Book 1: Chapter 2: The perks of being over-leveled.

Book 1: Chapter 2: The perks of being over-leveled.

Felt weird, waking up in another mans body.

Maybe I should just be thankful it wasnt a womans. Then itd be really fucking strange. Still, man or not, this was still a gigantic slab of muscle and for whatever fault the previous inhabitant had possessed, it was built like it could toss most cars overhead.

I had somehow met the prerequisites for the System to grant me the Farmer class. For now, I had no Skills to go with that. If my general knowledge was correct, those would come later. I was excited, sure, but had other things to dwell on. Like supplies and praying for some rain.

Kept that in mind as I trudged down the road towards the only town in any decent distance. Hullbretch was the same old one-stop little town he had passed through a dozen times between here and the frontier. At least that was how Garek remembered it. Inn and tavern were the same building, the village head probably heard complaints and cases once a week, few dusty stores, hovels and houses scattered along the path, and big old Castle Ironmoor up the road to keep it relevant.

A few farmsteads along the roads broke up the plains, and wetlands dotted with forests made up most of the view. Lovely. My own farm was back towards Mount Redtip, so I descended downwards the entire way.

The scenery wasnt on my mind, however. Gareks skills were. I had briefly glanced over them before, but with little to do, I sunk back in again.

Plethora was the only word that came to mind as an apt description.

He had skills for damn near anything that involved bloodshed, making it happen, finding the nearest source of it happening and prolonging it happening. Witness the debut of this chapter, unveiled through Ñôv€l--B1n.

Case in point: Relentless Charge. Merely being focused on the Skill showed me a vague mental image of its application. Using it would cause me to charge in a perfectly straight line at increasing speeds up to a threshold and keep charging until I reached the enemy. Useful for a lot more than marathon running.

The entire list of what Garek possessed was actually staggering.

Brutal Swing, Relentless Charge, Head Smash, Thickened Fur, Shed Coat, Cloven Crash, Scream of Fury, Blood for Blood, It Will Not Die, Berserk, Ironhide, Gold is Power, and Brazen Bull Behemoth.

Brutal Swing came as advertised. An almost instant transition from any regular attack into a near-unstoppable swing meant to cleave anything in two.

Funnily enough, Head Smash didnt involve bashing somethings brains in, but ramming my skull into something. Given the glossy obsidian horns atop my new head, that could very well be fatal. To them, not me.

Thickened Fur and Shed Coat looked to be defensive utility skills. Some of the very few he had the sense to possess. Very: offense is the best defense vibe here. His fur already felt like a heavy wire brush at times. Didnt take a genius to see where these two were going. Thickened Fur puffed it up even further, Shed Coat trimmed it down for faster movement.

Cloven Crash was interesting, If any of the gore skills could actually have that effect on me. It locked the target in place until Garek fullbody crashed into them. No stated duration on the effect.

Scream of Fury looked like a self-buff. Once wounded, you could trigger it and gain advantage against whatever or whoever inflicted said wound on you. Gained a bonus after they had been killed.

Blood for Blood was that but on hyper-steroids. Every wound you took for a single opponent would be paid back exactly as received. I didnt linger over the mental picture of two people horrifically bleeding out and mentally scampered on.

I blinked and realized why he had felt confident enough to take Blood For Blood. It WIll not Die was exactly as described. The wielder simply refused death while it was active. Why had I expected any nuance in the naming department of this System? Still, great skill, probably the best one he possessed. Should have activated it before overdosing. Okay that was dickish.

Berserk needed little explanation. Go rage, get stronk, soak damage and hit hard. Friends steer clear while active.

I blinked as the information digested itself. Monsters would be disastrous for my farm. Crops torn, animals slaughtered, the stuff that nobody back on my homeworld had to deal with, but was just a matter of fact here.

To my genuine surprise, they simply thanked me and rode on once I had given directions. No sideways looks, no hidden jabs or threats. Maybe Id read too many books that dramatized medieval life.

