Infinite Farmer

Chapter 48: Cannian Knight



The next few days went faster than Tulland expected. Sun Giants were faster, but absolute pushovers in terms of tanking compared to their brothers. Only the Water Giants who rose out of the sea were any harder to kill, and that only because they were hard to plan for. But soon enough, Tulland was capped on every single type of them, and a few hours away from his garden being as much of a power-plant as he could expect it to be in a reasonable amount of time.

"You look morose." Necia was rubbing her feet next to the fire. It was a habit of hers, something she did every night to take the sting out of a day's worth of armored-shoe-wearing. She had, Tulland felt, nice feet. He wasn't an expert, but it was hard to imagine anyone having feet he liked more. "Real sad."

"Well, yeah. This is the last night before you go face the big bad knight, right?" Tulland asked.

"That's what The Infinite says. I'll be thrown in there if I don't go voluntarily," Necia said.

"That's why I'm sad. All this has been very nice. It's the best farm I'll ever be able to grow. It's the strongest I've ever been. It's the most time I've ever spent with someone like you."

"Aww."

"Aww indeed, but it's ending tomorrow. I can hardly enjoy all this stuff I made."

Necia raised her eyebrows.

"Really? Because that's a lot of cool stuff."

Giant's Toe Armor Set

Crafted from the lumber of the Giant's Toe and held together with joints of Wolfwood and Lunger Briar, this armor is a marvel of wood and grown materials. While it pales in comparison to expertly crafted leather armor (not even mentioning the superiority of class-crafted metal gear) it is still more than sturdy enough to stop a few blows, while being light and flexible enough to move in.

This set includes a helmet and breastplate, as well as arm and leg protection. Your feet and hands are still largely unprotected, but gloves and shoes are an art unto themselves.

The lack of gloves and boots was not for lack of trying. Tulland had simply been unable to get the Dungeon System to acknowledge any of his efforts in that direction, or craft anything better than what he had already. Necia was still right. This much gear would usually leave him cackling with glee at his own improved survivability.

But the prospect of losing Necia made that glow just a bit dimmer. Especially when he was losing her to a clear and real danger, something she might not be able to get out of safely.

"I do like it. But it's… yeah. I made a decision today. You know what The Infinite said about me being able to follow you? I'm doing it," Tulland said.

That notification had come in on their fourth day together, just a simple message from the Dungeon System letting them know their cooperation on this level was enough to convince it that they should be able to move through the boss level together. Not together in the sense that they would be able to help each other with their respective Cannian Knights, but at least entering the arches at roughly the same time and being able to wait for each other's dimensions to merge before they both moved on.

Of course, one or the other of them might not make it, and then they would have to move on alone anyway. But at least he'd know.

"That's stupid, Tulland."

"It's really not. My farm is as good as it's going to be. I'm as well-armed as I'm going to get. And it's not like I'm going to get better at fighting to a significant degree alone here. There's no reason for me not to go with you."

"There's no reason for you to do it either. It's hurrying. Hurrying, Tulland, is bad."

Tulland stood from his stool and walked to where Necia was sitting, kneeling to the side of her. He grabbed her hand and brought it up to his cheek.

"Gross, Tulland. Those smell like feet."

"I don't care. Listen." Tulland lowered her hand down to where he could grab it with his other hand as well, and cradled it in-between them. "I'm going. It's fine. Just let me do it. If I'm being honest, being here alone wouldn't be good for me, anyway. I'd end up doing something stupid."

"Now, that I can believe." Necia sighed. "Fine, Tulland. But you had better make it. Or I'll track my way into your dimension and kill you again."

The next morning, they were fed, packed, and fully leveled for the challenge. There was nothing left to do but walk through the arch, which they were now standing in front of, procrastinating.

"There's a giant in the distance."

"I know." Tulland had heard it a few seconds ago, coming directly at them. "I just don't care."

"Well, you should. We can't fight the knight tired. Do you have all your gear on?"

"I do."

"And all your little tricks? You still think those will work?"

"I hope so. But they are all as ready as they can be."

"Good. Then good luck." Necia bent down a foot or so to get her battle-form head low enough to kiss Tulland's cheek. "And I'll see you on the other side. Okay?"

