Infinite Farmer

Chapter 39: The Best Harvest

These and a few other varieties of forest animals found their way to Tulland's farm. He suspected that under normal circumstances, even the smaller Ambushers would have presented a serious threat to his plants. This was not an average day, however. Every animal was hitting the edges of Tulland's farm exhausted, facing plants that were growing stronger as they gorged themselves in the nutritious blood of their enemies.

Tulland eventually stopped trying to assist the vines in fighting, doing his best to channel what magical energy he could provide towards growth. At a certain point, the caps on the briars' levels and strength were the limiting factor instead of fertilizer or environment deficiencies. Any excess energy seemed to be used in survival, then channeled towards fruit production. The fruits would grow, fall, and take root in the blood soaked soil, making use of the dead monster fertilizer and Tulland's magic to grow faster and faster.

Tulland was saved from wilting himself by the sheer heat-absorbing ability of the plants, which were eventually so thick they blocked out all of the light from his tunnel and, through some process he didn't fully understand, seemed to lower the local temperature as well.

It still wasn't an ideal situation. Tulland found himself exhausted and dizzy, even if not in as much danger as he should have been. After long enough, he found he was unable to do anything but to lie there, sweating and panting as he watched the wholesale killing in front of him.

Two more hours in, almost as suddenly as it had started, he saw the sun darken. It was still bright out, but after what he had been going through, the sky could almost be called overcast. The heat stuck around only as long as it took for the first wind to blow through. And while extreme wind seemed to be the next phase in this terrible forest's rage, it hardly mattered. Tulland was lying in a garden so very overgrown that not even the gale-force winds could break through.

As Tulland sat and sipped water in the pleasant, cool draft filtering through his briars, he considered his gains.

It really was something. He had more or less farmed out this level in one go, without doing a single thing to make it happen. It was an accidental harvest, one that had left him much stronger than he had been a few hours ago.

Among the rest of his normal stat distributions, he finally decided to add a little power to his mind stat. It was a mental-defense stat, primarily. But he had a vague recollection it helped with some fine control of power usage, among other things. The first use was enough that he had always known he couldn't leave it be forever, but the second was intriguing enough to make the decision to finally pay the piper interesting.

Granted, none of his growth had been intentional, but he'd take the extra power. It was the best kind of harvest. Especially since after everything that happened that day, Tulland found one last victory over an old, undefeated adversary waiting for him.

Ironbranch Seed

Tulland eyed his enemy-slash-ally with determination. Every single time he had tried to enrich one of these seeds, it had simply ignored him. He had been snubbed again and again by the stubborn tree, and it was possible this time would be no different.

But I'll be damned if I let it be. Prepare to lose, seed. Prepare to lose hard.

Screwing up his resolve, Tulland began to let go the reins on his power. He felt the seed resisting his energy, just as it always had. For a while, nothing happened. He didn't quit, and kept hitting the seed again and again until he finally felt something give somewhere deep in the rock-hard little lump of tree.

Whether his mind stat or just good old-fashioned brute force had made it possible, the victory did not go unrewarded.

His passives were getting a bit insane these days, but Tulland supposed that was to be expected. Carefully clearing a bit of space inside the edge of the hedge, Tulland planted one of the Ironbranch Tree Saplings, Then added four of the Wolfwood trees nearly but not quite at the corners of the enclosure. His briars wouldn't do quite as well with less sunlight, but with nearly all of them capped, it was hard to think of it as something that mattered.

And the best part? Tulland was now fully armored again. All six of his plant pieces were in place, filling him with a sense of security he was very badly in need of.

And the other thing I think I need, System, is a bath. How long has it been?

Since you arrived at The Infinite, I believe. Unless you count getting fairly soaked with the muck from the swamp in the last level and your quick dip earlier.

You know what? I don't.

Tulland stepped out of his enclosure, once again braving the wind as he flopped lazily into the river, letting the water run all the way from his hair down into his boots. It was unbelievably refreshing, and if it wasn't exactly the most efficient way to bathe, then at least he had plenty of time to get the most out of it. Eventually, he took his shoes off, shaking out a great quantity of mud until the water running through them ran clear.

