"Ah, I'm exhausted! Being illiterate is truly terrible—so much effort for nothing!" Ryan finally returned to his home, dropping the wooden box heavily onto the ground before collapsing onto a bed layered with thick, dry grass. Gasping for breath, he muttered his complaints. Now, the house actually looked somewhat livable, with a cleanly swept floor, a bed covered in thick dry grass, a large wooden barrel filled with fresh water, and a suspended iron pot with fire embers still smoldering beneath. Thick grass curtains hung on the stone walls, making the place seem more like a proper dwelling.
"Alright, let's see if there's anything good in this box. If there are pictures, that'll make things easier." After resting for a while, Ryan sat up and took a big gulp of water from a wooden ladle. The water had been boiled, as Ryan was particularly cautious about hygiene, knowing how dangerous diarrhea could be in such primitive conditions.
He stoked the embers in the firepit, adding a few sticks of firewood. The wood here burned slowly, lasting through the night with only a few logs, functioning like makeshift candles. Since it was already dusk, the dimly lit room was hard to see in otherwise. Pulling the box closer, Ryan plopped onto a wooden stump by the firepit and began examining his haul.
The first thing Ryan grabbed was the so-called magic book that looked identical to the one already in his possession. After staring at it for a while, he still couldn't make sense of it. Over the next half hour, he turned the box upside down and finally found two books with illustrations. One had both text and images, while the other was purely pictorial.
"What is this? Blurry and weird, with things that have tails? Junk!" Ryan tossed the purely pictorial book aside in disdain. It turned out to be a so-called book of life and art. However, the sketches inside made Ryan's head hurt. He sneered inwardly, thinking, "Not even as good as what I can draw, and with so few poses to boot."
After all, once someone has seen high-definition, 360-degree real-life content on the internet, who would still be interested in this? Only someone with issues.
"Wait a second." Ryan paused, then picked up the discarded book again. He rubbed the cover thoughtfully, and a look of excitement gradually appeared on his face.
"Hmm, if I ever run out of options, I could draw stuff like this. Look at how worn the leather cover is—there's clearly a market for it. Hmm, maybe I could start an otherworldly erotic series, with both text and illustrations. Hmm, this is a serious matter," Ryan muttered, placing the book on his lap as he drifted into endless fantasies.
"Of course, to draw things like this, I'd need to learn how to read. Otherwise, I might accidentally sign away my freedom in a contract. Hmm, once I survive this winter, I'll leave this place and find somewhere better. If one place won't take me, another will. With my tenth-place ranking in art, I can definitely earn some gold coins. Plus, I have all the knowledge in my head." Ryan envisioned a golden path ahead of him. (For context, his tenth-place ranking was out of a ten-person amateur art class. However, if it came to knowledge, he could rattle off the names of dozens of famous Japanese actors without pause.)
The other book didn't disappoint Ryan. It was indeed a book with both text and illustrations, even including maps. However, the creatures depicted inside were unlike anything Ryan had ever seen before. For example, the first page featured a creature with long ears. Was it a rabbit? But this rabbit had fangs. Ryan had seen rabbits on this mountain before—they were larger than those on Earth—but fangs and long ears? And the fur of this rabbit was blue, leaving Ryan baffled.
"Damn it! At least I've seen rabbits in the mountains—gray ones, though. Otherwise, I'd seriously doubt this was supposed to be a rabbit." As Ryan flipped through the pages, the illustrations grew stranger: winged horses, horned serpents, and even a tree with a giant human face.
"What on earth is this? Uh, could it be a book about magical beasts? Yes, that must be it. If there's magic, there must be magical beasts too. No wonder it all looks so strange." A grumbling sound from his stomach abruptly pulled Ryan out of his moment of delight. Carefully, he stashed the presumed magical beasts' tome, the six gold coins, and the two suspected magic books away.
"Tonight's dinner is mushroom and fish soup with eggs, yay!" Ryan cheerfully prepared his meal while fantasizing about the delicious eggs. Though he had been on the mountain for several months, it wasn't easy to find eggs. For one, it was autumn, and birds were no longer laying eggs. Additionally, Ryan didn't dare venture too deep into the forest, as the dense trees gave it a spooky atmosphere. Having already experienced death once, Ryan was particularly cautious about preserving his life. Safety first, always.
Thud! Ryan stared curiously at the egg in his hand. Just now, after tossing the fish, mushrooms, and salt into the pot, he had eagerly cracked open an egg into a wooden bowl to check its freshness. But when the egg struck the bowl, it didn't crack—only the bowl was knocked far away.
"Magical beast eggs are this tough?" Ryan muttered, puzzled. He picked up the bowl and tried again.
Thud! This time, the bowl shattered, but the egg remained intact.