"Okay." Tulland reached up and brushed his fingers across her cheek. "Go. I'll be right behind you."

There was a minute delay between arch activations, so Tulland had to wait a bit once she was gone to enter his own instance of the level five challenge. The giant made good time too. By the time he could enter, he really had to. He was almost glad for the monster coming. It saved him from any chance of chickening out.

Equipment Check

You are entering the fifth floor. Within, there is one combat to be had. You will either kill it or die by its hands, with no other outcomes to be had.

As such, you are allowed to leave any unnecessary gear here. On victory, it will be returned to you. In the case of your defeat, it will be destroyed, just as it would have otherwise.

"Should I be worried about this, System?"

Of course. You could have stayed in that place for months to come, and it would have been worth it for even a single drop of additional strength.

"I meant the Equipment Check."

Leave anything you don't need. You are a fool, Tulland Lowstreet.

"Thanks. Nice to know you care."

Tulland shrugged off his pack, taking out a bandolier of explosive flowers he looped over his shoulder. He had experimented with extra armaments as much as he could, but The Infinite had used the Market Wagon skill as reason enough to disallow Tulland from becoming half plant and half man. He couldn't loop briars over his armor. He couldn't build backup spears.

But he had a dozen briars of different types in his dimensional storage. These were his trump plants, much stronger than anything else he could include in his arsenal. On top of that, the bandolier of flowers weren't enhanced by Market Wagon, but were stronger from being grown on the enhanced Swamp Ache trees. He had a good dozen of them tied to him now, waiting to be pulled from the bark they were mounted on.

I don't.

"Sure you don't. And you weren't lonely at all during my week with Necia. But I appreciate you putting up with it, for what it's worth. And if I don't make it here, I guess I just hope you use my strength well."

Not that you'd be able to believe this, and I don't blame you, but I would use your strength well. I'd use it to its utmost.

Tulland nodded, then cut the connection before glancing at his stats one last time.

Tulland Lowstreet Class: Chaos Farmer LV. 30

Strength: 30 Agility: 30 Vitality: 35 (+5) Spirit: 45 Mind: 20 Force: 65

Skills: Primal Growth LV. 9, Produce Armament LV. 6, Market Wagon LV. 0

Passives: Broadcast LV. 10, Botanical Engineer LV. 9, Strong Back LV. 6, Fruits of the Field LV. 3, Farmer's Intuition LV. 5

Putting down his pack in the white room, he stretched a bit and took a deep breath before The Infinite sent him on.

The field of battle was red, not necessarily because of what was in it, but instead because everything was bathed in a crimson light, like he had arrived during a spectacular sunset. The space itself was something like a small box canyon, a large, flat area with reliable-looking, mostly flat terrain. There would be plenty of room to fight, nowhere to run, and few footing-based tricks for either party to take advantage of.

It was about the best place he had seen for a battle. And looking at his opponent, he would need it.

Cannian Knight

No world of significant age escapes knowledge of the Cannian Knight. It is the first substantial challenge of The Infinite, and perhaps its most prolific killer. It is strong. It is trained. It is well-equipped. In all ways, it is built to accurately represent an exceptional warrior of similar levels to those that reach it.

To defeat it, you must be something more than exceptional. You must be excellent, perhaps, but most importantly you must be something unexpected. The Cannian Knight is an expert, but conventional warrior of limited knowledge. It has excellent eyesight, smell, and natural weapons that leave it dangerous even when unarmed, but it is not invincible. It can be caught off guard. It can be tricked.

As with all risks, defeating it comes with rewards. Not the least of which is access to the fifth floor safe zone, a place of safety, resources, and rest.

Fight bravely, Infinite Delver. And good luck.

Tulland was facing something more terrible than he had ever expected. Facing him was nothing less than a humanoid wolf, a muscle-bound being with slavering jaws, rage-filled eyes, and razored claws.

Tulland had spent most of his life a child, and facing this knight seemed so much like having accidentally angered an adult. But however threatened he might feel, he would gain nothing from letting the knight continue its advance unchallenged, of getting into range with its long sword at its own pace.

