The mountain forest was a lush, verdant green, with scattered boulders, flowing streams, mossy riverbanks, and dense thickets of shrubs.
Listening to the murmur of the stream, Wilder sat on a smooth, colossal boulder by the river. He was concealed by a dense curtain of shrubs and trees in a hollow-like area. Before him, the stream flowed, its clear water revealing the rounded stones on the riverbed, barely covering his ankles at the edge but deepening further out.
His black cloak had been hung on a tree branch extending overhead. Wilder wore only a simple, yet striking, white shirt and black-grey combat trousers.
He sat cross-legged on the massive stone, eyes closed, listening to the water, feeling the swamp surge within his body.
To capture those wisps of life essence… the thought itself was still incredible. As if by a divine gift, the swamp had come alive.
Opening his eyes, he squeezed a glob of swamp from his palm, letting gravity pull it downwards. Splat. The swamp hit the damp earth and spread into a flat puddle.
Like a child who had suddenly tripped, it remained motionless for that first instant, stunned, holding its fallen posture. Only after a moment, once it registered the fall, would it make another move.
And so it was with the swamp. When it first hit the ground, it truly did maintain that flat, fallen shape, unmoving. After a moment, perhaps two or three seconds, the puddle of swamp on the ground stirred.
Its outer edges began to retract inwards, like some tenacious, clinging substance determined to retain its original form no matter how it was battered or trodden upon. Once the edges had drawn back, the entire mass of swamp bulged upwards, and with a soft plorp, it formed a distinct clump.
"Gurgle."
About the size of a fist, the swamp began to slow squirm. It had no limbs or similar locomotive mechanisms; its base was a scattered, irregular shape that adapted to whatever terrain it encountered. To put it bluntly, it was like a cross between a stream of water and a worm – it both writhed and flowed, faster than a worm, slower than water.
In the middle of the swampy mass, a slit appeared. When it opened, it formed a mouth, with stubborn, viscous strands of swamp connecting the upper and lower 'jaws.' It had no teeth.
"Very similar to those black monsters."
Wilder spoke, then hopped off the giant boulder and walked towards the riverbank.
Plop!
Another glob of swamp fell from his palm, this time into the water.
Splash, splash! The swamp creature gurgled and struggled for a few moments before the current dispersed it, briefly clouding the water.
The swamp creature he'd left on the grass behind him was still writhing about, nudging at the soil and stones. Wilder paid it no mind, gazing at the now-clear river water, lost in thought.
No matter what, its essence was still swamp. In a sufficient volume of water, it would be washed away. Possessing life-like qualities didn't change that fundamental nature.
Then, when Wilder turned to walk back, he discovered that the swamp creature had, at some point, crawled onto the massive boulder. It happened to be in a spot unshielded by leaves and branches, and the strong sunlight beat down directly on it. It lay there, motionless, nearly dried out.
Wilder's eyebrow twitched, a vein throbbing at his temple.
He wasn't sure whether to sigh or something else. With a leap, he was back on the boulder and reabsorbed the swamp creature, which was gaping its 'mouth.'
For half a day, Wilder sat on the stone, contemplating the life of a swamp, digesting this newly acquired ability.
Swamp animation – this was his greatest gain from the island of malice. Its most significant feature was the ability to secrete swamp organisms that could act. These secreted swamp organisms possessed independent mobility and could also carry out simple commands from Wilder, such as foraging or attacking.
He could also control them directly, taking over their actions to perform complex maneuvers or follow intricate instructions.
Possessing independent mobility didn't mean they could roam freely like ordinary creatures. There was a range limitation: they couldn't leave Wilder's line of sight, or perhaps his perception range, such as the area covered by his Observation Haki. Once a swamp creature strayed beyond these limits, it would lose its 'life' and revert to a useless puddle of swamp.
Of course, this range wasn't fixed. It wasn't impossible that he might break this limitation one day. For now, however, Wilder could only allow the swamp creatures to separate from him by about a hundred meters before they would lose their animation.
Still, it had only been a short time since he'd acquired this ability. He needed practice to improve his control, its versatility, range, scale, and so on. This process wouldn't be overly difficult; after all, he inherently possessed the base ability. He just needed to fully digest and assimilate this new aspect.
His half-day of contemplation wasn't just thinking; it was also digesting. Wilder once again released swamp creatures, this time producing fifteen of them, ranging in size from a fist to a cartwheel.
After releasing these swamp creatures, Wilder issued them a command to forage. Instantly, they dispersed from his position, writhing outwards in all directions.
They moved over grass, stones, and through bushes. Apart from flowing water, no terrain could truly hinder these swamp creatures; it would merely take them a little more time to traverse.
Then, right before Wilder's eyes, a rabbit cautiously poked its head out from a patch of grass. It stopped in a clearing, its nose twitching, eyes fixed and alert for danger.
Just then, a basketball-sized swamp creature writhed over. Its speed wasn't fast, but not slow either. It was just about to reach the rabbit, its mouth already split open wider than its own body! It lunged to bite!
"Gurgle!"
The swamp creature partially collapsed. The rabbit, startled, darted away, slipping past the edge of the swamp creature.
It hadn't managed to bite down. The reason it had collapsed was that the force of its attempted bite had caused the edges of its swampy mouth to vibrate and lose cohesion, some of the swamp scattering. It re-formed after a short while.
"…"
Forget it…
Wilder thought for a moment and then gave the swamp creatures a command for free movement.
The sun was already slanting towards the west, and Wilder felt a pang of hunger. After a moment's thought, he extended his palm. The area from his hand to his elbow transformed into swamp, and a black anaconda slithered out, its forked tongue flicking, its pair of crimson eyes coldly observing the unfamiliar surroundings.
"Hunt."
Wilder stated calmly.
"Hiss…" The black anaconda's massive body slid into a clump of grass and vanished.
Over an hour later, the bushes rustled and shook violently. Wilder turned his head to see the black anaconda returning, its belly visibly bulging.
"Hiss!"
Something surged up from its stomach. The black anaconda opened its massive maw, and a black sheep was regurgitated.
The slime-covered black sheep was already lifeless. Wilder walked over, grabbed it by the leg, and carried it to the riverbank to skin and gut it.
A bonfire was soon crackling, the whole sheep spitted above it. Sizzling sounds filled the air as fat dripped into the flames, and the aroma of roasting meat began to spread.
Wilder felt no disgust at the fact that the sheep had come from a snake's stomach. During his time in Impel Down, he had eaten anything and everything edible to survive.