The Seventh Collision: Pollen Devastation

Legendary creations truly operated on a different level. Biin felt it with painful clarity.

Plants produced all sorts of bizarre chemical compounds. Every living thing was essentially a chemical factory, but because plants could not move, they had specialized even further in that direction.

Their primary purpose was self-defense, yet the sheer variety of chemicals plants could create was virtually limitless. Some became poisons, others medicines, and still others transformed into substances of remarkable utility.

And Tademoira, the legendary creation born solely to cultivate and raise such plants, was the Spirit of Floriculture and Horticulture.

Because its abilities were limited to the floriculture and horticulture domains rather than all plants, it could not handle grain agriculture or forest restoration. In its narrow field, however, it could evolve, cultivate, and generate useful plants at an unbelievable speed.

So Biin had it create a plant. One whose different species could cross-pollinate, whose pollen carried a lethal chemical that reacted violently with the specific genes implanted in the Gamchi, and which scattered that pollen as fine dust in every direction.

The flowers, grown across the Sky Garden—Mugite’s original territory and the largest area in his world—poured their pestilential blessing from the heavens down to the earth.

“Praise Lord Tademoira!”

“I love it! Tademoira! Legendary creations really are on another level!”

To Biin, it was nothing but demonic dung powder.

“Damn it.”

The pollen from Tademoira’s flowers contained a chemical that severed the bond between protein-based and mineral-based bodies in both the Dessert Legion and the Gamchi.

In short, any jelly touched by the pollen melted, while the Gamchi suffered twisted muscle and skeletal tissue that left them unable to fly properly and wasting away.

It was an extreme pollen allergy. To the Dessert Legion, the plant was practically death incarnate.

The fact that Tademoira had developed it in mere months of in-game time demonstrated the terrifying power of a legendary creation.

Without a countermeasure, the influx of pollen and the plants themselves might have completely devastated Biin’s ecosystem.

“Couldn’t we just push through with Yogur-tosoth?”

“Not that simple… The enemy world is so moved by that flower spirit that they’re pouring faith and experience points into it like mad. It might even reach Level 8.”

“Ah…”

Steady scouting revealed an even worse situation. When the enemy mixed the pollen with sap, the inedible bodies of the Dessert Legion separated into jelly and minerals. The minerals sank, leaving only the jelly on top—which the enemy’s inhabitants could actually eat.

At that point, even a three-stage portal assault featuring Dark Rims, Caramel Camels, Yanggaeng, and Yogurt units would likely prove meaningless.

Most creatures sent in the first and second stages would simply die after inhaling the floral scent, while the Bisyakheet would be hunted down by enemy heroes. Everything would end up in the enemy’s stomachs.

“Still, if we go all the way, we’ll win, right?”

“We will. The difference in military power and sheer scale is too great. They probably don’t even expect to win anymore—that’s why they’re sending surrender requests.”

In essence, could the enemy world simultaneously stop both Yogur-tosoth and Shuc-rimmurath’s charges? Biin doubted it.

So the plan was to endure until the dimensional rift stage, then crush them with those two creatures. The enemy had clearly reached the same conclusion, which was why they were offering surrender instead of negotiation. They wanted a “good defeat” rather than victory.

“But it’s far too inefficient. Especially now that they’re crossing the portal themselves, planting flowers in my ecosystem, and setting up safe zones and camps. They’re trying to kill the Dessert Legion’s jellies directly.”

Of course, with Deity-World Oneness, Biin detected them instantly. Yogur-tosoth went over and ground them to dust. For now, the enemy had no way to threaten him.

Still, would they truly do nothing until the rift opened?

Would they not simply mass-produce flower mages and slaughter the jellies and Gamchi in droves?

Winning while enduring that would be pointless. Both worlds would be left as ruins, making the next round nearly impossible to face.

So he had to execute the main plan. Before relying on Yogur-tosoth’s power during the rift phase, he needed to ruin the enemy’s agriculture.

Otherwise, once the rift opened, the enemy would flood his world with infinite pollen and force mutual destruction.

The problem was that even this would not be easy. The enemy had received an exceptionally good starting territory.

This was the land Mugite had received at the very beginning—a sky island specialized for plant cultivation.

Over three collisions, only sky islands or equivalent aerial realms had appeared. Even the fourth world had been a mountainous terrain connected to sky islands.

By combining these sky-island terrains and constructing an artificial Spiritual Realm, Mugite’s world had developed an enormous agricultural zone in the Sky Garden, even though its ground-level territory remained relatively narrow.

Because the plains beneath the mountain ranges obtained in the fifth and sixth collisions were nothing but desert and meager grassland, all food production depended entirely on the Sky Garden. That was acceptable—the existing land was simply that fertile.

Thanks to the harmony between the artificial and natural Spiritual Realms and the cultivated Sky Garden, harvests were always bountiful. Food grown there was transported down the mountains to the inhabitants below.

While moving supplies upward was difficult, sending them downward was relatively easy. Rivers flowed from the mountain peaks, allowing food to be loaded onto boats and delivered across the entire world ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with minimal effort.

This structure was remarkably stable—by design.

In other words, because the farmland was not on the “ground” but on a sky island reachable only by crossing the desert, climbing the mountain, passing through a city built on the peak, and traversing a cloud bridge, conventional civilizations could not threaten it. The fields lay above the city, not outside it.

