The Corrupted Forest

About three kilometers south of the cabin, the world went dark so suddenly it felt as if night had fallen. It wasn't the tall weeds this time. Thick, towering trees choked out the light even in the middle of the day.

"Isn't this reward a little too generous?"

The whole vast forest was a single dungeon. An S- rank boss was lurking in here somewhere, so treating the place as a dungeon made sense—but I still couldn't help marveling when yet another sub quest popped up.

Even Farming World had never thrown this many quests at me. There were plenty meant to help players settle in, main quests and sub quests alike, but nothing on this scale. More precisely, the volume might have been comparable. The rewards had never been this packed.

A quest, back then, was something you glanced at—oh, a quest popped—skimmed, and closed after pocketing some pocket change. You almost never sat there staring a hole through the reward window. And this was the Level 0 Biome. By that logic, an A-rank dungeon quest showing up here didn't make any sense either.

Call it a solid reason to grow. This wasn't a game, and it wasn't anything else either, but for someone who had to clear the Rift Dimension, I couldn't think of a clearer push. How vast was this map? Even the mere Level 0 Biome stretched this far. How many years would it take to break through all of it and see what was there? If they were already handing rewards out like this, just how strong were the monsters waiting farther in?

The quest rewards smashed every one of those worries flat. Yeah. Don't think about it. Shut up and go. You clear it. The rewards will be better than anything you're imagining. That was what it seemed to be saying.

"A life-skill selection ticket is a little disappointing, though."

Maybe they'd decided a plain S+ rank ability selection ticket would throw the balance off. Then again, clearing the Corrupted Forest was practically a main-quest clear and came with an SSS+ rank ability selection ticket, so was there really any point in talking about balance? The Farm Management system that would unlock once I cleared this dungeon had my interest too.

"Is it what I think it is?"

Farming World was a game you could play solo, and one that also pushed multiplayer. In multiplayer, players each picked and raised their own abilities. In single player, that was impossible. Strictly by difficulty, solo really was harder than playing with others. Did that mean solo came with any compensation?

It did not. Plenty of people had complained it was basically telling friendless losers to go die. Even so, single player had a charm of its own. You could put NPCs or slaves to work managing the farm and invest Farming stat points into them. Of course, the grumbling came naturally—you barely had enough points to raise your own character, and they wanted you to spend them on mere NPCs? It was still one way to grow a farm. A farm didn't get bigger just because you got stronger alone, so by the later stages, raising NPCs had become part of the fun. Spare Farming stat points. Ability selection tickets. Plenty of players geared their NPCs in items, and plenty more formed hunting parties out of nothing but NPCs and sent them off on expeditions.

I'd made good use of that system myself, and enjoyed it. In a sense, Farm Management was content unique to Farming World, something that took the fatigue off the player. If it opened here, that meant I could use it to grant abilities to NPCs or slaves in this world too.

"If it actually works, that wouldn't be bad at all."

I stepped into the Corrupted Forest with that hope in mind. A thick fog lay over everything, and I could barely see ahead. The tall, heavy trees blocked my view on top of that, and the wind was loud enough to be real noise, so keeping watch wasn't easy. Every step, the fallen leaves carpeting the ground rustled and gave my position away. I had to be careful.

Grrrr—

I hadn't been in the forest five minutes when a chilling cry reached me. Eight pairs of red eyes were already watching from behind the trees they used as cover. Even at a fair distance they held their ground, matching every step I took so the gap never changed, wary the whole time.

"Nasty. Gray wolves?"

The gray wolves I knew were B- rank monsters. These looked similar, but I'd never seen any this large, eyes half-glazed and burning red. They must have been exposed to that corrupted energy, or whatever it was, and grown stronger for it. Their numbers didn't climb past eight. Grrrr— Drooling, waiting only for the moment to spring, their patience didn't feel like fear holding them back.

They were sizing me up. Gathering information on someone they'd never seen in this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠forest, waiting for the moment they could hunt me for certain. Gray wolves had always hunted that way, whether the prey was bigger than they were or stronger. They wore their quarry down, gnawing at it little by little until it died. That was why hunting them was exhausting. Drop one or two and the rest used their own kin's deaths as cover to attack, so the hunt itself wore you out—and the mental fatigue afterward was no small thing either.

The best way to deal with them was still to take them all at once. Kill them ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in a single sweep before they could react, and neither their clever hunting nor their practiced attrition meant a thing. I drew my sword, triggered Leap Slash, and cut down five of them. I'd been wanting to test the Two-Fold Strike I'd just learned. The timing was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠perfect.

Pap-pap-pap-pap-pat!

Kyiiing—!

Kieeeng!

Grrrr!

Master of Melee Weapons granted 1,000% attack power. Leap Slash's 100% attack power rose to 150% under the Sewer Sword's effect, and when Two-Fold Strike landed on top of that, its 200% bonus damage was corrected upward and went in as 300%.

An absurd inflation stacked on an absurd inflation. The synergy was genuinely from another world.

The five gray wolves that took the hit had their eyes rolled back and drool stringing from their jaws, looking halfway to rabid—and then those eyes rolled white as they dropped. One blow. There was no need to check whether the 10% chance to bleed had procced. A second hit of 300% bonus damage, riding in on 1,150% additional attack power, was the same as striking once more at 4,600% attack power. If it had been a wooden sword with pitiful base attack to begin with, maybe it would have been different. The attack power of an A- Sewer Sword sent even gray wolves of at least B- rank off in a single stroke.

"Hoo... way too strong."

I got drunk on it. A skill that devoured a whole ten Farming stat points said as much: because I had learned an SSS+ rank ability, the bare minimum of "good faith" was enough to let me acquire a skill of this power for a mere ten points—not as many as ten, but only ten.

Even in the A- rank Corrupted Forest dungeon, I was the predator. I felt it in a single exchange. I felt it, and the gray wolves felt it. The difference was that the Big Rats and the Gobrings had fled the moment they did. They knew there was no answer. Charging in wouldn't change anything. They'd only become moths dying a little faster.

The gray wolves were not like those two kinds of prey. Gray wolves are predators. At least in the Level 0 Biome, they had absorbed the corrupted energy, grown strong, and lived lives in which nothing dared challenge them. When they met a predator stronger than themselves, they had far more experience of betting their lives, charging in, biting, and winning than they did of running away. This time was no different.

"Grrrr—!"

The remaining wolves lunged at me all at once. If only they could tear into my weak, slender nape. Their movements carried the certainty that they could seize a victory worth more than their kin's deaths.

It was the right choice, in a way. My one and only weakness, my one shortcoming, was my low HP—I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn't wearing any armor. Even the Gobrings' spit had shaved off 10 to 15 percent at a time, so here, one bad bite really could end me in a single hit. If my reflexes had been even a little duller, it might have been dangerous.

Pap-pap-pap-pat!

An A- rank dungeon didn't make it any different. The remaining gray wolves collapsed, spilling their death cries. For an instant I saw them react and thrash, trying to dodge. That was all. Without Two-Fold Strike, a wolf or two might have held on. But that was only a hypothetical.

"For now, I'll file these as fast Gobrings and call it done."

I butchered them for hide and meat, packing the spoils away in high spirits as I made the assessment.