Unorthodox Farming 3: New Chapter 15 (Patreon)

Chapter 15

My head was still spinning from my discussion with Farentine. While talking about my future secondary class options started off pleasantly enough, by the sixteen-hour mark, I was exhausted. The Paths to Power were just the beginning. Every skill the farmer class offered me was a future class I could level through my farm. It was a way to grow stronger with limited effort. Farentine wanted me to capitalise on that.

Many of those classes offered specialisation and promotions that would enhance my combat capabilities in useful ways. The miner class, for example, had a promotion which let you sense trembles in nearby rock. Inside dungeons where there were narrow tunnels that only monsters could squeeze through, this ability allowed you to sense them coming. It prevented surprise ambushes and saved lives. The fisherman class offered promotions that let you see through water better while you were above it, and others that did the same while you were swimming beneath, along with promotions that allowed you to hold your breath longer and adjust to higher and lower pressures.  

Talking to Farentine was like talking to Ranic. They both saw the subtle connections and could weave them together to create something greater than the sum of its parts. However, there were parts I agreed with and parts that I didn't. Ranic had a plan to enhance my farm and Blackwood through my classes. Farentine's plans would only enhance my combat capabilities.

However, unlike Ranic, each one of her class guides came with detailed instructions and explanations, describing why each decision was important. Explaining things about classes that Ranic either wasn't allowed to or couldn't tell me.

I hadn't had a chance to read most of it. There wasn't enough time. And Farentine was more interested in giving me a broad understanding of what she was trying to achieve than going over every detail.

I could sum up her objective with one word.

Freedom.

As far as she was concerned, becoming a level 100 adventurer was the starting line. If I followed her advice, I would achieve that in under a decade. After that, and only if I was interested, I could begin training to become a warrior like Torvac. That would take decades. And decades longer if I wanted to surpass him.

But that would only happen if I were interested.

If I wanted it.

There was no way for me to qualify for a champion raid dungeon, and going through all that training wouldn't make my champion ability any stronger, so it was up to me.

It was my choice.

I had the freedom to choose what I wanted from this life.

All she really cared about was the decisions I made when I took the crossbowman class, and I could live with that. I didn't care about fighting. I'd seen enough dead monsters for one lifetime. I wasn't interested in creating more.

It was a damn big weight off my mind.

Farentine stuck her head through the medical tent's flaps, where I was lying on a cot, waiting to be summoned. Farentine had reported my champion ability to the king shortly after I gained it, and he had shared it with several of his generals. They'd requested to observe the demonstration, but when we arrived at the testing site just after dawn, they were nowhere to be found. There had been a minor emergency that a champion had to respond to, and their teleportation circle route through the kingdom needed to be adjusted.

I'd taken a nap in the tent, expecting to be woken, but woke up an hour later on my own. It was now midmorning.

"They're here," Farentine said.

"What took them so long?"

Farentine chuckled. "No one told their guide that they were going to be late, so the guide left when they didn't show. They didn't know where the guide lived, and this test is technically a national secret, so they were forced to find the testing site on their own, with only a vague idea of where we were. They've been running all over the countryside looking for us."

That wasn't a bad excuse. I rolled off the cot and slipped on my farmer's boots. Despite what they looked like, they were still the most comfortable footwear I'd ever owned.

I stood up and exited the tent while Farentine held the flap back. "Let's get this over with."

"Bored with me already?"

I chuckled as I followed her across the uneven ground that had been a wild forest only a few days before. Someone had constructed an eighty-foot-high mound of dirt a quarter of a mile away from where we were. There was a long clearing running all the way through the forest to it. It had been created during the past few days when someone deforested everything in between, selling the unprocessed wood to the system. The material was practically worthless to the system, so it wasn't about the money; it was about removing obstacles to the target.

Radian's Capitol was a metropolis, which made the area it covered significantly larger than a city. The test was taking place inside a forest outside its zone of influence, because the king wanted this test to be as private as possible. If the dwarves started a war, he wanted me to have an ace up my sleeve if they sent a dwarven chief my way. There were several wild dungeons in the forest, but adventurers had cleared them recently, so we were entirely alone.

The handful of assistants I'd met when we arrived were now sitting on a bench near the side of the clearing. Most were members of the Wizard Academy's faculty who specialised in barriers. The last one specialised in healing. She didn't have any healing spells, they weren't a thing here, but she did have the healer class and could hold a champion together long enough to ensure their mark allowed them to survive.

Three generals now sat beside them, covered in sweat and dirt from running through the forest.

Farentine headed over to a chest that had been left beside the firing line. She reached down and opened the chest, handing me a mithril crossbow. The purple metal practically glowed in the sunlight.

Farentine was now wearing her serious expression, the one that told me she considered what we were doing to be life-or-death. She held out the weapon. "This is a dwarven mithril crossbow. The only studier weapon you will find is a dwarven crossbow with an adamantium stock and a mithril bow. We have one, but it's too heavy for you to lift."

She passed me the crossbow.

The stock was solid mithril, but it weighed less than it would if it were made of wood. "Why do I need such a sturdy crossbow?"

