The Eleventh Collision: The Weaver's Gambit

World Collision — Eleventh — 4

Year two of the dimensional gate. At this point, roughly seven years into the dimensional gate phase, both Biin and Umjeory had suffered enormous losses.

If asked who had taken the greater hit, it was Biin.

“Whoa. This is brutal. My Life score isn’t even at 1.5 million right now.”

In other words, over ninety percent of everything had died. The world was essentially scorched earth. Even the species he had worked to preserve saw more than seventy percent go extinct.

The Gumi Trees had rotted and collapsed. The giant jellies had all perished. The genetically simple candies were reduced to a single surviving species. The Gamchi, despite their high species diversity, had starved in droves once prey grew scarce. Even the Bisyakheet had been decimated by disease. The Nectar Well was now half nectar, half putrid corpse-water.

What had increased were the Gels—decomposers that fed on corpses—and the Toppings that coexisted with them. In other words, only the fusion of the two, Syrup, had thrived.

Biin finally invested the Level 17 Life trait he had been saving: Parallel Gene Acquisition. A trait that allowed him to obtain the genes of other species, once per species.

The surviving organisms rapidly absorbed the genes of those creatures that had developed immunity to Syrup and the plague, granting them permanent resistance to Umjeory’s disease. Through his countless clones, Biin accelerated their collective evolution, ensuring every surviving lifeform either resisted the plague outright or could still survive and reproduce even after infection.

Furthermore, he lowered the plague’s lethality while increasing its transmissibility, slowly integrating the “ultimately non-lethal” Umjeory plague into the ecosystem as a permanent fixture.

Within ten years, the total number of organisms would return to previous levels. The reproductive power of the dessert ecology was simply that overwhelming.

Of course, the number of species had plummeted, so the score itself would likely be cut in half… but that was inevitable with any rapidly spreading epidemic.

Conversely, this was the lowest point for the Dessert Desert. The problem was that Umjeory could not launch a decisive counterattack from here.

It was not because he lacked forces, but because he could not send them. It was still only year two of the dimensional gate. While Umjeory did possess powerful individuals, he had no way to deploy them.

Even numerical superiority would fail. No matter how much divine power he poured into the gate, the sheer scale of the Dessert Desert and the strength of its legion commanders would crush any invasion.

No matter how desperately he wanted to subjugate this weakened world, it was impossible until the dimensional passage stage at the earliest.

But that only applied to direct ecological invasion. Umjeory had instead wandered through worlds where the plague had spread and resistance was low, searching for the heart of the Dessert Desert while clashing with its commanders.

“There it is. The Nectar Well. Just how many levels did you raise that single terrain feature? The Nectar Well has become an entire sea.”

An absurdly vast Nectar lake, and the surrounding wetlands that still retained vitality despite the plague—more accurately, they had died and recovered repeatedly. The creatures living there looked impossibly resilient. With fairies, legendary custom creations, the world’s strongest evil species, and even a Dessert Legion Commander (Chaltteoggua) present, it was obvious this was the world’s most critical location.

“If we destroy that place, those grotesque mineral lifeforms will lose all vitality. And maintaining that massive Nectar Well requires a powerful artificial spiritual realm connected to the entire world. All we need to do is drag that realm into a curse and pollute it.”

Considering how many had known about it yet failed to break through, and how many had never even discovered it, Umjeory’s ability to locate it on his own and plan an attack was truly exceptional.

“Shall we send an army? Let’s see how they respond.”

First, he sent a demon-possessed monster to connect with the Creamland on the surface, wondering if he could twist its flow.

“What’s wrong with you? Hey! Snap out of it!”

Both the demon and the monster that touched it went mad. Even though they had overlapped, they all became slaves to Shuc-rimmurath.

Normally they would have been destroyed, but thanks to the simple mystery Wahando’s hermit crabs had taught them, Creamland itself now possessed offensive power.

Merely standing there drained one’s mental strength. Direct connection was something even pure spiritual entities like demons and monsters without resistance to mental damage could not endure.

“Understood. Manipulation is impossible at this stage. Then what about destruction?”

If not through the ground, then through the sky. The massive spiritual realm floating above. He would open a dimensional gate toward it and send a legion of pure spiritual demons.

If he could even slightly distort or pollute its flow, that alone would be victory. So he attempted it. After all, opening a gate in the sky was not particularly difficult.

“?”

Opening gates on the ground was fine. After all, it was still the Dessert Desert.

But opening them in the sky was not. Biin had prepared in advance to block exactly that kind of terror.

It was simple. Every dimensional gate and passage the enemy opened in the sky would connect directly to the Milky Way, the terrain linked to the Great Universe, right in front of the satellites radiating space-time magic.

Unless one wielded a higher level of space-time mystery than Yogur-tosoth, there was no way to resist being pulled in.

And Umjeory naturally could not do that.

Nyaltartep’s level had reached 13 after surviving the disaster period. And Yogur-tosoth, who had seized the Milky Way and drawn enormous energy from it, was now Level 14.

Level 14 in name only—his individual power alone could shatter a lower-tier world.

The fact that Umjeory was not lower-tier but rather top-tier? It did not matter.

