The Seventh World Collision
Life = Tough Vitality (Plant): Possesses powerful resistance to every factor that threatens survival. It doesn't die easily and grows well anywhere.
Military = Size Advantage: Can secure an overwhelming edge when facing entities with lower overall stats than itself.
Industry = Shuc-rimmurath Spiritual Architect Promotion: When Shuc-rimmurath gains experience, its stat distribution will follow the specialized pattern for Spiritual Architects, and its Governance stat will rise. Requires the Spiritual Architect Promotion trait as a prerequisite.
Culture = Representative of the Species: Reduces the Culture cost required for hero promotion on a per-species basis.
Mystery = Spiritual Architect Promotion: The advanced class of Spiritualist. Unlocks the Spiritual Architect promotion.
Hmm. Not bad at all.
Life had risen naturally, and Military had increased in proportion. The jump in Industry came from Shuc-rimmurath’s absurd talent for building spiritual structures, so I went ahead and gave her the specialized promotion for it.
Culture had exploded after I upgraded the coral reefs. Since my world had an absurd number of species compared to most multi-racial worlds, I picked the trait that would let heroes emerge more easily across all of them. A hero even appeared among the caramel camels, so I named it Sweet Camel.
The gains in Tech and Mystery were smaller. There simply weren’t many creatures in my world that could actually use technology. Yogur-tosoth was handling the research on his own. Reaching Level 6 in Tech was practically a miracle given the size of my territory.
Rebuilding the Spiritual Realm from scratch had naturally caused Mystery and Faith to skyrocket. The end result was a monstrous ecosystem that hit Level 9 right after the sixth collision and was now knocking on the door of Level 10.
“Just how high am I?”
“Out of the total 16,777,216 worlds, there are fewer than 130 worlds with higher scores than you, Lord Biin.”
“There’s still one hundred and thirty of them?”
That number was more surprising than I expected.
“You have secured powerful allies in Lord Sesaisa and Lord Mihun, placing you near the absolute peak of the top tier. However, there are others who have formed similar groups, created powerful synergies, and manage their worlds far more efficiently.”
Hmm.
“Even so, you are not overwhelmingly dominant. In fact, among those 130 worlds, only a handful could realistically hold out against you in a direct military confrontation.”
“So I’m currently the strongest player in this game.”
The angel shook her head.
“If we are speaking purely of Military score, there is currently a player with 220,000 military points. That individual holds first place.”
What?
“How the hell do you get 220,000 military points? My life score is 250,000 and my military is only 150,000. Even if their life score is high, it can’t be over 100,000, right? Mihun’s military score wasn’t even that high.”
“I cannot disclose the details, but do you remember the player with 1,400 military points during the second collision? It is the same individual.”
That guy’s a meteor-class monster too. If we ever meet, it’ll be a fight to the death.
Oh, that reminds me.
“Can you tell me the current first-place score?”
“The rankings fluctuate heavily, but the current leader sits at approximately 630,000 points.”
Forty thousand points higher than me. Sure, it’s only about seven percent, but that’s still a meaningful gap.
Time to prepare for the next collision. Part of me hopes it’ll be easy again, while another part wants a genuinely strong opponent this time.
If I only face weak enemies, I’ll inevitably let my guard down… Still, the odds of running into one of the 130 monsters from the extreme upper ranks out of 1.6 million players can’t be that high. I wonder what kind of opponent I’ll get?
After surviving six world collisions without a single ally god—only lower gods—it meant you had a 1/64 chance of reaching this stage.
In other words, you had already won a 64-player tournament. Mugite, who had served five terms as a local governor solely through “results” in a world where the material and spiritual realms were roughly balanced, certainly possessed the qualifications.
Mugite had cleared the first three rounds through cooperation.
However, the game rules stated that even in an equal alliance, if the score gap reached double, the weaker side would be treated as defeated and demoted to lower-god status.
Using the polished skills of a five-term governor from a world that had never known true peace, Mugite had politically and peacefully subdued his allied gods without any military action, successfully becoming the sole superior god of his world.
