The Fourth Meteor
The True Immortal Mihun, who had provided the stage for this game, was—to be frank—completely clueless about how to manage a world.
The only thing he truly understood was how to grow stronger. The so-called Immortal Path, the修仙大道 that allowed insignificant creatures to ascend to the level of True Immortals like himself, and even further to the realm of Divine Immortals.
The world he came from, the environment he had fought in, made becoming overwhelmingly powerful far too easy. Since raw strength alone could solve everything, civilization had never truly developed.
It was a world where technology was replaced entirely by mysticism—represented by cultivation techniques and immortal arts.
That was why he had been genuinely shocked to learn that worlds like this one, which grew through scarcity of mysticism and raw power, were considered the “standard.”
Even when he had reached the True Immortal realm and become aware of beings from other dimensions, he had been astonished. But the idea that one could build an entire world around civilization itself left him even more dumbfounded.
To be honest, he had never imagined that something as mundane as civilization could ever rival a True Immortal like himself.
In any case, this meant Mihun had entered this world as a student, here to learn about civilization and the laws that governed it.
He was nothing more than a player who could wield “slightly more authority than what was officially permitted,” who knew the path to power better than any of the one billion other players.
During his sixth victory, Mihun had handed the enemy world over to the Bisyak species—a race evolved from Biin’s Bisyakheets—and set them against his existing territories. He knew that without competition, growth required constant micromanagement.
Even if he synchronized his perception of time with the world’s and used his split souls to observe every single life in existence, it was still an overwhelming burden.
Frankly, there was a high chance he would ruin everything if he meddled too much.
Then, when he used Yeondan-u—a Level 12 Daoist—to shatter the defenses of his seventh opponent, who had relied on a strategy of absolute defense and cooperation, and unified their world, Mihun’s territory split into three distinct zones.
The first was what had once been the seventh opponent’s world: a realm of humans who had properly built a civilization. They understood cooperation and morality, but they were weak.
The second was the world Mihun had nurtured up to his fifth victory: a realm ruled by cultivation sects and powerful Daoists, a world governed by pure strength.
The third was the world taken in his sixth victory—the domain of the Bisyak species, a monstrous realm of yao races. They too were cultivators.
He arranged it so the three factions competed with one another, sharing cultivation methods. The humans would supply resources to the Daoists, while the yao races plundered resources by killing anyone they wished. If the yao ever attacked the humans, the Daoists would drive them back, maintaining a delicate balance.
And standing apart from all three was the neutral transcendent, Yeondan-u. He was the only Daoist who recognized Mihun’s existence.
That’s right. Put another way, the ordinary inhabitants of this world had no idea Mihun even existed.
The gods of the conquered worlds even assumed Yeondan-u himself was the enemy deity. That alone said everything.
Mihun had deliberately kept himself hidden. He believed that if great beings constantly watched over their actions, it would only hinder their cultivation. He had experienced this himself.
So he simply divided his split souls to observe the fates of ordinary people and gently guided them toward becoming Daoists or achieving better development. That was the extent of his intervention.
Alternatively, he focused on managing the things attached to his own body—those grandly named “god fragments”—and worked to raise the terrain level. That too was one of his specialties.
After all, he raised them with the same sensation as tempering his own body.
“The level of the Daoists has risen nicely. At this point, we shouldn’t lose to any world we face.”
“Among all entities currently participating in the game, Yeondan-u is indeed the strongest. Whether in pure combat or total stat value.”
“Oh! Is that so? The only regret is that only Dan-u is this powerful. It would be good to have other Daoists of comparable strength.”
Mihun reflected on the techniques he had learned from his assistants—arts that had reached the level of true immortal magic—and used them to refine his world.
The God of Life, Biin, had the talent to extract the maximum terrain potential from a world simply by creating a few lifeforms.
The God of the Spiritual Realm, Sesaisa, had been introduced to him by Biin. That one possessed the ability to fundamentally stabilize spiritual flows and create something akin to god fragments. By learning a portion of his techniques, Mihun had been able to polish his own world.
And then there was the first assistant he had met. Thanks to that peculiar race, when Mihun had known nothing about the development of civilization, he had at least been able to build houses, make clothes, and establish the foundations of society.
But the most unique thing was probably their perspective on flow. Teaching that being a powerful cultivation method had been quite frightening, but in exchange, his own world had developed far beyond his expectations. A good trade, all in all.
