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Wrath Farmer

Betrayed by his family for the benefit of his brother, Atom has been forced to take the Farmer class. Forever at the bottom of the social hierarchy and cast into the mana dry, wild dungeon filled territories of Rasputin, Atom wants the life he should have had. To do that he needs to master the art of digging even furrows into the earth, scarring off goblins, and building a fence a strong breeze can't knock down. At the bottom of the social hierarchy he will learn how to deal with the people at the top and why a strong peasant is undesirable.

UBMars · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
47 Chs

CH16

Day 18

 

Wind blew rustling tall corn stalks until their heavy ears threatened to fall to the ground. A carpet of insects crawled away from the field in uncountable numbers; many died and the survivors crawled over their brethren. As the wind picked up, even the chickens in the field couldn't take it anymore and fled, crowing the whole time. The wind continued to blow until the weeds poking up among the corn stalks began wilting, even as some of the stalks yellowed as winds blew between rows, searching for any vermin left within the field.

 

Fresh blood streamed down my nose as I began to get a handle on my skill. After killing my own crops, I found it was easier to use a lighter touch and slowly ramp it up until it became unbearable. Unfortunately, the longer I held the skill, the more consequences I felt. I hadn't abandoned my other skills but Fell Wind showed so much promise I had to practice it more.

 

Controlling the wind was hard but rewarding. I saved on pesticides by using them on the bugs that preyed on my crops. Stretching the wind thin only caused it to blow uselessly. When I directed it in streams down the rows in its passing, most things were influenced. That's what I liked about the skill. It had so much impact on even the smallest living things.

 

There was a sense of things that my wind blew past that gave me an awareness of things I would have normally missed. I tapped my head.

 

Of the things I missed, Gwen's connection to my mind was one of them. I was tempted to leave it and hoped she would remember me the next time I saw her. Looking into monsters and how tamer skills affected them disabused me of that. In all likelihood, even if I managed to kill Tony and free her, she wouldn't thank me, and we couldn't go back to normal.

 

Gwen had become hers, according to the articles, the moment his tamer skill took hold. It wasn't just brainwashing. When tamer skills reached higher levels they rewrote memories slowly until the tamer replaced people in the monster's life.

 

I stood up from my chair as the wind gathered around me. Clouds of topsoil pushed out into the distance from my exercise. My skill dried out and ruined the soil when it passed. That was another part of my skill I needed to practice and get a better understanding of.

 

The further I stood away from the field and the less I saw what I was doing, the more experience Fell Wind gained. There were ways to power-level skills even if my nose bled something awful. If not for Regeneration, abusing my skill would be impossible the way I'm doing it. Normally, expensive potions brewed by an alchemist were needed to get anywhere.

 

Gwen had joked that she thought I was a Willpower type, but maybe that's what I was turning into.

 

The dungeon had what I needed to move forward and make my build a reality. Beyond the first floor, there were more skills on the second and third floors that could empower me further.

 

I had a new skill tree that looked interesting, even if it came from my farming class after Harvest reached level 20.

 

Skill Tree: Blue Moon 0/100

 

Blue, anything had something to do with monsters. Half of a tamer's skill trees had the word blue or monster in them, or they would have a terrible career as a tamer. I might have gotten mine from my high willpower, tipping the odds in my favor. A high attribute created a demand for skill trees and skills to make use of the attribute. But I couldn't for the life of me guess what Blue Moon would give me. Odds were good; it wouldn't have the attributes I wanted, or it might not have a tamer-related skill at all. Blue could be referring to blue mages who could learn skills directly from monsters. A skill related to Blue Magic would be incredible. If I had something like that, then there was a good chance I could throw away my hoe and never pick it up.

 

Such a skill would qualify me to join the military, and no one could say a thing about it after that from the civilian side.

 

I stared at the dissipating clouds and rolled my eyes. What was the likelihood of that happening, probably the same as a sexy girl my age falling from the sky? I looked up hopeful, but the sky was clear without a cloud. Great for my crops bad for a lonely guy living in a tent half stained with blood.

 

The time had come to go back to the dungeon. I had enough experience to level up to ten in the dungeon. Once that happened, I would get a skill from my class, and it would hopefully have something to do with dungeons. If I could alter how a dungeon adapts to items and monsters introduced, that could help me grow much stronger.