He had no intention of treating the defeated harshly. After all, they were the ones who would manage the world in his stead. They had lost, but their contribution scores remained intact, and having acknowledged that Mugite was a far superior player, they accepted their new positions as lower gods without complaint. (In truth, the rules left them no choice.)
He fought the fourth opponent and won without much difficulty. His sky-island world, after transitioning through mountainous terrain, finally gained access to the surface.
He cooperated with the fifth opponent. Descending the mountain range led to a desert. Mugite displayed remarkable skill during the disaster phase—shifting every calamity onto the opposing gods and skillfully reclaiming dominance over the world.
Then came the sixth opponent. Mugite encountered a truly bizarre adversary.
Descending from the mountains into the desert, he found a civilization built on sand and rocky peaks. He genuinely wondered how anyone could construct a civilization in a desert.
But there was a method.
From the spiritual realm’s perspective, what looked like a desert had an unnaturally stable, dense, and diverse flow. If one failed to comprehend mystery, it would seem strange.
According to the angel, desert terrain was usually like that. While it made sustaining life difficult, Mystery and Faith became absurdly strong.
What had been truly fortunate was that the opponent operated a pure spirit civilization.
“What is this idiot doing?”
Pure spirits—meaning pure flows. They hadn’t possessed rocks or water. It seemed they had simply built an enormous Spiritual Realm and tried to dominate purely through mystery.
“Even if they handle mystery well, the stability of the spirits themselves is abysmal. Did they really not know?”
Apparently they hadn’t. Mugite’s species, which harmonized life and mystery, easily crushed the opponent’s unstable world.
After accepting their surrender and asking, the opponent—a player from a purely material world—replied, “I thought pure spirits would be invincible since physical attacks wouldn’t work on them.”
It seemed the player had won all five previous rounds using an invincible pure-spirit build. Of course, that only worked depending on the opponent. Not only were they defeated, but their entire spirit race had been enslaved.
“Actually, using these enslaved spirits to strengthen my existing creatures would be perfect.”
Mugite had also subdued the opponent’s epic-grade creation without killing it and incorporated the being into his forces.
He provided it with a physical body, supported its growth, elevated it to legendary grade, and rapidly developed his world by utilizing the opponent’s Level 8 Mirage terrain, Ultra-High Mana Zone, and special mines where unique mysteries formed.
The end result was a solid, stable world. Although the individual stat values were somewhat low, it now possessed one legendary creation, four epic creations, and various stats hovering near 20,000 each.
In total, the world’s combined stats reached approximately 160,000.
“That’s above average.”
From what he had heard, the baseline score ranged between 32,000 and 68,000. However, many lower-ranked players had already been eliminated while upper-ranked players continued to grow rapidly, creating extreme polarization. A Level 8 world with 160,000 points was only just above average. Players who barely scraped the baseline were actually considered bottom tier.
“The fact that this much effort only gets me this far means everyone else is operating at a similar level. I might drop out at the ninth round…”
Regardless, Mugite was quite satisfied with his world and civilization. He believed that even if he encountered a top-tier player, his political skills would allow him to easily turn them into a subordinate.
“There’s no way I’d meet a crazy bastard who skips negotiations entirely and immediately launches a war of extermination.”
“You are correct, Lord Mugite.”
His more than twenty lower gods agreed. Logically, a world managed this well would prompt even those monstrous upper-tier worlds exceeding 500,000 points to prefer peaceful negotiation and subordination over war. If the scores were equal, there was nothing more to discuss.
And lower-tier opponents would be crushed effortlessly.
True to his experience as a five-term veteran politician, Mugite’s reasoning was grounded entirely in common sense and rational calculation. He maintained stable management without leaning too heavily in any direction.
His greatest strength was having solid scores across all fields—enough to exceed the “average”—leaving almost no exploitable weaknesses. On top of that, he possessed many excellent heroes independent of his world’s base stats.
Then came the seventh collision.
The opposing player was “Biin,” someone fairly well-known even in the community.