No matter how strong he was, it was impossible to defeat Yogur-tosoth with forces that could be sent during the dimensional gate stage.

“All lesser gods, gather. It seems we are facing a rather significant crisis.”

First, to summarize the situation:

First. Umjeory would not fall for now. Because Biin still had not found a way to strike Umjeory’s world. If he simply endured, Umjeory would surrender and be buried.

Second. However, Biin would win if the fight dragged on. Once the ecosystem recovered and he pushed with raw power, Umjeory’s monsters—inevitably weakened from being raised in a plague ranch—would be torn apart by the Dessert Legion, now immune ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to disease.

In other words, staying as they were was not the worst outcome. Since they would not fall immediately.

But Umjeory’s goal was not merely “not losing”—it was victory. He needed a better strategy than simply enduring and safely getting buried.

“First, we will cure the plague in our world. We will also treat the various diseases we had deliberately left alone. That way, at the very least, our monsters can stand against the enemy’s evil species when they arrive.”

Right now, Umjeory had chosen internal affairs. For a demon race that harvested resources from pain, fear, and despair, it was akin to a scorched-earth tactic—plowing under their own farmland to raise an army. Yet he still judged it worthwhile.

“And let us settle this during the dimensional passage stage. If we succeed, we can deal another devastating blow to the enemy world.”

Biin also believed this was a timing where he had nothing else to do but reorganize.

But unfortunately, that was not the case.

Surprisingly, the most advanced mystery in Biin’s ecology—farthest from intellect—was the highest form of mystery: space-time.

Yogur-tosoth was certainly a master of space-time magic, but Wafflach-Nacha was the true specialist.

Three years later. The fifth year of the dimensional gate, when everyone had expected nothing to happen.

Wafflach-Nacha, who had torn a rift in space-time, successfully infiltrated the enemy world along with his Waffle Legion.

∞

Wafflach-Nacha and the spider-like Waffle Legion he had raised emerged from the space-time passage, tearing through dimensions and landing in the enemy world.

Wafflach-Nacha might have been silent, but he was not foolish. He perfectly understood the orders his creator had given and possessed enough intelligence to make his legion follow them.

In short, Wafflach-Nacha began laying eggs here. Hiding in secret places Umjeory could not see, he started producing offspring.

From the beginning, Waffles were mystical lifeforms newly crafted by Wafflach-Nacha’s authority, extracting the mental aspects of living beings—such as the lingering regrets and asceticism of the Mi-to race.

Using Wafflach-Nacha’s trait The Weaver of All Things, it was entirely possible to extract the pain felt by the creatures here and mass-produce Waffles from it.

“Hmm. The supply of pain and emotion is lower than expected.”

But Umjeory had not noticed yet. It could not be helped. He had already adopted a strategy of reducing pain by curing diseases. It was difficult to realize ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that the amount was decreasing even faster than he had anticipated.

And so the new Waffles, born from pain, hatred, and fear, brought back negative emotions and pain harvested from other plague monsters to their parent, Wafflach-Nacha, who then crafted even more.

He created space-time tunnels throughout the enemy world, extracting pain from every direction rather than a single location, continuously baking more Waffles.

For the first few months, Umjeory simply thought the supply of pain was low. Then, in the fifth month, he finally noticed.

“Wait. Why is the pain supply this low? A decrease this steep makes no sense. At this rate, we won’t even last until the dimensional passage stage.”

This was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an emergency even for the demon race. In material-world terms, it was equivalent to a great famine plus a nationwide blackout. Several demon species emerged from their dream-palaces to investigate why the supply had dropped so sharply.

They interpreted it as a political or social problem. It was understandable. It was not easy to imagine that the enemy possessed the ability to create life by harvesting pain.

When the enemy’s observers descended to the surface, Wafflach-Nacha temporarily halted the extraction of pain and waited. His subordinate Waffles quietly followed their parent’s orders, holding their breath.

And soon, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the observers misdiagnosed the problem.

“Oh dear. Is that so? Then we should restore it immediately.”

But that small-scale destruction had actually been created by Wafflach-Nacha recently. They failed to realize this and the demon mystics repaired the spiritual realm, constructing a passage back to their main base.

At that moment, Wafflach-Nacha burst forth, killed the repaired heroic entity, and leapt into the spiritual realm along with the Waffle Legion.

“Huh?”

Umjeory was bewildered. He had no idea what was happening.

The spiritual realm, which absorbed only pain and negative emotions, judged the Waffles—creatures born from those very things—as resources it should absorb, and pulled them in.

Wafflach-Nacha used space-time magic to bridge the gap between himself, his legion, and the realm.

And so they arrived. At the enemy’s main base. Wafflach-Nacha and the Waffle Legion.

This great spider, who had crossed not only the boundaries of space-time but also the domains of dreams and reality, quietly gave orders to his legion.

The Waffles surged out, tearing apart and devouring every demon they saw on the streets. Though the enemy had built spiritual fortresses, the spider-shaped bodies easily scaled the sturdy walls and entered the city.

“Aaaaaah!!! Mobilize the entire army immediately!!! Monsters have invaded!!!”

Umjeory’s vision began to blur.