Even at a brisk pace, it took several hours to reach the town of Hullbretch. To my surprise, I found a decently large, walled settlement. Bustling didnt describe it, but there was traffic about. This being late spring, people toiled away in damp croplands, seeding the land. There were a few late planters still plowing their fields, in no rush thanks to the long seasons. Yeah, the seasons here were twice to three times as long as back home.

I had randomly pieced that together by circumstantial information gleaned from Gareks memories. Mostly how ungodly long the winter was.

Gate guards were, well, guards. Bored, paid to be suspicious, and on the lookout for anything outside the usual. I expected them to stop me and wasnt surprised when it happened. What did surprise me was that they just waved me through after a few questions.

What surprised me more was the stone streets, neat layout, and overall niceness of the town. Then I remembered levels and skills were a thing and that I wasnt the special messiah who only got and used them. There were trees between the houses, double-story buildings, wagons, and even gardens. Everything was a tad dusty, sure, but people here lived well, at least on the surface.

My small list of things I needed had simple destinations. A blacksmith, carpenter, seed-seller, butcher, and grocery shop. Maybe a tavern as well. The blacksmith was the easiest to find. Being a large forge right on the main street had that effect. A large, gruff man with equally sturdy apprentices looked up as I stooped through the doorway.

Human-sized everythings were quickly becoming my least favorite thing about this new world.

To his credit, the man didnt bat an eye at my request for a minotaur-sized, steel plough. Just took my coin and told me itd be done in a few hours. Of that, I actually had little doubt. While ploughs were usually made up of mostly wood, that was a little too frail for what I had in mind.

For the carpenter, I did end up having to flag down several people to acquire directions. Mostly because several ignored me out of fright. The young lad behind the desk carefully informed me that his master was out of town on a job and would only return after several days. A hindrance, to be sure, but such was life. I could get my wood another time.

It ended up being the town stables that sold me a wagon, although he seemed insistent on selling me some horses to go with it. I didnt need them. After securing a promise to keep the wagon there until I was ready to leave, I was on my way again.

Being this big and beefy made the vague, implied threats of what would happen if the cart went missing all the more effective. This body was actually growing on me.

Next was the seed-seller. I was late in the planting season, so the unfortunate reality was that I would have to make do with crops nobody really wanted. Oats, barley and a few meager sacks of wheat were all that remained. I took them all. The woman behind the counter was best described by the product she sold, but tactical looming convinced her to hold onto my stock until I returned. Who knew intimidation could inspire such honesty in others?

A bronzed woman leaned against the butchers shop, covered in furs and thick with the scent of blood. A single eye stared me down, the other blank and scarred. The greatbow on her back, quiver of arrows by her side and knife in her hands revealed her as a Huntress. What set her apart was the lack of any sort of fear-scent as I approached the shop. She knew what I was, and didnt care.

I was the one who looked away first. My excuse being that I had to stoop to get inside the place. A man best described by stubble and gut turned away from the hanging carcasses and to me. Surprised as he was at me wanting meat, he was more than happy to sell me large quantities. A raucous laugh informed me it wouldnt be going anywhere anyhow when I requested he hold onto it until I returned.

From the dry goods and general store I bought every conceivable item I could make use of. I needed storable food, actual utensils, cooking implements, rope, steel wire for fences, everything. This time I provided some gold instead of threats to keep the items in wait. They were still there when I trudged back up, the wagon pulled behind me. Heavy stuff on the bottom and crushable stuff on top was what I remembered while loading it.

I wanted to leave the butcher for last, because meat in the sun was no ones idea of fun. But straw and burlap provided some decent, if temporary insulation. The huntress watched me all the while, sharpening a knife in her hands.

The bags of seeds went in the front, away from any sharp corners that could tear the bags open. My plough was finished by the time I had returned, no doubt the product of a decent level and good Skills. I got several looks of surprise and even an impressed nod as I grabbed the mass of steel, hauled it up on my shoulder and carried it from the open forge area. That too got deposited onto the wagon.

Hell, it was most of why I got the wagon in the first place. Everything else I could probably carry, but walking home with a steel plow on my shoulder would suck. Even for Garek.

Everything I needed save for wood in the wagon, I grabbed the handles and began to haul. It was a long way back home, and I still had things to do.