The sound of hooves pounding the earth is anything but pleasant.
Especially when this strong and healthy warhorse carries a demon hunter weighing over one hundred and fifty kilograms and exuding killing intent.
Far from the sunny, joyful knight parade depicted by minstrels, the formidable and armored Lann is tall and sturdy.
The black warhorse beneath him stands at a shoulder height of one point six meters.
Such a combination charging along the narrow country roads of Velen almost conjures up images of War Ghosts and Ghost Knights from the terrifying tales that circulate around the countryside—Wild Hunt!
"Sir, I must remind you once again—please remain calm."
Mentos no longer engaged in idle banter at this moment.
Honestly, it would prefer Lann started humming a tune or hugging a jar of honey, feeding himself like a bear.
Fueled by rage, carrying all his gear, to face off against at least dozens of cruel cannibals... it’s too reckless!
The "reckless" here doesn’t refer to whether he can win the fight; Mentos has some confidence in both Lann and himself in this regard.
After all, they are just a bunch of criminals.
They lack the discipline, vigilance, and skills of a professional army for killing and scouting.
Their large numbers, paired with a loose organizational structure, are themselves a point of vulnerability.
As long as a good plan is made and the enemy is thoroughly scouted, even inefficient assassinations can dismantle the organization after eliminating a dozen members.
For Lann, a disbanded organization means it’s not "dozens of swords against one sword."
But rather dozens of "one sword against one sword" battles.
The adversaries have neither renowned knights nor warriors; a demon hunter isn’t likely to lose to ordinary people.
What truly worries Mentos now is Lann’s mental state.
Executing a precise plan requires a calm executor.
In the mental curve chart it devised, Lann’s emotional curve is currently very steady.
...Steadily maintaining at the peak level!
"I’m very calm, Mentos."
Lann’s stable voice interrupted the intelligent voice inside his brain; he reiterated once more.
"I am very calm now."
The bio-intellect has only the authority to guide and remind, but not to decide.
Furthermore, with Lann’s advancement in educational authority towards becoming an erudite adult member of the Human Union, its role as a learning assistant device will further be ceded to Lann.
It has already performed the duties of a bio-intellect; the rest is to follow orders.
The sea breeze brought in clouds from the sky, and the air began to carry an earthy scent.
Velen is going to rain again.
Relying on the demon hunter’s body with its superior endurance, Lann’s continuous ride was only limited by Bopai’s recovery speed.
Typically, riding from Auridon to the region of Condell mentioned by Willis takes two to three days.
Yet Lann and the nearly breathless Bopai spent just less than a full day to reach the target.
The golden forty-eight hours for rescuing lost children felt like a noose of execution tightening in Lann’s heart.
And with every passing moment, this "noose" kept tightening!
Lann was anxious, but he also desperately controlled his urgent mindset.
If anxiety were useful, the world wouldn’t have so many nonsensical happenings.
Lann pulled the reins on horseback, slowing down the near-exhausted warhorse.
He gently patted Bopai’s side, feeding it a carrot while keenly scanning his surroundings.
"Coastal, hilly terrain... hmm, just around here."
This feature can be summarized as a small hill protruding from the seabed above the sea surface.
Upon connecting with the mainland, it became categorized as hilly terrain—a small village with only a few households established at the highest point on the mountaintop.
The village is Condell, reportedly conducive to flower planting due to the soil and climate; hence, its primary economic source is various flowers.
Even from afar, Lann could see the large patches of vibrant colors on the slopes.
The elevation difference between the village and the horizon is roughly fifty meters.
Fifty meters doesn’t sound like much.
Yet the marvel of geology and topography is undeniable—in this fifty-meter span are valleys, gullies, ravines, and streams... the complex terrain harbors many secrets.
Forget dozens to hundreds of people; even thousands scattered across this land could conceal themselves.
Willis’s dying guidance ends here.
Because the area is indeed poor and remote, with too many mountaintops to count.
Local inhabitants are not inclined to name each one.
Therefore, Willis mentioned their encampment was "near Condell," a vague statement.
Even they themselves don’t know the name of the valley they are in.
"No wonder a group of wandering cannibals camped here."
Lann’s eyes slightly narrowed as he dismounted and led Bopai forward.
The general direction is correct; whether he can find them now depends on his skills.
Fortunately, both Lann and Mentos have some confidence in their abilities.
With a slight tilt of his head, Lann deeply inhaled the air filled with the sea’s scent due to its proximity.
The extraordinary sensory system of the demon hunter began to operate, making the world twist and become colorful in his eyes.
"Sea smell, earthy smell, feces... it’s from beasts, not humans, nor horses or hunting dogs. Stay calm, focus!"
This non-specific scent detection will yield lots of chaotic, useless information.
Despite his inner anxiety, Lann managed to discern each trace under astonishing emotional control.
"The scent of firewood?"
His slightly luminous cat eyes abruptly widened.
Condell is the only settlement of humanity here on the surface; they live atop the mountain, and the scent of cooking doesn’t reach here.
Velen recently had showers but no thunderstorms, hence unlikely caused by lightning.
Someone is living outdoors.
This is the only answer!
Lann guided Bopai forward, following the scent he detected.
This excellent warhorse wouldn’t be able to run shortly; besides, he needed to replenish the long ride’s consumed stamina while walking.
The demon hunter’s resilience is good, his stamina recovers quickly. Yet Lann didn’t want to confront unknown opponents with half strength.
The hooves made "clatter clatter" sounds, and the loosely placed miscellaneous items in the saddlebag shuffled along.
Soon, the young demon hunter stepped into a makeshift camp with a traveler-like demeanor.
Calling it a camp is a stretch—it was merely a tarpaulin propped up by several wooden sticks, with a few storage boxes and packages inside.
A fire pit was set in the vacant space in front of the tarp.
Lann’s brows furrowed, then relaxed.
This wasn’t the cannibals’ camp; although they pitched the tent inconspicuously, it was more for wind protection than evading humans.
But given the current situation, even an additional inquiry is beneficial.
Lann didn’t pause his steps and walked directly toward the small camp.