“If the number of Daoists increases, there will be no one capable of defeating this immortal’s world.”
One Legendary entity.
Yet eleven Epic entities.
Nearly fifty Heroic entities.
Mihun’s world.
While the combat power of ordinary civilians was pathetically weak, his elite forces alone numbered close to two hundred thousand. With the expansion gained from his seventh victory, his world would ascend to even greater heights.
“Mihun-nim. Which no-man’s land would you like to expand into?”
“The Great Phantasm, if you please.”
The space that gave birth to the fates necessary for forming spiritual roots—the most crucial element in learning cultivation methods and training. Connecting with it would dramatically raise the level of his Daoists.
Compared to the unlucky Biin and Sesaisa, Mihun was sailing smoothly. For now, at least.
The momentum of Daoists who could overwhelm and crush all who opposed them. The one commanding them was none other than the ‘Demonic Immortal of the Wild Dragon.’ He had come to think of himself that way.
∞
This was Terasion, once the Rank 1 player. His sixth collision against a hellish disaster zone and a world armed with poison had caused catastrophic ecological destruction. So his seventh world needed to be something decent.
The world he encountered in the seventh collision was a militaristic nation centered around politics and industry, heavily armed with powerful military forces.
“Ah! Please, God!”
“Excuse me, but Terasion-nim is that very god.”
His Life score was low, but he had weight. Terasion absorbed the enemy’s poison-armed lifeforms into his own world and successfully incorporated their Poison and Curse mysticisms.
As a result, he achieved harmony between his original life-friendly mysticisms and the new powers of poison, curse, life, and death, neutralizing the enemy world’s military.
Fortunately, the opposing world seemed to have no next plan beyond a single military push.
Having lost to asymmetric power, Terasion easily conquered their world. Afterward, he accepted the surrender of the enemy god—who had once held Rank 1 through internal affairs—and actively utilized that god’s abilities. In the end, he successfully dragged his world’s weight class back up to the very top tier.
“To escape these horrible worlds, we need to go far. Please select The Great Ocean as the no-man’s land!”
“Understood. Selecting The Great Ocean means your world will no longer be perfectly spherical. You are aware that a boundary will form on the outer edge and begin expanding, yes?”
“I am aware… Wait a moment. I have a question. If it expands infinitely sideways like that, what is the point of expanding the no-man’s land with every collision?”
“Ah. While it can extend infinitely, any expansion beyond the designated area during the next world collision will be completely annihilated.”
“Annihilated…?”
“To be precise, the world’s binding force weakens and those sections break off. If there is a region you explored extensively and absolutely do not wish to abandon, you may expend divine power to hold onto it. The same applies to The Great Underworld, which expands infinitely downward.”
“Hmm. I see.”
“Also, those broken-off no-man’s lands can sometimes be absorbed into another player’s world during their own expansion process. So it is not complete annihilation.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. The total area of no-man’s lands within the game is also limited. In other words, it is finite. Therefore, someone may obtain those broken-off sections.”
Terasion simply thought, Oh, I see~ and moved on. The organizers seemed nearly omnipotent. There was no point in nitpicking.
He was solely focused on turning his world into an ideal one. Purely orthodox. Thoroughly efficient play aimed at gaining more points and winning.
He truly was the ‘Holy Emperor of Utopia.’ The one who had risen this far by accepting the surrender of every opponent.
∞
Right after winning the seventh collision. One of my clones went to deliver a message to Tademoira, while the others were adjusting the world that had been transformed by The Great Nature.
This task took an extremely long time. As the personality in charge of the community, I was focused on the upcoming eighth round.
In other words, I wanted to gather 2,802,314 points during the shop phase to purchase my second Mythic trait, so I was looking for ways to earn points.
One of my clones was already dispatched externally, consulting on another player’s ecosystem.
However, most of them opted for limited divine power in exchange for paying points, so it was still far from my goal. Especially since everyone wanted to buy high-grade traits during the shop phase.
“How many points do you currently have?”
“1.32 million.”
“Not bad.”
I’ve been hustling hard with sales… Will my ecosystem score exceed a million in the next victory?
That’s the hard part. If the opponent is easy, maybe. But if I run into a strong enemy, my score will plummet and my income will take a massive hit. There’s a limit to what I can earn through consulting.
“What about trade?”