"Your ability offers non-magical piercing damage. Non-magical piercing damage means recoil. With your stamina pool, that much recoil should vaporise you instantly. However, there has never been a case of an ability killing the one who used it, except in cases where the ability was incorrectly used."

That was a roundabout way of saying abilities had killed those who used it before, but I didn't point that out. "Which means what exactly?"

"There should be some form of limiter on your ability. The limiter should prevent the recoil from killing you. However, that limiter might not prevent your crossbow from exploding in your hands and being turned into shrapnel. That crossbow ensures this won't happen. It's study enough to survive situations that will turn you to mush."

That was not reassuring at all.

It almost sounded like a guess.

I needed a second opinion.

I also needed to distract Farentine from what I was doing. She knew I had a familiar mark, but she didn't know Salem, and I could communicate over any distance. A familiar's mark wasn't supposed to be able to do that, and I had promised Salem that I would keep his abilities secret. Only a handful of people knew what he was truly capable of, and Farentine wasn't among them.

I waved the weapon around, like I was uncertain. "This is much lighter than any crossbow I've ever used. Can I do a few practice shots?"

Farentine groaned at my question. "I keep forgetting you aren't qualified for your mark. I should have been making you practice all morning."

I found her comment a little insulting. "I only need a few shots. I'm trying to hit a massive mound of dirt, not a monster."

Farentine marched off. "I'll set up a target for you. If you can't hit it ten times in a row, you're going to have to practice until you can, even if you miss your lunchtime appointment."

I sent a telepathic message to Salem as she got further away. "Salem, Farentine just handed me a mithril crossbow to test my champion ability. Is it going to kill me?"

"No. But she's come to the wrong conclusion about how the limiters on your ability work."

"Is that bad?"

"It's not good."

Fuck.

"How screwed am I?"

"You'll live."

"I want a better answer than that."

"It's going to hurt, but your Crown's Champion Mark will allow you to walk away unscathed. It won't be worse than what any of the dwarves have done to you."

Some of those injuries were pretty horrific, but I'd survived the experience, so I could survive this. However, I did have one more question. "Is the pain necessary?"

"For appearance's sake, it is, so don't go suggesting otherwise. Farentine will eventually come to the right conclusion, so it won't be a permanent problem for you."

"What's the right conclusion?"

"Your ability has two physical limiters. There is what your body will survive, and what your crossbow will survive. The first limiter that triggers dictates the piercing damage. She's removed the crossbow limiter, so you're going to receive enough recoil to temporarily incapacitate you."

"Is there a limiter on the magic damage?"

"The magic damage is limited by the distance the bolt travels, but it's far less accurate than the other limiters. How far are you away from your target?"

"Quarter of a mile."

"What are you shooting at?"

"An eighty-foot mound of dirt."

"You'll be far enough away to see the full effects of your ability, and you shouldn't be hit by any shrapnel. Now leave me alone."

"Thank you for the help."

Salem didn't reply.

Farentine had purchased a standing target from the system, which was 2 yards wide, and set it up 100 yards away. She was on her way back, carrying a quiver of bolts that had also been purchased through her merchant class.

While I waited, I tried pulling back the string of the crossbow, but it didn't move more than a few inches. This clearly wasn't a weapon designed for someone like me, so I spent the remainder of my wait resting it against my shoulder, getting used to the feel. Whoever the crossbow belonged to was significantly shorter than I was. Everything about the weapon was too small for me, but that only made my job slightly harder. The target was so big, I honestly didn't think I could miss it.

 Farentine parked herself beside me and held out her hand for the crossbow. She pulled the string back effortlessly, locking it into place, before loading a bolt. "I've placed the target at the maximum range the bolt can travel without drop off. You won't need to compensate for anything, so point at the target and shoot."

She handed me the loaded crossbow and stepped to the side.

I lifted it to my shoulder, aiming for the target, and got kicked in the shoulder when I squeezed. I let out a surprised, "oof," as I was sent staggering backwards several steps. The crossbow had jerked up so hard and suddenly, I would have lost my grip without my Sure Grip ability. Pain raced across my shoulder but immediately began to recede as my Crown's Champion Mark took care of the bruising.  

I'd fired shotguns and high-calibre rifles with my dad when I was younger, but nothing that kicked like this.

Farentine chuckled as I stepped up to the line, rubbing my shoulder. "You might not have been dignified, but you hit your target. Hand it back, and we'll do it again."

I handed it back.

Farentine made me shoot the target twenty more times before she was satisfied. With the size of the target, my aim wasn't anything to brag about, but it was more than enough to prove I wouldn't miss the mound of dirt.

Farentine looked at me as she handed me the crossbow. "We're doing this for real this time, so follow my instructions to the letter."

We'd discussed the test on the run here, so I knew what to expect. "I'm ready."

Farentine handed me the crossbow.

I kept my finger off the trigger and lifted it to my shoulder.

Farentine remained beside me. "Try to activate your ability."

"One shot."

Nothing happened.

"One shot."

Nothing happened again.

Farentine nodded. "It requires you to place your finger on the trigger, as I thought. Do it again."

I placed my finger on the trigger. "One shot."

