The Most Vicious and Ruthless Predator 2
Alright. I get it now.
So, here's the deal. The terrain I received—the fragment of a god—is the Nectar Well.
No matter how I mess with it, it's still the Nectar Well. Even if someone tried to concrete it over, it'd still be the Nectar Well. Just at level zero.
Which means the amount of sunlight doesn't change. Nights still get cold.
Actually, that's exactly why day and night cycle so neatly here.
The terrain, the sky, the underground—some cosmic or magical law has already hardcoded what this place is supposed to be. Even if I smash everything until not even rubble remains, the sky stays the same and I can't dig up the entire surface. So whether there's rock or not, whether the top is swamp or lake, it's still the Nectar Well.
Let's use a River as an example. Say I used my jellies to merge the river completely into a lake.
It's still a River. Why? Because the god fragment labeled "River" is still embedded there.
So even if it's merged with a lake, the force that makes the water in the River flow should still exist. Or maybe, if it drops below level zero, it just stops working altogether.
“On paper it remains level zero, and it does function. Extremely weakly, of course.”
Thanks for the clarification. Let's push this further.
I could pour divine power into the River and twist its flow, make it meander, even connect it to the lake. Because divine power reacts to the god fragment inside the River.
And if I dumped a massive amount of divine power, I could make the river flow faster or widen it. That would raise the River's level.
“You understand correctly.”
Conversely, even if I perfectly engineered my jellies to build a canal that circles the entire world, that canal would never flow.
Why? No god fragment. I can't create a god fragment with divine power. Just like I can't make a second Nectar Well. Just like I can't suddenly generate a grassland here.
But I can adjust or twist terrain that already exists.
“That is also correct. In fact, besides supplying large amounts of mana, the normal way for the Nectar Well to grow is to inject large amounts of divine power.”
I already knew that from playing games. I just never bothered because the biological route worked fine.
Now, let's think. I assumed that if I expanded the Nectar Oasis until it became a sea, the aquifer that produces fresh water would disappear.
But that's wrong. Even if I scraped the land flat until no trace of an aquifer remained, fresh water would still come out. Just like the Nectar Well would keep producing nectar even if I buried it completely.
“Correct.”
So here's another thought.
The terrain of the players I just defeated—what kind of god fragments are embedded in them?
And one more thing.
What exactly is Life? Creating life with divine power seems to cost surprisingly few resources.
“I believe I can answer both questions by examining the opposing terrain.”
So I checked. Starting with the cactus forest where the hamsters had built their civilization.
Desert Forest LV.4: A desert terrain where cacti and shrubs grow. A haven of life that faintly stores <Water> underground.
Details: Numerous insects, rodents, reptiles, and various other creatures benefit from this place. A fragment of a being once called a god resides here. Through the player 'Darin Eu,' the creatures living here have undergone <Evolution> and become somewhat independent entities.
I see. So when it comes to creatures that were already here, both Life and the Terrain correspond to god fragments?
“Yes. Creatures directly created by a player—such as those made by Biin—are created with divine power, so they have some connection.”
The absurdly fast evolution, the fact that every world has breathable air and appropriate pressure, and the complete absence of lifeforms with fundamentally alien body structures—I'd chalked all that up to mana, but maybe divine power plays a role too.
So I can conclude that creating lifeforms that completely break conventional biological principles is impossible.
In other words, I can make my jellies hard to digest, but I can't make them completely indigestible.
“Correct. Even though different physical laws operate here, a single unified law still exists. Lifeforms cannot deviate that far from the norm. At best, the Dessert Legion—made by combining organic and inorganic matter—falls within acceptable limits. But creating organisms that can eat water and meat yet have bodies that can never be consumed is impossible.”
Shame. I was actually considering trying to make something like that. In the end, maybe I can create creatures capable of eating the Dessert Legion someday.
I'll think about that later. If I push this idea further, it means the form of Life is recorded to some degree in the god fragment.
So if I poured divine power into that Desert Forest, could I make desert plants grow in large numbers?
“To some extent. But you would still need to prepare the resources required for plant growth separately.”
Hmm. Then there's no need.
“Pardon?”
The evolution of the desert forest—its level-up—can be achieved through biological mechanisms and magic alone.
“True. That is your area of expertise. I look forward to it. What kind of environment do you plan to create?”
First, let's look at the other environments. Since the opponent has already played two games, quite a few terrains exist.
Just from a quick count, there should be at least four god fragments. (In my case, since Teimong River is level 2, the opponent's god fragment was probably also a river.)
Valley, Sand Desert, Gravel Desert, and the Desert Forest I just saw—four in total.
The valley and desert forest had been hamster territory. Traces of civilization were everywhere, and I could sense they had been cultivating cacti and mushrooms.
The underground is damp. Water must be flowing beneath the valley. Maybe the valley itself was once a riverbed that dried up… If I introduce water, I could turn it into another lake.
The two deserts, on the other hand, were genuine wastelands. There were traces of civilization, but nothing but rocks.
Curious, I examined them more closely. The mana density—mana pressure—was extremely high. Certain elements were also heavily concentrated. That was why magical beasts and spirit lifeforms lived there.
I don't like it at all. An ecosystem that runs purely on magic is far too incomprehensible and hard to accept for an amateur ecologist like me.
“I mean, it's not all the same kind of magic… The relationship between spirits and natural mana is…”
Whatever… Even if I listened, I wouldn't understand it, and I don't want to. I can respect the effort an otaku puts into writing detailed setting notes, but who's actually going to read that?