"Argh! I'll just boil you directly!" Frustrated to the brink of madness, Ryan resorted to throwing the egg into the pot, hoping to cook it thoroughly before eating. However, he failed to consider that if the egg couldn't be cracked raw, it was unlikely to break when cooked.
"Argh, you cursed egg!" Ryan glared at the egg in exasperation after more than an hour of boiling. He had tried every method imaginable to break it, including smashing it with a massive rock, but to no avail.
"Get up, Ryan!" Ryan was startled awake by a voice. Drowsily, he opened his eyes to find Holman standing before him with a cheerful expression. He quickly got up.
Holman had brought Tory along to inspect the stables early that morning. Seeing the healthy, well-fed horses, the new foals, and the sizable haystack, both men felt reassured. When they arrived at Ryan's residence near noon, they found his place surprisingly tidy. The sight of the worn, illustrated book lying on the ground amused Holman.
"We've brought workers to repair the stables and check on your work. You've done well." Holman, in his authoritative tone, gave an approving nod. Meanwhile, Tory had already gone to inspect the horses. A former servant of the knightly lord, Tory had accompanied him into battle and developed a special fondness for horses.
"Thank you for the praise, Master Holman. It's all thanks to your excellent management," Ryan replied, suppressing his revulsion at the flattery.
"Looks like Ryan is growing up." Though Ryan was technically a slave, Holman treated everyone with a smiling demeanor to prevent behind-the-scenes scheming. However, coupled with his somewhat lecherous appearance, his smile looked rather peculiar.
"Not bad, Ryan. Come spring, you'll undergo the guard test. If you pass, you'll train for a while before officially joining the guards. If luck is on your side, you might even get to serve the lord directly." Tory came over, laughing heartily. He clapped Ryan on the shoulder with enough force to almost knock him over. As the person in charge of selecting promising recruits, Tory viewed Ryan's potential with optimism.
"Thank you, Master Tory." This time, Ryan's gratitude was sincere. The chance to leave the mountain legitimately was too enticing for him to pass up.
"Keep it up. We've brought three months' worth of food, salt, and a few sets of clothes. Since winter roads are treacherous, we're giving you everything at once. There are also some iron nails and tools. Make sure the stables don't collapse under heavy snow," Holman instructed before he and Tory left. With dozens of workers aiding in reinforcing the stables, the repairs were completed within an hour.
"Still time left—I'll take a walk in the forest." Watching their figures disappear into the distance, Ryan felt fully immersed in his new identity. Gazing at the leafless forest, he decided to explore.
Stepping through layers of fallen leaves, Ryan carefully sought dried vines. Beneath these vines, he often found snow yams—large, sweet, potato-like tubers. Sugar was a luxury in this world, making these yams particularly delightful. Ryan also spotted several enormous beehives nestled in hollow trees or on the ground, noting to harvest them after snowfall.
"Great luck, another batch!" Ryan nearly shouted in excitement upon finding more vines, knowing the sweet yams beneath could weigh tens of pounds.
Rustle, rustle…thud! Suddenly, the sound of rustling leaves filled the air. Ryan saw a rabbit, as large as a lamb, knock itself unconscious by ramming into a tree.
"Wow, this is my lucky day!" Ryan quickly pulled out his sickle for self-defense. Though he was desperate for meat, safety came first. A rabbit that size could inflict serious harm with a bite.
"Excuse me, who are you?" A voice startled Ryan mid-celebration.
"Ah! I'm Terry's stablekeeper. And you are?" Ryan turned to find a simple-looking hunter, prompting him to bluff with authority.
"I'm from Curry Village. Came to hunt for some food for the new year." The elderly hunter eyed the rabbit in Ryan's hand as he spoke.
"Why are you out hunting at your age? Where's your son?" Ryan asked, noting the hunter's advanced years.
"They're all gone. Only my seven-year-old grandson is left. With no food, I had no choice but to try my luck," the hunter replied, his tone devoid of sorrow, as if numb to his fate.
"Sigh. Take it home," Ryan said generously, moved by the old man's plight. He noticed a bloodstain on the rabbit's hindquarters and handed it over.
"Thank you, sir, thank you!" The old man nearly fell to his knees in gratitude.
"Wait a moment." Ryan quickly unearthed a large portion of the yams he had found, giving most of them to the hunter.
"Thank you! These yams are such a blessing!" The old man expressed his heartfelt thanks before leaving with his spoils.
"By the way, sir, are you new to the stables? Be careful not to go beyond the treeless area up ahead. People say it's haunted. Decades ago, the forest there vanished overnight after what sounded like a thunderstorm, leaving only scorched rocks." With this warning, the old man departed.
Ryan had been battling his inner turmoil, debating whether to take back the rabbit if the old man returned it. But the unexpected advice gave him pause.
Ryan spent the rest of the day futilely attempting to crack open the mysterious egg. Even iron nails couldn't breach it. Frustrated, he decided to sleep and resolved to explore the haunted area the next day.