World Collision - The Eleventh - Part 3

Both Biin and Umjeory had survived ten previous World Collisions. Naturally, some of those battles had been difficult. Some had been downright brutal.

But out of all ten, this one was by far the most overwhelmingly complicated.

Both sides’ primary weapons were completely asymmetrical. The battlefields they favored, their main forces, even the overall direction of their builds—everything was different. Compared to the “standard” civilizations he had faced until now, this was incredibly awkward.

In terms of raw weight class, Biin held the advantage, but he was the one forced to endure a beating while Umjeory could attack him one-sidedly. The matchup was overwhelmingly in Umjeory’s favor.

Since both sides’ direct offensives and reconnaissance attempts had failed using only their own capabilities, they now had to desperately seek new methods.

Umjeory only needed to solve his supply issues. He could respond simply by continuing to send creatures through the dimensional gate. In short, if he simply kept doing what he was already doing and succeeded, he could defeat Biin without much trouble. It was an extremely ideal situation.

In contrast, Biin faced a far more difficult problem from the very first step of mounting an attack, while also having to worry about defense.

If he didn’t do something, he would lose. Without any subordinate gods, Biin had to come up with solutions using nothing but his own knowledge.

The only ones capable of building active strategies within my ecosystem are the Legion Commanders. Naturally, in this unprecedented situation, I first gathered the Dessert Legion Commanders for a discussion and began issuing orders.

“Yogur-tosoth. Do you think it’s possible to destroy the enemy’s world using the dairy products from the Milky Way?”

“I’ll reduce my divinity by the amount of three clones and pour it all into improvements. At the very least, the magic-using Yogurt units are the only force we have that can counter the enemy’s demon legions.”

“Shuc-rimmurath. You will fight the invading enemies head-on. I’ll support the legions with as many troops as needed. Until our ecosystem adapts to the enemy’s diseases and poisons, you must hold out as long as possible!”

Sesaisa had told me that spirits and other beings who fundamentally live by riding flows begin by seizing control of the opponent’s spiritual realm and reshaping it into a flow comfortable for themselves.

In other words, the enemy’s primary strategy—and at the very least their second-highest priority—was almost certainly to destroy and curse the massive spiritual structure that connected my entire world: Creamland, along with the vast spiritual formation extending from it to supply mana to the Nectar Well, causing it to rot from within.

The reason the enemy wasn’t flooding in like a tidal wave at this stage was most likely because they lacked any Space-Time mysteries. There didn’t seem to be any other explanation.

“Nyaltartep. You stole a large number of plants from the enemy’s ecosystem. Can you improve these plant seeds to disrupt the enemy’s crops?”

“Understood. I’ll continuously supply you with divinity equivalent to five clones. Get it done.”

There was nothing immediate to assign to Chaltteoggua. The guy could only fight. So I turned to the last, silent commander.

“Wafflach-Nacha. I have an important mission for you. Open a passage to the enemy’s main base located in the spiritual flow realm and directly terrorize it. No matter how well you endure their attacks, if we cannot destroy the enemy’s main base inside the Great Phantasm, we will lose without question! Without your ability to weave space-time passages and travel anywhere, striking the enemy at all is impossible!”

Wafflach-Nacha seemed to understand. It diligently wove space-time mana and created a passage leading into the enemy’s dream world. We didn’t possess any Dream-related mysteries, but since it had the trait, it would probably be fine.

Having deployed the Dessert Legion Commanders like this and attached clones to each of them, I listened to their real-time advice while exercising and managing my divinity. With our current lack of information about the enemy’s world, this was the best we could do.

We could probably hold the dimensional gate stage with an ironclad defense using the Legion Commanders, but what came after that?

We could prevent defeat, but how the hell were we supposed to win?

I reviewed every plan I had used so far, but no matter how much I thought about it, the only answer I could come up with was: “Try various things to wreck the enemy’s world, but ultimately everything gets blocked by their counterattack, time drags on endlessly, and we absorb their world during the dimensional fusion stage and call it a day.”

Even that was the most optimistic scenario. In the worst case, my ecosystem could slowly get destroyed by the enemy’s diseases, preventing us from securing double the points. Would we end up negotiating a peace treaty? Or would we have to keep clashing until the twelfth round began?

The best immediate outcome was dragging things out until a peaceful unification, but if the fight dragged on, my side would be devastated by the enemy’s plagues!

I granted each of my clones different personalities and memories, turning them into a multi-core processor to generate new ideas.

“What if we manipulate the spiritual realm to destroy the enemy’s world?”

The clone containing Sesaisa’s memories spoke. The rest of “me” immediately shot it down.

“No. Our understanding of spiritual realms is still far too low. At best, we can only connect the enemy’s world to ours using syrup.”

Then the clone containing memories of conversations with Mihun spoke.

“What if we gather Space-Time mana and send Chaltteoggua ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠alone into the enemy’s world…? With his combat power, wouldn’t he be able to easily hunt their livestock and armies?”

“No… We don’t know what kind of powerful creations the enemy might have. Sending such a powerful creation through the dimensional gate at this stage means we can’t retrieve it. We’d be throwing Chaltteoggua away for nothing.”