Thus, Mugite’s world could endure even against powerful opponents simply by fortifying the cities, mountain fortresses, and villages around the mountain with walls and palisades. The farmland itself was nearly unreachable.

Attack the Sky Garden directly? Impossible. It was the highest-level territory—the true heart of the world.

At this seventh collision, even the greatest master of spacetime mysteries could not open a portal inside a god’s home territory and pour monsters through it.

Biin could not do it either. If such a thing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠were possible, every player would have mastered spacetime magic and ended the game the moment a collision began by dropping elite legions on the enemy capital.

Breaking through by land was practically impossible. Opening a portal in the desert only led to vast flower fields that melted every Dessert Legion creature. And even if one somehow crossed those fields, one would face fortified cities and mountain fortresses filled with monkeys, where powerful archers and catapulters rained arrows and stones from above.

Surviving that climb would bring one to cloud bridges protected by defensive Spiritual Realm structures. Only after crossing those would the enemy’s farmland—the Sky Garden—finally appear.

And if one could break through all of that, it would mean the enemy species had already been wiped out. Victory would already be assured.

“This is ridiculous. How is the farmland in the absolute center?”

Biin had good reason to complain. One reason his main plan had a chance of succeeding was that no one stationed troops in the farmland during wartime.

Normally, farmland lay outside while crops were stored inside cities for siege defense.

But a world where the farmland sat above the city… was an absolute nightmare. A frontal assault was impossible.

That was why the portal phase dragged on for years in a tense stalemate.

Confident that Biin could not attack his world, Mugite used those years to further strengthen his forces. He directly shared Tademoira’s mysteries, trained flower spirit mages and plant-wielding mystics, and raised highly defensive yet stable practitioners of the arcane.

“No matter how much divine power the enemy has, it’s impossible to rewrite the genes of every creature in their ecosystem! Evolving them in a short time is even more impossible! We’ll outlast them and win!”

Biin, however, did not adopt a purely defensive strategy. Instead, he harassed the enemy by constantly sending Bisyakheet, various Gamchi, and oversized puddings and candies.

But the enemy was no Elguano who had only raised Culture.

Mugite’s world had well-balanced stats across the board, including Politics. Their soldiers stubbornly defended against the raining Gamchi and jelly creatures. Though exhausted, they remained filled with the morale that they could endure.

Finally, the dimensional passage phase began.

“Now we can counterattack…”

Just as Mugite’s world prepared to send legions through the portal, something horrifying occurred.

A dimensional passage opened midway up a mountain ridge. Through it appeared Yogur-tosoth’s dreadful eye.

“Huh…?”

“Don’t panic! Tademoira! Prepare the defenses!”

Yogur-tosoth widened the passage and unleashed the most powerful and destructive magic it could cast: a fusion of spacetime, wind, and climate magic. It combined spacetime-rift flow storms with physical lightning, gales, downpours, and massive boulders that ruined the climate entirely.

Yet Tademoira, empowered by gathering the world’s resources, blocked the assault with its own mysteries.

Enraged, Yogur-tosoth poured out endless mana storms, but Tademoira desperately repelled them, determined to protect every being in its world.

Because Tademoira could also draw upon its world’s power, it held a clear advantage over Yogur-tosoth, who had to both widen the passage and cast magic. Yogur-tosoth’s spells were completely ineffective.

Yogur-tosoth was furious. But that was all. It had exhausted its mana and had no more spells left.

For Tademoira, the situation seemed reassuring. It too had spent all its strength.

Yet Yogur-tosoth had only been bait—meant to force Tademoira to exhaust itself with defensive magic.

Biin used his divine power to keep the widened passage from closing.

【Huh?】

“Huh?”

Both creation and god were bewildered. Was there a creature stronger than that? No, that could not be. Then what was coming?

Biin issued a revelation to the creatures of his ecosystem.

Because he had kept throwing natural predators into the enemy world to maintain balance, his creatures had multiplied excessively. He had force-fed them Nectar until their numbers exceeded what the ecosystem could normally sustain.

“What is that?”

Ninety-eight thousand Gamchi swarmed through the dimensional passage, blotting out the sky as they flew toward the enemy’s Sky Garden.

If those sparrow-sized Gamchi each ate just one ear of grain per day, not a single blade of grass would remain in the farmland within ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠three days.

Realizing the future, Tademoira screamed.

“Everyone, ascend to the Sky Garden immediately! Stop those birds!!!”

Meanwhile, as expected, the ground forces—Caramel Camel cavalry, Yanggaeng, Dark Rims, and other elite infantry—poured through the passage and began pressuring the surface.

The Sky Garden was not entirely undefended. Its own mysteries activated and killed roughly fifty thousand of the incoming Gamchi. But forty thousand survived. Somehow resistant to the pollen, the tiny Gamchi devoured even the flowers and began greedily consuming every plant in the garden.

“Ah. No!”

After the elite forces finished dealing with the onslaught, a brief lull followed.

The Sky Garden lay in complete ruins. Most of the military had been wounded or killed fighting the insane creatures surging across the desert toward the cities.

“Good heavens.”

“Yes. Tademoira. I’m counting on you.”

Confidently, Tademoira began sowing seeds and supplying nutrients to the devastated garden. It failed to notice several new species of grass sprouting from seeds carried in on the Gamchi’s droppings and feathers—plants that had been invisible before.

Even a legendary creation could not find one or two new blades of grass in such a vast garden.