Farentine leapt back as bright golden flames covered me. The flames didn't hurt. I couldn't feel them. But they were concerning. I kept my trigger finger steady as I looked down. It was like my entire body was on fire. It made me think of a discount store Super Saiyan transformation.

"Is this normal?" I asked.

"Perfectly normal," Farentine replied. "Now gently take your finger off the trigger!"

I took my finger off the trigger, and the flames vanished.

Farentine smiled and stepped closer. "So far, everything works the way I assumed. Did the cooldown on your ability trigger?"

I opened my interface and checked. "No."

"Perfect. We've proven that being ready to take your shot is necessary, and that removing your finger from the trigger deactivates the ability. We've also proven that it's not a stealth ability, because that aura surrounding you is impossible to hide. Let's move on to the next test."

She stepped back.

"Activate your ability."

I placed my finger on the trigger. "One Shot."

The discount store Super Saiyan transformation returned.

I began counting.

"Remain still until the glow fades," Farentine reminded me.

The system based its descriptions of my ability on the Academy of Law's understanding of abilities. This meant it didn't always tell you exactly what an ability could do or how it could do it. With such a powerful ability, Farentine expected there to be all sorts of information missing from the description, which was why this test wasn't as simple as point-and-shoot.

Roughly thirty seconds after I activated my ability, the glow faded. Farentine waited another few minutes before telling me to take my finger off the trigger.

I looked over. "Are we dealing with the first or second scenario?"

"The first. Your aura never weakened, so you can't influence the ability's damage by waiting to fire."

I nodded back, waiting for her next instructions.

My discussion with Salem had already confirmed what she'd said, but I couldn't let her know that.

Farentine walked over and motioned to the crossbow and my body. "The fact that the aura surrounds you and not just your crossbow or the bolt is fantastic. It means your ability takes everything into account when it fires. Because of the full-body aura, it won't convert all your stamina to piercing damage. You're as safe as I thought you would be, and that crossbow will prevent any unexpected complications."

This was the first time I knew she was wrong about something, but I wasn't going to betray Salem's trust by pointing that out. He was an asshole, but there was no doubt in my mind that he would pick up and leave this world if anyone ever tried to make him do something he didn't want to. The chances of that happening went up with every person who knew.

"You're sure this is safe?" I asked.

Farentine flashed me a relaxed grin. "Now more than ever. I'll even remain by your side to prove it."

She took several steps to the side and two back, so she was outside the area my aura covered. She could still clearly see the crossbow, but she wasn't close enough for me to touch her. She was still much closer than I'd expected. Which was when she cast a spell and surrounded herself with a transparent barrier.

I raised an eyebrow.

Farentine continued to grin. "I'm too valuable to Radian to take unnecessary risks." She summoned a second barrier and then a third. "You can never be too careful." Two more layers appeared.

Each barrier was shaped like a bubble, slightly warping her appearance. With so many, her face was a little blurred.

After spending the last few days together, I felt I understood her humour. "Maybe a few more layers," I suggested.

Farentine laughed, and the barriers vanished. "Fire when ready. 

I turned to the hill, adjusted the crossbow, and placed my finger on the trigger, remembering my dad's lessons from when he taught me how to hunt rabbits. They were rather boring memories. He was strict when it came to gun safety.

You never moved your feet with a loaded weapon. It didn't matter if you if there was a safety. People tripped, fell, and slipped when they moved without looking, so you needed to remove that variable from the equation to prevent accidents. You only ever loaded the round once you had found your target. Then you sighted that target three times, once through the scope, once with your eyes, and then again with your scope.

You had to be completely certain about what you were aiming at. What was behind what you were aiming at. And what was around what you were aiming at. If you weren't entirely certain, you unloaded the gun and kept hunting.

If you were certain about the terrain and your target, then the safety came off, and you put your finger on the trigger, taking responsibility for what came next.

He'd drummed those lessons into me so hard that I couldn't do it any other way without forcing myself to. My path was clear, and my target was a huge mound of dirt. There was nothing along the treeline I had to worry about.

I placed my finger on the trigger. "One Shot."

The discount store Super Saiyan transformation returned.

"Fire when ready," Farentine repeated.

I checked my aim one last time and squeezed the trigger.

The hand of God struck me down for my hubris.

A supersonic boom drowned out the sound of my shoulder and ribs cracking as I was sent flying backwards like I'd been struck by a god damn pickup doing ninety on the freeway. I was barely airborne when a flash of light exploded from where the mound had been. Dirt went flying in all directions. As my body registered what had happened, the shockwave from my ability approached, and the sound from the explosion drowned out my string of curses come from my lips.

You have taken 4,882 bludgeoning damage.

I bounced across the deforested dirt, smearing mud over every inch of my body, before coming to a stop. I pushed myself onto my back, no longer holding the crossbow. My Sure Grip ability had never failed me, but then I'd never launched the equivalent of a missile from a crossbow before.

Dirt clumps arched through the sky as I lay there. I could force my body to move if I wanted to, but I didn't. Everything hurt. I focused my mind long enough to send Salem a telepathic message. "Fuck you!"

Then I lay back and waited for the pain to go away.