The clone containing Wahando’s memories, primarily focused on military strategy, spoke.

“If the enemy is determined to destroy our world, what if we destroy theirs first? Then they won’t be able to do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anything.”

“Say something that actually makes sense. What do we gain by destroying them first?”

All the clones refuted him at once, but the one carrying Wahando’s military knowledge refused to back down.

“No, no. There’s something called a backburn.”

“……?”

“If you really set a controlled fire, you can scientifically prevent a wildfire, you know?”

“……!”

Dimensional Gate Stage, Year 1. Umjeory’s demon monsters slowly advanced into the Dessert Desert, increasing their supply lines and expanding their own territory.

There was no helping it. Dispelling a curse required at least a mystery of equal rank to the curse itself.

And no matter what, Yogur-tosoth didn’t have the luxury to learn dispel magic. Nyaltartep was better at biological treatment. So Biin had simply tuned his creatures to be highly resistant to curses while accepting that if they did get cursed, they would simply have to endure it.

The dairy products were only just beginning to train in the rudimentary mystery of decomposing and absorbing curses that had possessed living beings. It was, quite literally, rudimentary. There was no way they could defeat Umjeory’s demons, who had specialized in curses from the start.

Umjeory slowly began mapping out the Dessert Desert.

It was an endlessly vast and expansive wilderness, but if he could create a map, the most important locations in the enemy’s ecosystem would reveal themselves. And if there were no such obvious key points, he could still suppress them by destroying the keystone species and major ecological junctions.

Then, by chance, Umjeory received a report from a subordinate god that several hundred of his own livestock had been kidnapped into the enemy’s world.

……?

It was barely noticeable.

While Biin had used World Shaping to increase the land’s surface area, Umjeory had instead increased the density of creatures that could live within the same area.

In a land teeming with millions of livestock, the loss of five hundred head was…

The answer to this question came from the vanguard units exploring the Dessert Desert.

“Hm?”

No, he hadn’t. He couldn’t have even if he wanted to. Wondering what the creations were talking about, he checked—and discovered that in areas the vanguard hadn’t even reached yet, the plague was spreading like wildfire, killing off the life forms of the Dessert Desert.

“……?”

At first, Umjeory thought it was a rather novel suicide tactic. But a moment later, a chill ran down his spine.

Umjeory lacked any Space-Time mysteries. In other words, to cross into the enemy’s world, he had to honestly open a dimensional gate and pass through, or expend a massive amount of divinity to force his way in.

But what would happen if, instead of the plague slowly spreading from the vanguard as a starting point, the enemy deliberately brought in plague-ridden livestock and creatures and began scattering them across the world?

First, the life forms of the Dessert Desert would die in droves.

And then?

The creatures that survived and adapted to the devastated environment would remain firmly rooted in the world. They would reproduce, and the population would explode with individuals completely immune to the disease.

And it would happen several years faster than Umjeory had estimated. If that happened, even if he didn’t lose, his chances of victory would drop to zero. One of his core plans—the plague strategy—would be completely sealed off.

Of course, using this strategy would utterly devastate the Dessert Desert. But that was fine. An ecosystem environment that was completely fucked for all kinds of reasons was practically a tradition of the Dessert Desert.

When grotesque life forms from outside spread an unheard-of infectious disease that destroyed the ecosystem, the creatures of the Dessert Desert had no thoughts other than, “As expected of the Dessert Desert. After parasites, pollen, vicious criminal acts, now we even have plagues running rampant.”

Those who died simply died. The plague had spread so deeply that it even reached the Nectar Well, causing parts of it to rot. Yet Biin endured it all, accepting even that.

And no matter how close the Dessert Desert came to death, so what? The pathetic Umjeory, who lacked Space-Time mysteries, couldn’t project large-scale forces in the early stages anyway.

By the time Umjeory could deploy his troops, the Dessert Desert would have already fully recovered and developed complete immunity to the disease.

Umjeory was flustered. Truly flustered.

Among all the worlds he had encountered so far, he had seen those who searched for cures after being hit by a plague, or those who hurriedly trained in medical or healing mysteries. But never had he seen anyone with the insane idea of deliberately devastating their own ecosystem with a plague first and then slowly recovering.

He hadn’t even considered such an opponent. The vanguard units he sent tried to stop the infectious disease, but since they themselves were carriers, how could they possibly stop it?

And so, in the third year of the dimensional gate stage—when roughly eighty percent of the Dessert Desert’s life forms had been wiped out by the excessively rampant plague—Umjeory judged this the perfect opportunity and poured a massive monster legion into the region to occupy it.

Biin had already read that number in advance. He crushed them with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his strongest hand as if he had been waiting for it.

The “large number of elite entities that were not high-level superior individuals” who had been deployed were thoroughly crushed and annihilated by the Dessert Legion Commanders and their subordinate legions. They were the strongest entities, unaffected by disease and too high in rank for curses to suppress. They simply ground every single intruder to paste.

A sense of unease began to creep over Umjeory.