The Eighth World Collision

The situation was one where even if I died and came back with the full power of my own world, I still couldn't win. The opponent wouldn't even accept a surrender.

But the game had always provided a safety net for exactly these kinds of hopeless scenarios.

This game fundamentally encouraged cooperation and exchange from the beginning. The very rules had been designed to actively accept surrenders.

The only exceptions were players with penalty traits. Even for those burdened with such penalties, the organizers had prepared a way to achieve a 'good defeat'—their own form of salvation.

It was simple. Just hold out until the Dimensional Fusion phase.

The game progressed through Dimensional Gate, Dimensional Passage, Dimensional Rift, and finally Dimensional Fusion.

Now that I think about it, doesn't that seem a bit strange? By the Dimensional Fusion stage, the worlds have already completely merged. If left alone after that, the two sides would simply coexist until the next collision.

In truth, the collision phase of the game only truly lasted until the Dimensional Rift stage. Everything after that was already post-collision.

If peace negotiations were signed at this point, both sides would immediately enter a protected zone where the community was liberated. If they kept fighting, the absolute time was the same for all players, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so the protected zone would continue to shrink.

And even if peace negotiations were absolutely refused, if the total score difference between the two worlds exceeded double, the higher-scoring side would automatically subordinate the lower one as a lesser deity.

Well... to be precise, the lower-scoring side could choose to become a lesser deity if they wanted. But if the score gap was truly double or more, they would usually realize there was no chance of victory and wouldn't drag things out pointlessly. They'd simply accept becoming a lesser deity.

Once subordinated, the only way to expel them was to spend a massive amount of Faith points. Otherwise, they couldn't be driven out.

Of course, if they openly trolled, they could be expelled for rule violation. But as long as they contributed to the world in any way, the superior deity would be dragged down with them if they stepped down, and die with them when the time came. Naturally, they would also inherit the penalty trait.

Usually, they would have accumulated some points before joining. Surrendering wouldn't transfer those points (if it did, those four Meteor guys would have accepted surrender long ago). However, their contribution would be recognized based on the points they held.

Ogolraeot had, 'of course,' saved up enough points to buy a Mythic-grade trait if he won the game. He had at least 1.5 million points.

Adding his world's civilization score at the time of surrender, his total contribution would come to roughly 2 million. To expel a lesser deity with that much contribution, one would need to spend 2 million Faith points.

No matter how much of a misanthrope I was, even I couldn't waste that much Faith on something so pointless.

Of course, it was truly pitiful for Ogolraeot and his lesser deities, who would have to grovel and serve under me—the very person who had tried to kill them outright...

But no matter how miserable their situation, it was still better than the annihilation of their souls. And who knows? Maybe this monstrous version of me would end up winning the whole thing.

So from now on, Ogolraeot's world would acknowledge that they could never win and proceed toward a good defeat.

Just like how Aeung and his allied gods had kept trying to threaten Yogur-tosoth even after realizing they couldn't win against me in the third collision.

"My subjects! Go out and bring back as many corpses of the evil species as possible! We shall begin the final ritual to ensure our world's survival!"

The moment Ogolraeot made his declaration, the bison cavalry—still maintaining around ten thousand riders, though it meant some people went hungry—set out. They burned as many corpses as they could and fed the resulting souls and nutrients back into the land.

I tried to stop them, but there was a limit to what I could do without directly manipulating living beings.

Ogolraeot's army desperately slaughtered the evil species and offered the already-dead corpses as sacrifices, managing to reclaim part of their world that had already been more than half overtaken by Creamland.

"The sacrifices are sufficient. We shall now begin the ritual."

There was something called terrain level in the game. But what exactly was it?

Terrain level was, in other words, the level of a god fragment. It referred to the rank of divine fragments divided into Yeongji—which began in the material realm and generated flows—and Yeonggye—which began in the spiritual realm and generated matter.

Whether it was Yeongji or Yeonggye, there were only two ways to raise it. Either gather an enormous amount of a specific material, or gather flows. That was essentially experience points. As the terrain's level rose, its original functions would be strengthened.

In short, the Great Aquifer stored water. The Open-pit Mine produced gems and minerals.

And among the terrains, the function of a Volcano was to store lava mana. A mixture of Fire and Earth mana. It stored lava mana and produced not only volcanic rock but also powerful flame mana.

Ogolraeot gathered every last bit of flow from all the pastures and plains that had been supporting his massive population, his bison, and everything else his world needed to survive—and poured it all into the volcano.

This wasn't something that could be done with World Shaping. That trait only helped a little with the process.

He gathered the lesser deities knowledgeable about the spiritual realm and, through their efforts, handed over all land except five percent of the world to the Dessert Legion. Then he funneled every scrap of experience from the remaining land into the volcano.

And now, Ogolraeot felt tears welling up at the thought of using Dolgoon—who had grown quite dear to him—as a sacrifice.

"I'm sorry."

"The truth is, I know we can't win. Our race will go extinct."

"You are not livestock. You are a person. I know that."

The shaman Dolgoon threw his body into the volcano's crater. Along with him, I watched as Ogolraeot hurled the Dessert Legion's bodies, all their mysteries, and the spiritual realm constructed across the world into the volcano.

"Now! Rise, giant of the volcano! Protect this land as the proxy of the gods!"