 

I felt stuck, and I needed to fight. Fighting was the one thing I could control.

 

The dungeon had changed a little since my last outing. Instead of a cave mouth with a few monster bones at the entrance, leather skin had grown over the rocks, and black veiny vines were spewing out blood around the surface. A hyena-type monster was lapping at the blood when I arrived on the scene. For some reason, the monster hadn't sensed me, and I had no reason to kill it. The spotted menace stared at me, muzzle completely drenched in blood and head cocked to the side.

 

Fell Wind flowed around me, spiraling slowly as I waited for it to attack.

 

Spotted Hyena lvl12 

Psionic Dungeon Unnamed: Recommended lvl19

 

I blinked as the monster's name appeared on my map, along with the dungeon's lack of name and recommended level. That was new and helpful. Knowing the level of monsters would help me determine a monster's threat level. Training made my level into something unreliable. Not that monsters didn't have skill trees to grow in unusual ways they didn't really focus on skills until they were much smarter. Rank 2 or 3 monsters were far more dangerous for that reason.

 

15 agility didn't sound like much, but it was over 7 times greater than I had days ago. When my skills were including giving me lighter steps, I was rather quick. The Spotted Hyena jumped backward when I arrived in front of it. The monster cackled before running while turning its head to keep an eye on me as it fled. The monster pissed on the ground, and I knew there would be more of its kind here soon enough. Hyenas rarely traveled outside of packs; there might be rank 2 variants, such as Gnolls, among their number.

 

There were teeth in the cave entrance that weren't there before. I took a step forward and ran down into the dungeon at a breakneck speed and revved up my chainsword. I needed skill shards and a safe place to level up. The mid-boss I fought before would be great practice.

 

I didn't stop running as I tore through monsters, only stopping to collect skill shards that were different from what I'd seen before. As I arrived at the castle made of silver string overlooking the blood lake, I saw the rabbit mid-boss hovering atop the castle. The grip on my weapon tightened as I shot forward, slashing monsters to pieces as they attacked afterimages and misdirection. Some hesitated as if confused about where to strike, and I slaughtered them for it. Blood and gore blasted out of the curved hand guard of my chainsword away from me. In front of the gates was a blast from the past. Large crow-like birds watched me with cruel black eyes and wings like chainsaws. Feathers sharp and ridged like saw blades vibrated at incredible speeds as my wind fell upon them. They squawked in pain, and that was all the excuse I needed to cut their heads off.

 

I kicked the doors open to see numerous rabbit soldiers feasting before a dining hall. Some seemed to be telling stories of battle, while others made more rabbits on the table graphically. With my arrival, the wind carried pained screams as it swept through the revelers. I picked up a black chainsword from one of the downed crows.

 

Oblivion Alpha lvl15 

Description: A dungeon-made experimental chainsword designed to kill with incredible efficiency. Monster parts were made in the creation of this weapon, giving it the power to level up to a cap of 20. 

Crow Father I: Enemies Slain creates shadow black birds to fight for the weapon's wielder 2 levels lower than the slain creature. Cap = 1 x weapon lvl. 

 

The blade was balanced well, especially for a chainsword, and I liked the way its teeth looked like feathers instead of tiny blades. When I waved it, little motes of shadow appeared before dissipating.

 

My first attacker recovered quickly and charged me, waving a war hammer. Even in heavy steel plates, the rabbit spider chimera moved fast and gracefully. I upped the pressure from my wind, and it stumbled, giving me the opportunity to slash my new blade into the armpit where the armor was lightest. The stab gave me a brief glance at the monster's throat, and I stabbed with Oblivion. Blood, muscle, and trachea blasted out of my weapon's exhaust port. The monster fell, and from his shadow, a small, inky black bird appeared before flying up to my shoulder.

 

Blackbird lvl12 

+2 strength

 

I blinked and looked at the bird. They gave me attribute boosts. A dark aura had appeared around me, feeding my body energy. This was so much better than I thought; free attributes would help me get so much more done. I looked at the still screaming formerly reveling monsters as nothing more than free attributes.

 

My chain swords revved as I charged into them, slicing and killing with Oblivion. If I could find a completed version of the chain sword, then I would have it made. Before, I thought no equipment would really matter compared to skills, but maybe I was wrong. What I needed was the right equipment.