Reconsulting 2
I dispatched a consulting clone to Mihun’s world.
The world had expanded dramatically since my last visit. A new realm had been added, along with another No-Man’s Land, making the entire territory so vast it was difficult to take in at a single glance.
Mihun never reshaped the land to suit the civilizations living on it. He left everything exactly as it fused. According to him, “The original world merges in its most natural state, which raises the terrain level even higher.”
To the other members of the Meteor Cartel who literally tore apart and rebuilt their worlds, his method seemed absurd. Still, since he kept winning by raising terrain levels this way, I had nothing to criticize.
From what I could tell, the first No-Man’s Land Mihun had chosen was the Great Phantasm. This time he had selected Great Nature. He had already been raising terrain levels by barely developing anything, but when the power of Inaction Nature was added on top, the result was genuinely awe-inspiring.
The most striking feature was that the entire world consisted of mountains.
This had happened because my Nectar Well kept increasing the terrain level and swallowing up the surrounding land. Mihun’s version was simply the mountain edition of the same phenomenon.
The terrain level of his core mountain range had reached a staggering 20. Because the level was so high, whenever his world merged with another, mountain chains would surge outward in an instant, devouring the opposing terrain, growing taller, and transforming everything into an even more colossal mountainous region.
With the current world size, a value of 20 was already pushing the limits of manageable height. If he absorbed many more worlds, the peaks could rise even higher.
Just looking at the mountain range itself, the tallest summit exceeded five thousand meters. Even the smaller peaks rose above four thousand, and there were already too many summits to count.
Thanks to the overlapping nature of god fragments, more than three hundred mountain- and hill-related fragments were embedded within it. On top of those, ordinary terrains—forests, rivers, plains, lakes, swamps—were harmoniously linked by the power of Inaction Nature, creating bizarre geological structures: basins and plateaus nestled between the endless chains.
At the supreme peaks, fragments connected to the Great Firmament and Constellations—stolen from other worlds—produced an eerie sight. The surrounding space was empty void, yet only near those highest summits did starlight fall, seasons pass, and climates exist. It was bizarre, and in a way, fantastically beautiful.
Descending from the peaks, genuine fantasy-style aerial terrains such as the Sky Garden and cloud districts unfolded, linking with the lower mountains.
At the edges of the ranges, where there was no true flatland but only sloping ridges, other territories like the Great Ocean stretched outward. Traces of civilization appeared as cities and villages built in the basins and valleys between the peaks.
This might be the only player whose world possessed nature comparable to my own Dessert Desert.
Even though I still relied heavily on a single Nectar Well and my ecosystem remained somewhat unstable, Mihun’s overall terrain levels were uniformly high and perfectly balanced. The flow of resources and energy drawn from both heaven and earth was overwhelming.
As I continued my observation, I paused at the sight of deep fog shrouding entire sections of the mountain range. When I realized what it was, I understood I had no business there.
It was unexplored Great Nature.
“You’ll need to expand the Great Nature trapped between the ranges at least twofold—maybe fivefold—before it starts looking like a proper domain.”
“This immortal is, of course, already dispatching ascetics to do exactly that. I have ordered them to seek out new territories.”
I could expand a No-Man’s Land indefinitely with nothing but divine power, but other players didn’t have that luxury. They had to send their creations to explore, then spend additional divine power to claim and anchor the newly discovered areas.
So while the mountains dominated the landscape, a rich variety of terrains, races, and civilizations existed with the ranges as natural borders.
Viewed from above, the tallest peak stood at the exact center of the world. More than eleven thick radial branches stretched outward from it, and along the smaller chains between them, distinct climates, terrains, races, and civilizations had taken root.
The races of this world clustered together in the terrains divided by mountain chains, treating other ranges as entirely separate domains. It probably wasn’t intentional, yet the whole setup looked exactly like a xianxia world.
Or maybe it was more like the age of dinosaurs. After all, Earth’s mountain ranges were taller the further back in geological time you went. Hmm.
At any rate, I had almost nothing to criticize about the health of this ecosystem. It was already superb. They were practicing nature conservation, and even if the civilization was centered around mystical creatures and the concept of , there would be little difference from my own approach.
“The amount of developed terrain has increased since last time.”
“Oh ho. You noticed? Indeed it is so. It is because the number of legendary entities has grown slightly.”
Let’s see.
First, Yeondan-u. The guy was still only level 15. I supposed that was somewhat fortunate…
Until I saw that two more level-15 legendary ascetics had appeared. Forget fortunate. Was he kidding? Three of them at level 15?
“One is Bisoun, leader of both the yao and bisa races. The other is Go Muhyeok, head of the largest ascetic sect.”
Bisoun belonged to a race that looked like a Bisyakheet with arms, while Go Muhyeok’s people resembled bipedal badgers.
“Those two are nothing. The legendary entity I truly wish to introduce is another: Mutagi of the Hwandu race.”
“Hwandu race?”
I shifted my gaze and found exactly the species with that long name—Wahando’s race. A legendary entity at level 14.
Its combat ability was merely decent, slightly better than a normal elite. What stood out were its absurdly high dexterity, intelligence, and spirit. A classic production-type entity.
He was currently inside an enormous workshop, gathering workers to smelt metal, infuse it with mystery, and create new artifacts.
“His profession is artisan?”
