefully approached and communicated through intent. Receiving the transmission, the Mitomok monks shed tears once more and knelt before Wafflach-Nacha, worshiping their ancestor reborn in a new form.
It seemed the Mitomok monks had decided they would rather become Wafflach-Nacha’s followers than live as monks of Mihun’s World.
∞
“Retreat! Retreat!”
The Dessert Desert Expedition Battalion, the 1st Battalion of the 1st Regiment of the 1st Division of the Immortal, Invincible, Legendary, Ironclad Frontline Army, was the most elite unit.
This elite force had tearfully been dropped into the Dessert Desert, wandered the grasslands, and unfortunately entered Yogur-tosoth’s territory. When told to submit to Yogur-tosoth or die, they declared they believed only in their own system, fought, and ended up fleeing without landing a single blow.
“To think such a powerful being existed.”
“It must be the ruler of this Dessert Desert, the proxy of a god.”
Fortunately, with the help of the mystics and various tools including smoke grenades, they escaped from “that monster” with only 10% losses, but losses were still losses.
So they fled as far as possible from the grasslands into an ordinary undeveloped area mixed with grasslands, jelly colonies, and hilly terrain.
“I sense divinity. There seems to be a god fragment in this terrain.”
“Oh?”
By the tenth collision, mystery studies had advanced enough that creations could distinguish between Holy Sites containing god fragments and Ownerless Lands without them.
It was an important issue. Because Holy Sites naturally emitted or condensed flows, which conversely meant resources could be harvested there.
“We’ll analyze the properties of this Holy Site!”
The hermit crab mystics manipulated the flows here with their antennae and pincers. It wasn’t magic using , nor shamanism using . It was “Mind Art (Psychic)” using .
A type of mystery most suited to civilizations with high values. The opposite of shamanism, which relies on innate talent, and unlike magic, which requires learning but also some talent to reach mastery, this mystery developed through constant effort and systematic education.
Even if the source differed, the resulting output was the same. Using pure mental power, they discerned the properties and effects of this Holy Site and drew them out.
“Kuaaaaaak!”
The mystics who approached the Holy Site screamed and rolled on the ground in such agony that their shells nearly came off. Shocked by their unbelievable suffering, the others asked.
“What happened!”
“Kak! Kuk! The flow! Such an immense flow!”
“What do you mean!”
“I-I see it! Black fog! That being leading thousands of offspring! Hua! Uwaaaa!”
Those connected to the Holy Site fell into madness. They had no idea.
All Holy Sites in this world were connected by Syrup, and an artificial spiritual realm called Creamland had been overlaid on both the earthly spiritual lands and the heavenly spiritual realms.
Created with the knowledge of Sesaisa, the Tyrant of Living Hell, and refined through natural evolution and powerful mysterious lifeforms like the Dessert Legion commanders. It was an extremely powerful spiritual structure that generated tremendous in a world where almost no one believed in gods.
Sesaisa had no interest, and Biin knew nothing of it, but Creamland, which bound all Holy Sites in the world into one and overlaid a spiritual structure powerful enough not to be overwhelmed, would drive even ordinary beings who connected with raw into madness from the torrent of flows composed of , , , , and more that overflowed across the entire world.
This was also why the three civilizations that had invaded the Dessert Desert—Ogolraeot, Mitomok, and Dindinaron—had been unable to seize the world and instead chose to destroy it completely. The power of that flow was beyond description.
“Captain! They seem completely consumed by madness. Make a decision!”
“In the end… we have no choice but to execute them……!”
No matter how much it was an order, killing comrades was unpleasant. But when the commander made his decision and brought the blade attached to his pincer to their necks, their reaction became strange.
【“More!”】
“?”
It sounded like overlapping voices. The expedition battalion commander noticed the dissonance and watched closely.
【“I want more! More! More!”】
“What do they want?”
The hermit crab’s eyes clicked grotesquely as it looked at them.
【“Who… are you???”】
A cracked, splitting voice. Hearing a voice overlapping with his subordinate’s, the expedition battalion commander overcame the feeling of his mind being invaded and asked back.
“We are the Dessert Desert Expedition Battalion of the Immortal, Invincible, Legendary, Ironclad Frontline Army. Who are you! Are you the god of this place?”
【“I am Shuc-rimmurath! The Second Legion Commander of the Dessert Legion!”】
“Second Legion Commander…!”
Yogur-tosoth, whom they had fought moments ago, was the First Legion Commander. If so, was this being the second-in-command of this world?
【“Who are you?! Your intelligence is clear! High-intelligence beings must not exist in this ecosystem!”】
“What is the reason!”
【“Reason? Reason…. I don’t know! But they must not exist!”】
“Even though we are not originally residents of this world?”
【“Ugh…! No! That’s fine! I just destroy and eat what you build!”】
The one they were conversing with seemed to have low intelligence.
But intelligence itself clearly existed. At least some form of conversation was possible.
“Why do you do that?”
【“Why? That’s my job! Connecting this ecosystem into one is my job! My mission! My duty!”】
“We won’t interfere with that! If there’s something you want, we’ll provide it!”
【“Want? Want! I want more! I want a lot! More things! Much more!”】
“What? Perhaps we can make a deal!”
【“Deal? Deeeeeal? Deal……!”】
Shuc-rimmurath thought. This was a situation she had never encountered in her life. Beings asking questions that her crude reasoning could not reach had appeared.
Unable to judge properly, Shuc-rimmurath called upon her god for the first time since her creation. Because she could not grasp how to deal with these unidentified beings who had invaded her through Creamland.
And this brought a great question to Biin as well.
Was trading with the wild possible for civilized beings?
Then what difference was there from a civilization that merely had a different form?
In other words, to what extent should “intelligent beings” be permitted?
The problem he had been turning a blind eye to since the appearance of the Sugar Lumps had been abruptly brought to the surface by the invasion of outsiders.