Enhanced memory, sharper discernment, and elevated critical thinking—this was the trajectory along which the creatures of the New World were currently evolving at a rapid pace.
They had even developed a desire for vengeance. When a packmate died an unnatural death and none of their kind knew the cause, these creatures had actually learned to examine the corpse and the surrounding environment, searching for clues that might reveal what had killed their companion.
It was a brutal, cutthroat competition that staked the very fate of their species. Only the ultimate survivors would continue to breed and thrive in the New World, eventually restoring order and stability to a land currently thrown into utter chaos.
Once intelligence developed to a certain point, the longing for a stable environment would always prevail. Especially after clashing with other species and engaging in mutual slaughter, creatures possessing an increasingly mature mindset would eventually pursue peace to reduce casualties.
Of course, peace was merely one part of the cycle; conflict remained the eternal theme—but that was a matter for the distant future. Even Asterion wouldn't look that far ahead right now.
While life had certainly become hyper-competitive for carnivores, did things fare any better for the omnivores that relied on leaves, stems, and various insects, or for the herbivores originally at the bottom of the food chain?
After all, they had genuinely grown smarter, even learning to set traps and use teamwork to fight back against predators. With their enhanced self-defense capabilities, they ought to be living better lives.
Plants and animals were inherently different, after all. Plants wouldn't suddenly sprout legs and flee, nor would they set traps to counterattack herbivores—well, judging by the current situation, things hadn't quite escalated to that extreme just yet.
Yet even so, it didn't mean these plant-eaters were having an easy time. The herbivores, long accustomed to grazing on tender vegetation, discovered to their horror that their favorite plants—whether they were ferns, shrubs, or tree leaves—were all beginning to turn blue.
Furthermore, the physical structures of these plants were undergoing mutations. On the surfaces of many leaves and branches, or where soft stems should have been, numerous tiny, translucent, eerie blue crystals had emerged.
When the Aptonoths swept these leaves into their mouths, loud, crunchy snaps would echo within their jaws. Occasionally, those crystals would slice through their oral mucosa or even break their teeth.
The alteration in texture wasn't even the hardest part for these herbivores to accept. The reason they were forced to migrate away from their native habitats, enduring starvation to trek across vast distances, was simply because these plants had become completely inedible.
The flavor had gone far beyond merely tasting bad, elevating to the level of toxicity. As the blue coloration deepened, these plants grew increasingly bitter and began to emit an intensely pungent, sour stench.
Occasionally, if ingested, certain plants would release massive amounts of irritants, inducing agonizing stomach cramps in the herbivores. It had even reached the point where these massive Aptonoths would dry-heave on the spot, vomiting up everything down to their stomach acid.
In more severe cases, they would likely die of sheer pain right then and there.
It was as if these plants were using this method to protest against the outside world, fully expressing their reluctance to be consumed.
But how was that possible?!
How could plants possess emotions? How could they undergo such a logic-defying defensive evolution in such a short span of time?!
In the memories of these herbivores, they had eaten these very plants barely half a month ago without any issues at all!
In truth, plants that merely made themselves unpalatable or toxic were actually showing mercy. In the Rotten Vale, carnivorous plants that actively preyed on fauna had already begun to emerge.
The more perilous the environment, the more ferocious the lifeforms it bred. In this pitch-black, sunless environment, a type of vine had evolved a digestive fluid capable of breaking down meat. It would violently snap into action the moment another creature brushed against it, instinctively binding its prey.
What followed was simple. The glowing blue thorns on these carnivorous vines would plunge directly into the target's body, injecting the digestive fluids into their veins. It was an exceptionally cruel method of hunting, as the prey would watch helplessly as their own flesh and blood dissolved into a pool of sludge. This nutrient-rich sludge was precisely what the vine required to grow.