Tulland's arm jerked as he threw three Acheflowers at it, letting them explode on its sword when it moved to parry them. The knight looked uncomfortable as the powder engulfed it, but not much more than that. Tulland was not surprised. There was never much chance The Infinite would let him intoxicate his way out of a real fight. But it did make the monster jerk back just enough that Tulland could slide past it, keeping its sword pinned down with his pitchfork as he made his way to its flank.

The knight roared and swung his sword, but Tulland was gone. The next backhand strike from the knight would have likely taken his head if he hadn't slipped backward from that too.

And yet he felt a chance, if only because his command over the plants was so much stronger now. And after Primal Growth consumed Command Plan, he could get some vague directions besides attack and don't attack across to the vines now.

First vine, neck and eyes. Second vine, legs. Third vine, sword shoulder. Slow him down.

Tulland was moving forward and under the sword as his vines made contact and tightened, perfectly understanding his instructions and targeting the exact areas he had asked them to. His Primal Growth usage left him drained, but made the vines just strong enough to not get pulled apart by the knight's movement alone.

Choking up on his pitchfork, Tulland managed to get a few stabs in around the waist joint of the knight's armor as his opponent clawed off the vine around its face. Tulland knew the fight was going to be much harder from here, but kept attacking. He got two more shots in before he was cut by an incidental movement of the knight's sword. Then danced back as the knight managed to clear the vine restricting its arm. Throwing two more flowers, he managed to get out of range enough to not get cut in half as the knight began to turn its full strength to ripping apart the briar on its legs.

Let go. Get on something higher. NOW.

Tulland watched with satisfaction as the strength the knight was putting into freeing itself from the vine suddenly lost leverage, sending it spilling to the ground as it lost its grip on its own sword.

Tulland sprung in with his pitchfork, stomping down on the back of the knight's head and stabbing at the back of its neck as he commanded the briar to give up on attacking the knight in favor of wrapping itself awkwardly around the blade of the sword. He was unsure how much damage his weapon was actually doing, except seeing flecks of blood. He managed to move forward a bit past the knight's searching claws, change the form of his weapon, and bring a downward chop with his hoe-form Farmer's Tool to the back of one of its knees.

The knight roared in pain as it took damage to its leg, rocking violently enough to send Tulland stumbling. In an instant, it got up on a fist and dug its toes into the ground, rocketing toward Tulland unarmed. The knight's armored shoulder made solid contact with the side of Tulland's stomach like a battering ram, cracking something inside of him as the force sent him stumbling back several steps. He desperately stabbed out with his weapon and threw the last of his flowers, buying just a moment of time as the knight flinched away from that bit of trouble.

Every Lunger Briar. Go. Primal Growth.

Tulland's magic bottomed out as a cloud of briars sprung from nowhere. The knight had been moving forward with its claws bared, confident it could end things here. Instead, it got a face full of spiky plants, grasping everywhere they could with all the strength the last of Tulland's magic could provide. If he wanted to use any more spells, he'd have to buy some time.

So far, things were going about as well as they could. This was always going to be an enemy that was far faster, stronger, and better equipped than Tulland. He was never going to be able to hide from it. All he could do, he had decided, was to keep it just distracted enough to damage it and level the playing field before he ran out of resources.

And in doing that, he had already seen a minor success. The knight's leg was leaking blood, and he had noticed just the slightest delay in that last lunge forward for his neck. It would eventually heal, but for now, Tulland abandoned all thoughts of going for vital areas in favor of attacking his opponent's knees.

The knight howled and thrashed as it tried to throw off the vines, but the majority of them were unaffected by the motion, having already dug thorns into at least one soft spot. Tulland knew that had to hurt. He had felt those thorns, once upon a time. They were like fire. The knight's claws were flashing and killing a vine every time they moved. But Tulland was able to fit quite a few bundled briars in that dimensional space, and as the knight tried to turn to keep up with him, he was pounding at its healthy leg with his tool turned trident.

When the last of the vines were gone, Tulland pulled back as the knight limped to its sword with still formidable speed, tore the vine from around the handle, and picked it up. It was hurt, but far from down. Tulland was low on resources now and the last few he had were going to have to count if he wanted to live.

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