It's amazing how much better this feels. How do normal adventurers do it?

Normal adventurers can either go home, or they are dead. Normal adventurers who make it to The Infinite have training, usually quite a bit of it, and usually involving tolerance to things like the lack of bathing facilities and steady food supply.

Good point. I guess I didn't get that lucky.

No. I suppose not.

Rolling over a few times in the water to displace any lingering sweat, Tulland found himself pondering the odd change in the System's demeanor once again. It was one thing to make conversation when there wasn't anything else to do. It was another to pass up on opportunities to make jabs when Tulland was walking right into them, and yet another to help him out at all when withholding help and advice would have increased his chance of dying significantly.

Tulland fully expected the advice to be bad every time he received it, to put him in danger in some subtle way. But that hadn't been the case in a while. On this floor, the System had given normal, everyday advice of the kind anybody might give. It wasn't perfect, but it hadn't been a trap.

Yet.

At this point in his life, Tulland was incredibly short on trust. He was fully, absolutely aware that the System was smart enough to at least try to lull him into a false sense of security. It had done so once before. If Tulland was being smart, he wouldn't let his guard down. He wouldn't even talk to the thing, unless he had some compelling reason to have to do it.

But either Tulland wasn't smart, or he was right about the building feeling in his gut that something was up with the System that it didn't want to talk about. Since they had already crossed the river of admitting that the System had tricked, betrayed, lied to, and attempted to kill him, it wasn't like there was that much left for it to hide.

Unless it was a different kind of thing. Something entirely different. Something that wasn't about Tulland at all.

Which begs the question of whether or not things like the System can even be embarrassed about themselves. Or ashamed. Because in a way, he's sure acting like it.

"Hey, System?" Tulland stood up in the water and let the wind wick away the worst of it, which the nearly gale-force breeze was more than capable of. It was cold, but not nearly the freezing-to-death level of chilly he should have been experiencing without the advantage of his improved stats and gear. "Can I ask you a question?"

I suppose. But you might want to wait.

"For what?"

For whatever he wants to ask. Behind you.

Tulland was grateful he had decided to put back on his shoes and gloves the moment they were clean. At least he wouldn't be losing a piece of equipment if he needed to flee. He turned around and saw a man in a hooded cloak staring at him. He had a short, curved sword in one hand, a much shorter double-edged fighting dagger in the other, and overall looked lethal in a light, quick way that Tulland felt was even worse for him than Necia's heavy, super-strong build would have been.

"Oh. Hey. Can I help you?" Tulland asked.

"Sure. Just hold on a sec." The man continued boring holes in Tulland's skull with an oddly intent stare. "And that should do it. Thanks. Wow. I mean it. Wow."

"What?"

"That status. What's a Farmer?"

"It's… you can see my status?"

"Obviously." The man scoffed. "You didn't answer my question though. What's a Farmer?"

"It's… you really didn't have farmers on your world? At all? Growing plants and things?" Tulland asked back.

"Of course we do. But certainly, you aren't telling me…" The man's eyes went wide as he gave Tulland a once-over, finally noting his inadequate gear. "You are. An actual farmer in The Infinite. Not a Farmer Mage or a Farmer Berserker or anything. Just a non-combat class waltzing around The Infinite like it's no big deal."

"Sure?" Tulland had no idea what to make of this person. "Does that matter?"

"Of course. Normally, when I find an unprotected person out in the wild, I have to care very much about whether or not they can take me in a fight. Whether their build is a dangerous counter to mine. Whether or not I should be wary of the things they can do." For a moment, the man cracked up. His face distorted into something ugly, something Tulland didn't understand but instinctively recoiled from. Then, like it hadn't happened at all, the stretched grin and distorted face returned to some semblance of normalcy. "But here I don't have to do much of that, do I? It's just free levels. With no danger at all."

With no delay at all, the man was in motion, blurring through the air so fast that Tulland could hardly see him. And of all the things he could have focused on, the one Tulland ended up seeing clearly was the last thing he could have expected. It was an accessory, something hanging off the man's belt.

And Tulland knew exactly what it was. After all, he shaved an entire tree to make it himself.