Many variations of these carnivorous vines had already surfaced, and some trees several meters tall had even evolved in a predatory direction. However, for the time being, these plants could not move actively, nor did they possess senses like eyes or a sense of smell. They could only lay traps, waiting for unsuspecting prey to wander into their grasp before consuming them.
Far away in the Elder's Recess, Asterion had no idea that many plants in the New World had turned into hunters. But even if he knew, he would probably just cheer them on, utterly indifferent.
Live and let live.
There was never any rule dictating that animals could only eat plants and plants couldn't turn the tables. Who knows, maybe some kind of plant-dragon would evolve in the future... Well, that sounded a bit ominous, conjuring an image of something lying motionlessly on the ground forever.
The Admiral and the Commander had even been forced to issue a suspension on all expeditions out of Astera and the Research Base, both of which had already suffered devastating blows twice over. They had naturally noticed the frequent geological disasters rocking the New World, as well as the drastically shifting ecological environment.
Without needing a single second to deliberate, the Admiral and the Commander had already deduced that the Azure Star Dragon was behind all of this. Yet, they couldn't even venture out to stop it, let alone figure out where the Azure Star Dragon had gone.
Consequently, they could only passively endure these ecological shifts, doing everything in their power to minimize unnecessary human casualties amidst this cataclysmic event.
An era was changing—this was the reality that everyone remaining in the New World was gradually beginning to realize.
Such violent, all-encompassing shifts—from hunter to prey, from animal to plant—swept across every corner of the New World almost simultaneously. Driven by the immense pressure of survival, the roles of predator and prey were swapping at a dizzying speed.
One moment a creature might be the hunter, and the next, it became the prey. The reversal happened with terrifying velocity.
There was no shortage of predators driven mad by prolonged starvation, becoming careless and frantic, only to be trapped to death by their supposedly weak prey using crudely but carefully crafted snares. The trapped predators would then slowly bleed out or succumb to poison from the injuries inflicted by the traps.
Some of the weaker, formerly prey species that had evolved more thoroughly were no longer satisfied with mere passive defense. They began communicating through basic roars and physical gestures, banding together to coordinate actions. They took the initiative to surround and hunt down the very predators that had long terrorized their kind across their territories!
Utilizing naturally occurring fire from lightning-struck trees and learning to arm their claws with weapons, they adapted. Even though the process was incredibly arduous—since not all creatures possessed forelimbs suited for gripping—holding a sharp stake between their jaws still allowed them to unleash significantly greater lethality.
The first spark of fire claimed by non-human creatures, the first batch of crude yet lethal tools, the first spoken words breaking away from mindless roaring—they were creating primitive languages unique to their own species, capable of conveying relatively complex information.
They even began to cultivate empathy and compassion through communication and cooperation, mourning their fallen companions and, for the very first time, acting for reasons beyond mere hunger and warmth...
Just as Asterion had initially anticipated, though the light of sapient life was faint, it was tenaciously igniting like a wildfire across every corner of this chaotic New World.
If measured by the rigorous classification standards of human society's most authoritative biologists, everything currently unfolding in the New World would completely shatter their lifelong understandings. Many species originally defined as mere wild beasts could now be categorized under the broad umbrella of Lynians.
Snake-folk, rabbit-folk, insect-folk... there were countless varieties, a magnificent explosion of thriving, diverse life.
It was all for the best!
Meanwhile, in the northern part of the Ancient Forest, at an elevation second only to the Elder's Recess across the entire New World, lay a landscape entirely distinct from any other region.
Long, long ago, a tremendously violent energy explosion occurred within the New World's ley lines. The resulting earthquake tore through the terrestrial and oceanic crusts, forcing a portion of the seabed to thrust upward on a massive scale, placing a region once submerged beneath the ocean high up at mountain peaks.
Abruptly losing its ocean cover naturally caused a vast amount of the deep-sea coral to perish. Yet life, in the end, was both resilient and wondrous; the abundant bioenergy of the New World allowed these corals to ignite a miracle of life.