“You see correctly. He is the greatest artifact craftsman alive, as well as the foremost expert in advancing societal and civilizational technology. His greatest goal is to fully naturalize into this immortal’s world and spread civilization far and wide. At present, his life’s ambition is to create artifacts that rival the Divine Soldiers.”
He didn’t seem to be the representative for . In fact, there appeared to be no representative at all.
The system was still clan-centered, with families making decisions among themselves, or a primitive barbaric structure in which the strong simply took everything.
There was no grand alliance, no common religion capable of uniting them all…
Yet precisely because of that fragmentation, each civilization group had developed independently and cultivated unique cultural styles. Instead of exterminating incoming races, they accepted them as fellow members of the world, which raised their score even higher.
A high score eventually produced superior entities and elevated them to greater heights.
The dominant group existed under the name Mihun race, but there were so many minorities that the situation had inverted into one where “anyone who seizes the opportunity can grow.”
Even races from defeated civilizations absorbed by the ascetics could become ascetics themselves if they possessed talent, and that was considered perfectly normal.
In other words, this was an extremely multi-racial society with literally zero racial discrimination. The very concept of judging someone by race seemed nonexistent.
After all, every species came from worlds where everyone could fly and wield power, and each brought at least one special talent.
However, discrimination by status, wealth, and martial strength was very much present. Low status? No money? Weak power? Then you were beaten mercilessly and exploited. A truly barbaric political system.
I needed to consult on how to push this world one step further.
“So you want to add new yao races here?”
“This immortal originally wished to create a three-way struggle between human civilization, ascetic sects, and a yao alliance. However, Mutagi’s contributions to human society have been too outstanding. The finest ascetics are now being raised within human civilization, and even the ascetic sects that should be training deep in the mountains are hovering around human territories, hoping for scraps.”
“In a sense, it is a victory for civilization.”
“It does not align with this immortal’s intended path. The development of civilization and technology inevitably causes the decline of earthly qi.”
That probably explained the ridiculously low value. In the end, he wanted them to grow using their own bodies.
“And strengthening the yao races would solve that?”
“Correct. If the yao—who rule over the slave races through sheer power—grow stronger, the ascetic sects will have no choice but to oppose them. That, in turn, will naturally restrain the human faction that seeks to absorb the ascetic sects.”
“Why?”
“Because if they do not support the ascetic sects, the yao will dominate the world and that will be the end. They will be forced to provide aid. And thus the prosperity of the humans will also be checked.”
Hmm… So if I simply supplied properly prepared yao races, the problem would be solved.
To examine the current state of the yao, I headed into the mountains where they lived. Various races dwelled there, but the bisa were dominant, along with several monster races of similar standing.
Yet one thing immediately caught my eye.
“Huh? Is that a Nectar Well?”
“Ah. We obtained one during the previous collision.”
It wasn’t as enormous as mine, but they had raised its level somewhat. It was impressive to see the bisa treating it as sacred and sipping the flowing nectar in small amounts.
The yao operated under a strict survival-of-the-fittest hierarchy with the bisa at the apex. The strong took everything; the weak lost everything. Surprisingly, they generally left the slave races alone. Probably because touching someone else’s slave would mean fighting its owner, so the slaves were left untouched.
Yet under such a system the bisa themselves should have had the most powerful individuals, but they were actually rather weak. I could think of three reasons.
First, the bisa were so overwhelmingly dominant that the minor yao races didn’t even dare compete.
Second, the bisa had a stable food source in the Nectar Well and strong leaders, so they saw no need to compete.
Third, while humans and ascetic sects shared civilizational technology, the yao had developed almost no technology-related culture. Their equipment was weak, forcing them to rely solely on the Divine Soldiers Mihun provided, which in turn prevented further technological growth.
“Looking at the bigger picture, this world needs two more yao factions. One powerful enough to oppose the bisa, and a slave race capable of providing them with a unique technological civilization.”
“Can you create them?”
“I don’t make people. But I can provide the raw materials. Since you managed to turn Bisyakheet into people, it shouldn’t be difficult for you.”
I said this while another clone rummaged through my own ecosystem, searching for life forms that might suit Mihun’s tastes.
And in the process, I discovered something truly strange.
“Hmm…?”
“What is it?”
“Interesting. It appears ‘humanity’ has arisen naturally within my ecosystem.”
“Wait, what did you just say?!”
“S-sorry… I got too excited and…”
Both Mihun and I blinked, momentarily speechless.
Well, regardless, I shrugged at Mihun and decided to introduce the ‘humanity’ that had developed in my world.
“Two separate races evolved independently into humanity. They are outstanding life forms, but their intelligence is too high to remain comfortably in my ecosystem, and they struggle to fully display their potential. It would probably be better for them to live in your world at this stage. What do you think? Care to take them?”
“That is acceptable, but the fact that their intelligence is high makes me concerned. If they are not strong, it will cause problems, will it not?”
In response, I simply showed him.
Giant Sugar Lumps using magic to massacre an entire herd of Caramel Camels, then roasting and devouring their meat. Slender Sugar Lumps—about the size of Homo sapiens—who had slain Dark Lims, skinned them for materials to craft weapons, and were now consuming both the flesh and the Creamland the creatures had produced.
These were likely the evolutionary pinnacles of the Sugar Lump race: two opposing branches that had begun as beasts and ultimately evolved into humanity.
For now, I decided to examine their ecology properly. I couldn’t hand over goods I didn’t fully understand myself.