And Ogolraeot poured every last drop of Faith points he possessed into the Volcano.

Do you remember when I once tried to grant Intelligence to a god fragment residing in terrain? Unlike Evolution, Intelligence Grant had failed back then because it required far more divinity.

In other words, if one had enough divine power, it was possible to directly infuse divinity into a god fragment within terrain and turn it into a living, moving entity.

Wasn't Shuc-rimmurath exactly such a being? Although she had used agar jelly and jellies as materials, fundamentally she had been created by turning the fragment residing in the open-pit mine into a living creature.

Ogolraeot did the same.

He used the god fragment of the volcano as the body, the shaman Dolgoon as the sacrifice to provide the ego, and refined one of the god fragments that had served as a mine to create a powerful Legendary-grade weapon. Its power reached the absolute limit of 10.

He couldn't possibly surpass the level 11 promotion test, so this was his limit. But in other words, it had become strong enough to stand toe-to-toe with Yogur-tosoth.

The volcano itself transformed into a humanoid shape and opened its eyes wide. A colossal volcano giant with the majestic horns of a bison and frill-like horn-beard of a horn dwarf had been born.

"Protect this land! Daioto, master of the volcano! Use your power to block the enemies!"

Daioto focused, causing not only rivers but rivers of lava to flow around the fortress city, completely blocking the Dessert Legion's invasion. The rising soot from the surroundings blocked the gamchi, the sulfur stench killed the jellies, and the combat power of this single entity was enough to rival Yogur-tosoth.

The horn dwarf race, Unzara, and the bison cavalry still remained. They would face the core of the enemy forces that would pour in during the Dimensional Rift phase that would soon open.

When put like this, it sounded like an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠incredible preparation. In reality, however, he had only temporarily boosted his forces by cutting his own flesh—just enough to endure the Dimensional Rift phase.

The Dimensional Rift phase was horrifically longer than the Dimensional Gate or Dimensional Passage phases. In the current section, it would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠last at least twenty years. His only plan was to endure those twenty years in a ruined state. That way, he could achieve a 'good defeat.'

I observed the opponent's strategy. But at this point, knowing it didn't mean I could stop it. The fortress city had been thoroughly fortified with walls, and the volcano giant patrolling its surroundings along with the elementals he had summoned were more than enough to withstand any offensive.

Now, the outcome depended on whether I could break through this or not.

∞

"I've won."

I understood it right away. At this point, there was no possibility of me losing. Not after the enemy had retreated into a 'good defeat' strategy.

"Wouldn't it be fine to just accept their surrender instead of fighting pointlessly? This game was designed to accept the opponent's surrender, after all."

The Angel's suggestion was less an act of kindness and more common-sense advice. After all, the Angel also wanted to win. That took priority over any sympathy for the world.

"Pointless? Well. It's not completely pointless."

"Pardon?"

"If it had just been me, I'd have been nothing more than a lunatic committing pointless slaughter because I hated intelligent beings. But now that there are four of us in the Meteors Cartel, things are a little different."

"???"

Well, she'd find out when the time came. It was time to properly wrap things up.

Since the enemy had given up on expansion, my Dessert Legion freely spread across their world. We laid down Creamland, extended the Syrup Rivers, and prepared to integrate their world into mine.

There was no longer any need to use Yogur-tosoth. He had been dragged around for several years straight and his energy consumption was quite severe, so it was better to let him rest.

I simply slowly recovered the massive amounts of nectar that had been consumed, and as the land expanded into the enemy world, I drew in even more flows, transferring the resources of their ecosystem into mine.

The enemy occasionally sent their bison knights to slow this process somewhat, but that was all. It was only occasional interference; they had no intention of seriously resisting. It was at the level of 'I won't just let you grow endlessly~' kind of management.

It also seemed like they were using it as hunting training. They were probably preparing their existing army for the great clash that would come once the rift opened, training them to handle the coming catastrophe.

It wasn't a 'wrong answer.' I could see they were doing the best they possibly could.

But just because it wasn't wrong didn't mean it was correct. At best, it was only partial credit.

Ogolraeot's strategy came from the belief that they 'could endure.' My thought was that they couldn't.

Yogur-tosoth was being blocked by that volcano giant.

Shuc-rimmurath was being blocked by the bison knights and that massive bison.

Then what exactly were they going to use to stop Nyaltartep?

They probably didn't even know. About Nyaltartep's very existence, that is. After all, he had never crossed over to fight in my ecosystem, and they had never seen him farming in the Hanging Gardens. (I had secretly hidden him the last time I gave them a chance to observe.)

And even if they had known, they might have thought, 'If it's just spreading weeds, we can handle it with manpower.'

But they were wrong. Because my main plan—the botanical offensive—wasn't limited to mere weeds.

They thought they could endure for twenty years of the Dimensional Rift inside a cramped city? They wouldn't last even two years.

Because the second plan using plants ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had already succeeded. They would probably realize it during the next harvest season.

They were already nothing more than sacrifices for the promotion tests of the three evil gods under my command. Both Shuc-rimmurath and Nyaltartep had reached right before the absolute limit of level 10.

If they managed to endure even then, well, I'd acknowledge it. I'd have no choice but to take them in as lesser deities. That was the rule, after all.

If they couldn't endure, then it would end there.