Infinite Farmer

All six of the sleeves flexed as Tulland pushed for all he was worth, adding all their power to his in perfect sync. Everything held still for a moment as the champion bore down on the hammer until finally, triumphantly, it gave first. The hammer slipped off to the side, thudding into the ground with the unleashed force of the warrior but missing any useful target entirely.

Tulland gave it no chance to recover. With a roar of his own, he started stabbing. Each thrust of the pitchfork hit like a runaway wagon as the sleeves and him got a better and better sense of what working together felt like. It wasn't just the power, either. What he had tried with Brist when he asked the sleeves to correct him through stabbing had never come even close to working. It hadn't been nearly controlled enough. This was different. The sleeves expanded and contracted like extra muscle, adding power to everything he did. Better, they read his intent with every move, pointing his arms just where they needed to go, planting his feet where he needed them, and keeping his torso and waist perfectly in line with every move.

Synergy.

What?

Synergy. This is more than each part. Every vine is reinforcing every other vine. They are all, as a group, reinforcing you. You are reinforcing them, as a group. Coordination is automatic, and you all work towards the same goal in slightly different ways with no lag. It's synergy.

It feels like more than it should be.

It is. I can't even estimate how many levels worth of stats this is giving you. It's like you've stolen a second body and brain and added them to yourself. The Infinite can never allow this.

For a while, at least, it seemed The Infinite would. Tulland kept after the champion even after it regained its balance, stopping most of its blows with his own weapon and counterstriking where openings showed themselves. The champion was still landing blows of its own, but now that it had to be careful, they were much less lethal. Tulland was sent tumbling a few times, only to be catapulted back towards his enemy by the Chimera Sleeves again and again.

A few useless arrows from Licht were hitting, and Necia was trying to catch up with both him and the champion as they sped around the clearing. Tulland did his best to keep them out of it. There was only so much they could do, and somehow he knew he had this handled.

Even so, it was a long time before the last part of his plan came into full force. The champion swung at him hard, forcing Tulland to block before it leapt backwards a full, big step. It had been doing that, giving itself the space it needed to make a big, powerful swing Tulland would have to respect. Most of the time, it was terrifying. This time, Tulland smiled an evil, satisfied grin. With that last big step, the champion had finally stepped into his garden.

The first thing Tulland saw was a pair of caltrops slicing through the champion's foot. It roared in rage as it shook them out, only to have an entire farm's worth of Acheflower blow up in its face as every vine in the place got to work on its legs, tying it up with blows or sheer constriction as every part of its legs was coated with green.

It wouldn't last, but Tulland didn't need it to. As the giant readied the swipe at the ground near its legs that would free it, Tulland set himself, gave a single instruction to the vines, and shot across the ground, barely floating over the forest debris as his pitchfork lined up perfectly with the champion.

Jump as hard as you can towards it. Tulland had thought. The sleeves understood. And then, once the pitchfork is in, we jump straight up. Let's cut this jerk in half.

The pitchfork hit like a sledgehammer, then sunk all the way through the monster's chest and out the other side. It was a good hit, and Tulland could feel something break in the monster's chest as the tines penetrated. He would not leave it at that. Brist had taught him a bit about this kind of use of force when he had told him to pull his scythe through enemies. If he did that, he could get every ounce of force from a backwards jump combined with everything his arms could do.

This jump would do the same thing, only upwards. It wouldn't be cutting through the champion with a sharpened edge, but it hardly needed to. Tulland had a good idea of how much force he could get into a jump now, and knew it would be as good as a bomb going off inside his enemy.

Every muscle in his body tensed as the vines recoiled for that one big burst upwards. The champion's balance was gone, and its hammer was completely out of line for a good strike. As he started the jump, he knew it was over.

Then he felt himself jump free of any restrictions, straight into a pure-white ceiling of what looked to be stone.

"No. No!" Tulland screamed. "System!"

It's the safe room.

"The level wasn't over! My friends are still there!"

I know, Tulland. I know. There's nothing I can do. The Infinite finally pulled you out.

"Tell me this is unsynced time. Say it."

I can't be sure. It should be.

"It should be?" Tulland shrieked, pacing the room, stabbing at the walls themselves. "It should be?"

This isn't from a rule-set I know anymore, Tulland. I've never heard of this happening before. It should be. That's all I can say.

Tulland screamed one more time in rage and frustration, then went to work on the walls. If the Infinite wasn't going to show itself in this place, he'd dig his way out. The walls stubbornly refused to cooperate, which stopped him not at all. He chipped and banged away at them, sending tiny flecks of white shooting across the room but making virtually no progress at all.