“Ah, no—this isn't an otaku's setting notes. This is clearly functioning reality in this world.”
Fine… I feel bad for them, but I have no choice but to say they live in a space I simply cannot tolerate.
Still, I do know one thing. Mana is also a resource. Biologically speaking, it's an incredibly impressive one. A resource that can do anything—basically cheating.
I edited the opposing world, which hadn't yet merged with mine, so that a mana desert would sit right next to the Nectar Oasis.
This was only possible because the world is made of space. Until the previous game, my Nectar Oasis had been surrounded by Teimong River and desert, but I could tear or rip that space and attach the newly created world to it.
Ah. So the reason I can't completely shred the world into pieces is also because the basic unit of the world is the "god fragment."
“Correct.”
Got it. Understood. Anyway, as I kept expanding, the Nectar Oasis that had been about to touch the river now had a desert and cactus forest zone between the river and the oasis.
The sand desert would be devoured by the Nectar Oasis that feeds on mana, sand, and gravel. The valley, given the spherical structure of the world, could probably be edited so that river water flows into it…
“You can do it. Good luck.”
So I twisted and bent the worlds that refused to fold neatly like squares until I finally succeeded in editing them back into a perfect plane. Technically it's still a sphere, but spatial understanding is just too difficult for humans.
“Once your divine power increases, your own stats will rise as well, making it easier to understand that space.”
That's good to hear. Now the next problem: how to handle the ecosystem here.
The desert and valley will eventually be submerged by the Nectar Lake, so I'll set them aside for now.
The real issue is the cactus forest. How can I make this cactus forest harmonize with my Dessert Legion?
The ant species that had been a slave race in the opposing world seemed to have been the original inhabitants of this forest. There were strong traces of civilization—they must have been farming with cacti.
But no matter how I think about it, how did they farm in a place with no water? Even in a fantasy world, there are things that are possible and things that aren't. Cacti are definitely creatures that need water.
The answer came a little later when clouds formed over the cactus forest and rain began to fall.
When the rain came, plants I had never seen before sprouted at tremendous speed from the desert, bore fruit, scattered seeds, and then died shortly after.
The herbivores native to this place came and ate the dead flowers and grass, consumed the fruit, moved around, and defecated nearby. Seeds burst out in the excrement and spread widely…
I'd been overcomplicating it by assuming fantasy elements. This was a classic desert plant ecology. Even in a desert, it doesn't mean rain never falls.
Instead, rain falls very rarely. When it does, the plants quickly absorb the water, grow, scatter seeds, and reproduce. The seeds are capable of surviving for years until the next rain.
“Interesting. So how do you plan to fuse this with the Dessert Legion?”
The same way I domesticated the field chickens.
“Chickens?”
Chickens originally came from Southeast Asia. They were birds that lived in the jungle. Once a year or so, when fruit was abundant in the jungle… anyway, they were birds that would eat a ton and lay a huge number of eggs when food was plentiful.
Then humans had a thought. 'This bird lays eggs when there's lots of food. So what if we feed it an enormous amount every single day?'
The result was a success. The chickens' biological rhythm adapted so they kept laying eggs in an environment of abundant food, and today they've been refined into biological machines that lay one egg every day.
“Wow. That sounds kind of cruel.”
I'll do the same with the grass in this desert. If these plants have an ecology where they rapidly multiply and die when it rains, then the moment they scatter their seeds and go dormant, I'll water them. Then I'll feed the herbivores, have them scatter seeds again, and water them once more.
If moisture keeps being supplied, these plants will go mad absorbing the desert's nutrients and multiplying, and the giant camel-like herbivores native to this place will eat until they're stuffed and grow larger.
“Hmm… It's a good idea, but how exactly are you going to water them?”
“Is Yogur-tosoth's magic just for show? If I'm not going to use him now, when will I? I'll have him draw water from the Nectar Well and sprinkle it.”
“Ah. Just magic, then… You sure know how to make use of it when it suits you.”
Once their numbers have grown sufficiently, I'll introduce the carnivorous puddings that have been modified to adapt to the desert.
The carnivorous puddings will hunt the overpopulated herbivores and eat their meat. When they die in the desert, they'll become nutrients for the plants that will grow again. Repeat the process.
As a result, because the puddings keep dying in the cactus forest zone, the entire forest will overflow with nutrients.
The jellies will eat the minerals there and clear away the sand, while leaving the seeds behind. The seeds here are already quite sturdy, so no separate evolution is needed.
“Then the herbivores will keep dying, won't they?”
“We'll keep evolving them so they can survive the puddings too. Artificial manipulation will probably be necessary. Large creatures have slow generational turnover.
And that large size was something they developed to endure the desert's heat and cold and the scarcity of plants by improving energy efficiency, so we'll need to make them smaller as well.
Most lifeforms don't seem to be that big anyway.”
“Well, I get the idea. Shall we go back to our original topic? How exactly do you become the most vicious and ruthless predator that plunders peaceful, growing civilizations?”
Simple. Now that I've understood the cactus forest environment, I'll turn that place into a hunting ground and create the most vicious and ruthless predator possible.
“?”
Just watch. You'll have your eyes opened by the miracle of evolution.
First, let's find candidates to evolve into camel-eating puddings.
Those will eventually become people-eating puddings.