I don’t have anything to sell except my own abilities. Information about the Dessert Legion leaking outside would be fatal.
Selling nectar would gradually reduce the world’s mana…
Selling raw materials like metals is somewhat better, but right now those are also resources for creating lifeforms.
“What if we sold trash?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, stuff like that.”
What was he talking about? The remains of lifeforms that had lost in the survival competition were scattered everywhere across the world.
The shells of breads and jellies that had died of old age, been beaten to death, or eaten. They were lying all over the place. Some crumbled away, but because they were so durable, quite a lot remained.
Some looked like clams, some like ammonites, some like things just placed on top… Anyway, the shells made of metal and precious metals were absurdly numerous. There were also quite a few glassy and mineral shells.
“More than half of their composition is metal. Wouldn’t that fetch quite a few points?”
“The gamchis use them for building nests and there’s still plenty left over, so definitely.”
I posted the bread shells that were being mass-produced in the community with no proper way to dispose of them… Hmm… I put up the bread crusts.
When I checked their resource components, they seemed somewhat useful, so I set the price fairly high. No one bought them. Maybe I should lower the price… Just as I was thinking that—
Looks like there’s room for additional trade. Should I accept?
[Wahando: Greetings.]
A very polite tone. I responded normally.
[Biin: Mhm mhm. Hello hello lol]
[Wahando: I have taken great interest in the materials you have listed. I would like to request additional supply if possible. I do not know how they were mined, but they appear to be highly pure and refined mixed metals. I was deeply impressed and would like to establish continuous supply and exchange.]
A very clean and courteous request. I thought for a moment.
[Biin: lololol thanks thanks. So how many points are you thinking? I can supply quite a lot of this.]
[Wahando: Instead of points, how about we exchange materials between our worlds? My world’s Industry level is extremely high. If you desire any products, I can manufacture them for you.]
[Biin: T_T I don’t really have any products I want. If it’s not points, trading might be difficult.]
[Wahando: Then how about maintaining a non-aggression pact for as long as we continue trading?]
…What the hell is this nonsense? So you’re saying you won’t make a non-aggression pact otherwise?
[Biin: Huh? I don’t really get it. Can you explain what benefit this gives me T_T]
And then the guy named Wahando gave an absolutely ridiculous answer.
[Wahando: At the time of the seventh collision, my Military score was 225,399 points. (Verified Truth)]
For a moment, my mind went completely blank.
What?
“At this point of contact, I can tell you that at every collision point, Player ‘Wahando’ has never failed to hold the number one Military score. At every point, he has also been capable of defeating Yogur-tosoth through his own power alone.”
[Wahando: In my homeland, I was called the ‘Overlord of Shurado.’ If you do not trade with me, in the next world collision I will designate you as the opponent and seize the necessary materials by force.]
The player with the strongest military power in this game had recognized me.
The appropriate response to that was…
[Biin: Go ahead and try lololol]
[Wahando: What gives you such confidence?]
[Biin: It’s funny. Seriously. At the time of the eighth collision, I don’t think my Military score will be below 350,000 points lololol And by then my Life score will probably exceed 500,000, so come try punching through if you think you can lolololol (Verified Truth)]
‘Overlord of Shurado’? Yeah, I’ll admit it. You’re strong.
But who do you think you’re threatening? I’m the Demon King, ‘Lord of Mass Extinction.’ I’m not scared of you.
There was a brief silence. It seemed Wahando was carefully considering his reply.
[Wahando: I apologize for taking such a hardline approach. You are clearly someone worthy of respect. Would you be willing to have a more constructive and mutually beneficial conversation?]
[Biin: Sure sure. I don’t really want to go all out and fight to the death with a strong guy either <]
He folded.
Now then, what can the number one military power in the game offer me? Consulting on that guy’s ecosystem might produce some pretty good results.
I shifted my consciousness to the public chat room just like when I had spoken with Mihun. As I sat down in a chair in my avatar form, Wahando soon appeared, scuttling along.
The reason I said “scuttling” was because he had multiple legs that were moving very busily.
Wahando, wearing a luxurious shell adorned with eleven flashy medals and taking the form of a decorated hermit crab, extended his antennae fully and stared at my avatar with the eyes located there.
“Just to ask… Biin. Do you happen to know the elephant mystic scholar and the tyrannosaurus immortal…?”
“Ah. So you’re that guy???”