After an hour, the room itself blinked out of being. Tulland's pitchfork disappeared from his hand as an irresistible urge to sleep covered him.

System. I'm going to…

Don't. Stay awake. Whatever is happening, you need to be awake. Tulland? Tulland?

Tulland felt his eyes closing despite everything he could to keep himself awake. In a room so empty it wasn't even white anymore, he finally lost the battle against the slumber, slumping over into a dark, dreamless world of sleep.

—

Tulland woke. He hadn't realized he had been asleep until he wasn't anymore. After that, the first thing he noticed were the leaves in his hair, blown there by a wind flowing around a village he had never seen before.

"Necia!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. There was no answer. None of the doors in the village opened, and there were no people within view to worry about. He yelled again. There was still no answer. "System, what in the frozen hells is this?"

I have no idea. This place is odd in ways I can't quite explain. It seems real enough, except for a strong sense that it is not real at all.

"That makes no sense, System."

Neither does this place. I'm sorry. I know what you know. It's not much.

"What about Necia and the others?"

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I see no sign of them. Even while you were sleeping, I saw no sign. Though I was not conscious of much time before you woke.

"You think The Infinite did this?"

I don't see who else could have. And it is not lost on me that this happened just after you made your vines do something they are almost certainly not meant to do. Consider what it might mean.

Tulland did. He knew that under normal circumstances, this would be a good thing. Something he had worked towards and was only now seeing the benefits of. He was glad about that, on some level. All the enjoyment of it was gone, though, sapped away by the danger he had left everyone he cared about on this plane facing.

Distract yourself, Tulland. Explore this place. Move. Something. Anything but sitting there worrying. I can feel the stress of it on you. Go do what you can. Let the rest wait until there is something you can do to help in a productive way.

The village was not far. Tulland went to it, trying his hardest to learn anything he could as he walked up. There were no tracks on the ground that he could see, although he was far from a skilled tracker. Some of the buildings had smoke coming from the chimneys, but there were no voices anywhere. No workers appeared in the fields, and no doors opened on his approach. He considered setting free some of his vines to search, but decided against it. They were poor scouts in this environment. He would rather keep them close as a form of self-defense.

Slowly, Tulland worked closer to the village, then past it as he walked down the dirt road that bordered the homes there. There was only a single row of structures, all facing an enormous field of wheat that seemed tended, even if there was nobody present to do the work. Growing slowly braver, Tulland started to open doors and shout into houses, then to walk through them as he kept his eyes and ears alert to threats.

"There's nobody here." Tulland had poked his head in almost every building in the entire village by now. There were fires in some of the fireplaces, even food over some of the flames still cooking. The houses were lived in, furnished, and filled with belongings. There just wasn't anyone there to enjoy them. "Nobody at all. What gives?"

I have no idea. It doesn't match with anything I've ever done. Keep looking. Perhaps you'll learn more.

Tulland did. There was very little beyond the houses and sheds, any of which wouldn't have seemed out of place on Ouros despite the unfamiliar plants and the different color of the soil. He checked and double-checked each of the buildings, seeing clothes, toys, and all the trappings he'd expect from homes in which families lived. There was not so much as a breath from any living thing, however.

Even the plants seemed off. They were real-seeming enough, but none of them interacted with his skills. They would have seemed normal enough before he had his class, but after months of getting data from any plant he was anywhere near, it was bizarre.

Check the limits of the place, I suppose. Maybe we are not supposed to be here at all.

I can, I guess.

Tulland used his vine-suit to propel him faster than he had ever run before. He was getting more used to it with every step. He didn't think it doubled his stats, or anything that intense, but it was a huge gain that he wasn't paying anything at all to get. With the instincts of the higher level vines guiding his movements, he doubted there was any beast of a similar level that could give him much trouble in combat now.

All that speed was counterproductive when he ran into an invisible barrier as hard and cold as a pane of glass. It was ungiving and unforgiving, bloodying his nose from the impact but not otherwise hurting him.

I guess that's that. I'll circle and look for gaps, but I don't think I can leave.

No. I don't suppose you can.

Once he had confirmed there was no way out of the place, Tulland returned to the nearest house. There was a large hunk of meat from some animal slowly roasting above a small fire still, getting close to perfectly cooked now. His mouth watered from the smell. He hadn't had anything like meat since Ouros. Every particle of him wanted to devour it.

I don't suppose it would be smart to eat the food.

No. It wouldn't. That might even be the point of this place. A test of self-control, or something similar.

Then I won't, but… Tulland's stomach rumbled like an earthquake. Damn. I want it so bad.