Despite the gentle, almost cute tone of his forum posts, Mugite learned at that moment that Biin was a madman who possessed not a single ally god.
The diplomatic envoys he sent vanished instantly. The frantically opening dimensional gates and the monsters pouring through them made the opponent’s intentions painfully clear.
“The enemy world shows ordinary levels of development.”
It was an extremely solid world. A quick glance revealed no obvious weaknesses.
That also meant it lacked any standout strengths. At the same time, it had no way to stop my core strategy of monster swarms, nor any method to counter my main plan in a prolonged war.
“However, it will not collapse easily. It contains many unique entities with exceptionally high individual stats. The strongest among them is Level 7.”
Yogur-tosoth was Level 8. It was possible his stats alone exceeded the enemy world’s combined total.
“Well, that’s true.”
And now, it was time to reveal Yogur-tosoth’s true worth.
“Yogur-tosoth. Show them your majesty.”
【I have been waiting for nothing but this command.】
Yogur-tosoth had been devoting himself to research after receiving the Spacetime Boundary as his territory. It was terrain where one could learn spacetime magic.
While spacetime magic sounded grandiose, many of its applications were surprisingly minor—slightly accelerating the flow of time in a localized area to move faster, making oneself appear smaller, and so on. It was simply a category of magic, not some ultimate tier.
Of course, Yogur-tosoth—with his Archmage of Magic trait—hadn’t been researching such trivial spells…
World collisions themselves were phenomena similar to spacetime magic. In other words, spacetime magic could directly interfere with world collisions and open dimensional gates.
Large enough gates for Yogur-tosoth to reveal his form, at least for a brief moment.
Crrrrrrrrack!
Yogur-tosoth tore open the enemy world’s space, consuming an enormous amount of mana to create the gate.
It was only temporary. So temporary, in fact, that even Yogur-tosoth could not cross over. He would need to be higher level to learn a spell of that grade.
【KNEEL!!!】
But for that brief moment, he could still cast magic upon the enemy world.
Whoooooooosh!
The spectacular and majestic Yogur-tosoth’s Majesty—containing every performance spell he had used during the previous disaster phase: Beauty, Bizarreness, Fear, Oppression, Spirit, and Resilience—unfolded across the enemy world’s sky near the outskirts. (Had he been able to open the gate in the middle of a city, he would have used offensive magic instead.)
Although it appeared at the edge of their territory, its scale was beyond imagination. It was a colossal spell that artificially created a Spiritual Realm and drew in every nearby flow. While it wasn’t an attack spell, that very fact allowed him to cast it with even greater boldness.
It was powerful enough that every living being in the enemy world perceived the magic with perfect clarity.
Unfortunately I couldn’t see the enemy world clearly, but their Politics score was probably taking a serious hit right about now.
“What the hell is that?”
Mugite had already been on the verge of losing his mind from the unidentified monstrous birds (bisyakheets) that had entered the city and were destroying everything, along with the insane round candies (man-hunting candies) hopping in every direction hunting people. When a rift suddenly tore open in the middle of the desert—an area he had simply designated for basic farming—his shock was indescribable.
【KNEEL!!!】
What emerged was a demon with impossible stats. The moment it cast its magic, every Spiritual Realm and spiritual flow he had carefully built collapsed. An overwhelming current swept over the residential areas and cities.
Even though countermeasures existed, the city’s residents fell into collective panic.
“Hiiiiieeeeek!”
“What, what is that?! What the hell is that thing?!”
“Oh god! Please watch over us!”
The Politics score that had reached 20,000 points had just dropped by 7,000 from a single spell. One-third of his Politics score had been wiped out by one cast.
If he still couldn’t understand the overwhelming difference in power, he was a fool.
He urgently sent requests for dialogue, then negotiation, and finally surrender. The only response was a message stating that all communication had been blocked.
“W-what should we do?”
“F-for now, we should attack too, at least enough to pressure them into accepting our surrender…”
Even his subordinate gods were panicking. They had never imagined they would encounter an opponent with such a massive power gap who wouldn’t even accept surrender.
Mugite felt his vision gradually growing darker.