Ultimately, some corals adapted to the terrestrial environment, surviving and multiplying. Through generations of death and rebirth, the living coral built upon the old, rising layer by layer into protruding plateaus. The hollow expanses left beneath them, connected to the subterranean world, became the Rotten Vale.
In all fairness, the Coral Highlands was undisputedly the most beautiful and resource-rich region in the entire New World. Don't ask why—if you must know, it's because the blues and purples were simply gorgeous.
Ahem, its abundance of resources was beyond question. Directly below it lay the Rotten Vale, where the carcasses of countless creatures accumulated. Once broken down by microorganisms, those remains served as the ultimate fertilizer, directly sustaining life in the Coral Highlands above. The sheer diversity of its flora and fauna made it feel like an inexhaustible treasure trove.
"Are those... mushroom-men?!" Crouched flat against the surface of a blue coral, a Wyverian female dressed in scholar's robes peered through her binoculars, muttering in utter disbelief.
I must be seeing things.
Doubting herself, the Wyverian female quickly lowered her binoculars to rub her eyes before looking through them once more. I really didn't missee it.
"Mushroom-men? Or rather, fungus-people?"
Within her field of vision, right outside the entrance of a dark cave formed by dead coral, stood two short, stout figures whose heads perfectly resembled capped mushrooms.
The Wyverian female was absolutely certain that they weren't Gajalaka or Grimalkynes wearing mushroom-shaped hoods; those capped heads were the actual heads of these new lifeforms!
For she could see their teeth! They were incredibly white and sharp, capable of easily crushing stone. Upon closer inspection, she also located the creatures' eyes, though they were extremely small, looking like nothing more than narrow slits.
"Unbelievable... are there actually lifeforms around here that we haven't discovered yet?" the Wyverian female murmured to herself, completely shell-shocked. "But for fungi to manifest in a form that creates animal-like life?!"
That mushrooms were fungi was basic knowledge she naturally possessed. But it was precisely because she knew so much—and understood the fundamental differences between flesh-and-blood life and fungal life—that her shock bordered on complete incomprehension.
This was an extraordinary anomaly that completely broke past the boundaries of her scientific knowledge.
Beyond that, there was an even more vital point to consider: they had been investigating this beautiful plateau for a full twenty years since they first arrived.
In theory, they had surveyed this area close to the base countless times. She had personally entered the very cave where the two fungal people were standing; aside from harboring numerous skeletal remains of various creatures, it contained nothing out of the ordinary.
Oh, did the abundance of mushrooms growing along the flanking coral walls count as unusual?
Probably not. Given how moisture-rich and nutrient-dense the Coral Highlands was, mushrooms easily flourished anywhere shielded from direct sunlight. They were practically everywhere.
But now, those very mushrooms had transformed into mobile lifeforms?!
What was the driving force behind their movement? What were their behavioral habits? Did they possess internal organs? Did blood pump through their bodies?
Flooded with a sudden surge of excitement, countless questions flashed through the Wyverian female's mind. She was certain that these two peculiar fungal people were not mindless organisms acting solely on base instinct.
She could clearly see them flashing their rows of white teeth as they moved, seemingly communicating. One of the fungal people even handed a small object to the other. However, because the distance was too great and she feared being spotted, she couldn't make out what it was.
Rumble!
Just as the Wyverian female's excitement peaked, the coral reef she was lying on suddenly began to shake violently.
"Damn it, another earthquake..." she grumbled in frustration once the tremors subsided slightly. She quickly glanced back toward the two fungal people, only to find to her dismay that the sudden quake had startled them, and they had vanished to who-knows-where.
For the past two months, earthquakes of unknown origin had frequently disrupted their research and surveys. But this particular tremor was one she despised above all others.
"Leader! Something's wrong!!"
Just as the Wyverian female was considering whether she should pursue them to attempt a dialogue with the fungal people, a panic-stricken shout echoed from behind her.