He sat in a chair, irrationally angry that he couldn't eat the meat, somehow more upset about that than being ripped away from his friends when they needed him most for a moment. He quickly got his priorities back in check, but not before he finally learned his first fact about the place via a message about the meal he refused to eat.

Tulland, the food is safe. It was put here for you to eat, just as the comforts of this village were put here for you to comfortably wait in. Be patient, if you can. This might take a while.

"System, can you see that?"

I can. I'd say it's likely fine for you to eat the food. Whatever The Infinite is doing, poisoning you after an assurance like that would be tantamount to killing you outright. As with so many things, you are either fine or it will get you anyway.

Comforting.

Stop complaining. I can see your mouth watering. Go eat your meal.

Tulland didn't wait for a third invitation to eat. He pulled the meat off the fire and bit into it. The grease would have seared his mouth if he wasn't so damn strong now. As it was, it coated his tongue immediately, perfectly salted and seasoned. He chewed and swallowed, then ripped off a much larger chunk when the first one failed to explode into poison inside of him.

As the meat started to melt in his stomach, he felt a sense of elation fill every cell of his body. It was like trumpets of celebration were going off inside his body, heralding the return of high-grade protein to his system.

System, I'm going to cry.

Over a bit of meat? It's well cooked, I'll give it that.

Much more than well cooked. You can't possibly understand how much I've needed this. You are always going on about the importance of keeping my moods under control, right? This is doing more for that than anything but Necia ever has.

Well, good. Let's just hope both of us survive long enough to enjoy it.

The Infinite gave them no more clues that day. The sun set, the gentle winds winding through the village grew cool, and everything became dark, calm, and silent. Tulland eventually went upstairs to the largest bedroom in the place, where the bed was piled high with warm-looking quilts. The mattress was nothing special, but it was a real mattress, packed with something soft and a world better than the hard dirt he had become used to sleeping on.

Despite his worries, he was asleep in less than an hour and dead to the entire world until morning. The next day was just as quiet and calm, with no more messages from The Infinite to interrupt the boredom.

You should stop fidgeting like that. This is a rest in an arguably safe place. Treat it like your white room, Tulland. Get what value you can out of it.

I can't. You know that.

Then sleep, at least. Take naps. Gain whatever you can. Because eventually, you'll be in danger again. You'll have people to protect. You need to be ready.

It hit Tulland all of the sudden, then. This was why he trusted the System. Against all wisdom, he had come to think of the System as a reliable friend of sorts, and it was only now dawning on him that the reason why was that he, Tulland Lowstreet, hated a good deal of the advice it gave him. He found them boring, or inconvenient. Yet, he did follow them because they were the right advice, clearly correct despite how much it might irritate or frustrate him.

He went and took his nap.

When he woke up, there was a dark beverage in a mug in front of him, something earthy-smelling that he had never seen before. And in a seat near the couch he had fallen asleep on was the being he had come to think of as the main instance of The Infinite dungeon.

"It's coffee. It's a drink on a lot of worlds, one with a mild stimulant effect that cuts through all class resistances. You didn't have it on Ouros, I gather. Still, I think it might be up your alley. I put cream in it, but no sugar. I suspect that's the way you'd like it best. Especially since you are so protein hungry at the moment."

"The meat helped." Tulland reached out for the coffee and took a sip. It was fine. He could see it growing on him, over time. "Thanks for that. Now tell me what's going on with Necia and the others or I swear I'll gut you like a pig where you sit."

The Infinite's mouth fell open. If it wasn't shocked, it was a very good actor.

"That is the first time I've been threatened in… a very long time. Are you sure it's a good idea?"

Tulland threw the scalding hot drink at the man's face as he went low and impaled him on his pitchfork. Or would have, if that were possible. The pitchfork hit the back of the seat where the man had been sitting as The Infinite appeared a foot or so off to the side, standing now.

"I think it's a great idea," Tulland snarled. "Now hold still while I gut you. It will be quicker for both of us."

"Oh, calm down." The Infinite waved his hand, and Tulland suddenly felt his farmer's weapon strapped to his back where it normally sat. "They are safe, for the moment. I give you my word. Is that enough? Can we talk now?"

Tulland nodded. He felt some knots in his neck come loose at the assurance his friends hadn't died when he had left. "Get on with it. I've been here for days while you were off doing whatever it is you do."

"I'm not apologizing for that." The Infinite waved a hand, and all the spilled coffee from the cup disappeared as another identical cup manifested in Tulland's hand. "It was regarding you and your unfortunate, intentional breaking of balance. Something which required an enormous amount of talking amongst myselves to resolve. That takes time."

"Forgive me, but I just don't care." Tulland was surprised how strong his rage had grown to be. "Get to the point. Now."