The dark clouds in the sky pressed low, and the heavy moisture in the coastal areas made even the daily rain in Velen feel oppressive.
On the land of Velen, tall trees, which have grown wildly for unknown ages, swayed like dancing demons in the howling winds and dim daylight.
But the essence of the scenery can never compare to the feelings within a person's heart.
In this scene of black clouds covering the earth, a young man was trotting happily on a rugged path, leading two horses.
Humming a tune he didn't even recognize, Lann bobbed along with Bopai's steps.
When one is in a cheerful mood, everything feels joyous, making the choice of song irrelevant.
To those unaware, his ease on horseback seemed like that of the Hakland people who lived and grew up on horseback.
Even the finest riders would never imagine that this was the riding skill of a young man who had only mounted a horse for just over a month.
Breathing with the horse's breaths, adjusting his posture with the horse's shifting center of gravity...
Even the champions of regional horse racing competitions could only achieve this at best in their lifetimes.
And this kind of progress, which completely crushes the learning capacity of natural humans underfoot, is merely the normal performance of Mentos' bio-intelligent brain under strained computing conditions.
Developing training plans, monitoring training status down to the muscle bundle precision, quantifying training results...
The Human Union's education law does not permit a bio-intelligent brain to intervene physically in the user until they possess university-level knowledge.
Meaning the intelligent brain cannot interfere with physical behavior.
Yet, in this learning system, Lann rarely repeats any bad habit more than five times.
This has already significantly advanced his technique to a higher level.
Lann frequently complained about Mentos' inflexible underlying logic, which always made his brain feel like a soda bottle when showcasing a training plan, yet he was very grateful in his heart.
In this dangerous world, Mentos could not have been more helpful in allowing a young man with no roots to survive.
And now, the "hero" in its neutral-toned intelligent voice continued to babble.
"Sir, you've been humming your song for two hours, forty-four minutes, and six seconds, with several repetitions, pauses, and key changes... I sincerely suggest that if you have an interest in music, you should pursue some fundamental music theory when your life becomes stable and prosperous. Believe me, I can provide reasonable assistance for your hobbies."
The light-hearted smile on the young man's face froze imperceptibly.
Unsure if it was Lann's imagination, he felt that Mentos' tone was somewhat hesitant.
As if carefully weighing words, particularly when describing his singing... Of course, this was purely his overthinking!
For the ego-sensitive and pathetic creatures, such suspicion is a common trait.
Everything of the intelligent brain is derived from his brain cells; how could it be that my brain cells dislike the song I'm humming?
Thus, atop the horse, Lann decisively declared: "Mentos, you must remember. Music is great because it carries the emotions of intelligent beings, while rhythm and theory are merely embellishments. They are optional!"
"But even if you say so, your melody is still too..."
Also unknown if it was an illusion, Mentos, with its [musical aesthetic] formed based on all music Lann heard over eighteen years, began feeling somewhat uncomfortable.
Not severely, just as if it was about to crack.
"Say no more!" On Bopai's back, the young man waved his hand decisively. "Just tell me if I'm in a good mood now or not."
Mentos gave an immediate answer without pause.
"Judging by your hormone levels and brainwave data, you are indeed in a [happy] state."
"Then this is the [Song of Joy]! Beautiful music carrying emotions!"
As the master said that, the intelligent brain could only remain silent.
Lann's offbeat humming paused due to this conversation, but it resumed as raindrops started falling.
With the splashes meeting the young rider's face and body, he couldn't help but start humming again shortly after.
Mentos' analysis was entirely correct; he was genuinely feeling joyful at that moment.
He was, after all, a young man not even nineteen years old.
After experiencing the most critical exam of his life, and in what was supposed to be the most unrestrained long holiday after twelve years of schooling, he had arrived in this damn world.
Claiming to be a college student, in truth, he had only received an admission letter and seen a photo of the school gate on the university's website.
He was a pure virgin who hadn't even held a girl's small hand.
This young man, after going through a hellish transformation of his body, willful sealing of emotions, strict self-discipline, a meticulous and decisive plan for revenge... had personally killed his mentor and oppressor.
The emotions stemming from this were quite complex.
But at the moment he regained his sovereignty over his life, he truly felt happy.
Bopai had the stamina to match its price tag; before the rain drops could seep through the layer of black grease on Lann's suit of cotton armor, they had reached their destination.
A fishing village on the shores of the swamp lake, Auridon.
The entire village had about a hundred people; due to the terrain, they seemed like the Dai People from Lann's home world.
Piling wooden stakes deep into the ground, laying down planks, and then building houses on those elevated boards to separate themselves from the periodically invading lake water below.
The horse's hooves made a "slap-slap" sound in the mud.
The bear-roaring silver necklace around the young man's neck clinked in tandem.
Lann paused momentarily before entering the village.
The surroundings had changed compared to his previous journey here with Bordeaux—a pair of long, tall wooden poles stood by the roadside.
Two corpses with their heads covered in burlap sacks, not even wearing shoes, swayed rigidly against the gloomy sky.
Lann approached the poles, where a notice was posted.
{In the name of Sir Viserad, execution by hanging is imposed on the thieving gang operating in Auridon. This is intended as a reminder for everyone to adhere to laws and morality, steering clear of shameless and dirty deeds.}
"Concise, with limited literary flair. But for a scribe working in Velen, what more could you ask?"
The young man tugged the reins, riding away.
Lann was young, but he had received an education far surpassing the average level of this world.
His educational experience taught him that if severe policies, such as hanging for theft, are introduced in a place with low living standards and morals, only two outcomes would occur.
The ruler's military force is insufficient, the ruler perishes.
The ruler's military force is strong enough, and soon the land will have no roosters crowing for miles. After all, humans not only can be killed but can also flee.
The lord who ruled Velen had held his position for decades without trouble, he wasn't foolish.
If Lann guessed correctly, the cause of death of those two hanging fellows was essentially no different from Bordeaux.
They just had the misfortune to collide with the double-wheeled chariot race.
In this world, the value of human life is determined by status and is manifested... very blatantly.
Blatant to the extent that Lann had never quite adapted to it.
Mentos detected that Lann's elevated [happiness index] along the journey was now steadily landing.
Thus, at an opportune moment, after the discussion about "music" and remaining silent, Mentos once again queried its master now.
The gently neutral intelligent voice echoed in his brain.
"So, even after confirming once more the harshness of this world..."
"Do you still intend to continue with your plans?"