He sensed an Eastern mystical essence in this place, but it was also somewhat different.
Turning back to look at where he had come from, it seemed to fade away without a trace. If he hadn't walked out from there, no one would have guessed that such a magical place existed.
He was now positioned halfway up a mountain.
Zhao Lun took out a pair of binoculars and aimed them at the distance, and with just one glance, he froze.
Surrounding him were mountains, shrouded in swirling clouds, revealing only their outlines. Below lay a small town nestled among the hills; the architecture there was quite old, resembling a medieval village.
The buildings in the town varied significantly; there were castles as well as thatched cottages, with most being brick and stone structures.
Not far from this small hill was a taller mountain, which was sparse yet adorned with large, elongated-leaved conifers, giving it a somewhat desolate appearance.
The temperature here was quite low; some areas felt nothing like summer, resembling late autumn instead, with a few yellowed leaves scattered about.
A gust of wind blew, prompting Zhao Lun to instinctively tighten his clothing. Realizing his thin summer attire offered little warmth, he pulled out a snug, modified wizard's robe that wouldn't hinder his movement.
This specialized combat outfit resembled leather armor, adorned with magical runes, comfortable yet offering a degree of protection—ordinary bullets wouldn't penetrate it.
But that wasn't the most important part; the key was that this outfit resembled the divine armor from myths, looking very cool and impressive.
After a moment's thought, he also changed into matching boots.
"Hmm, this should do."
The lightweight armor and sturdy waterproof boots kept him warm and dry, feeling quite comfortable overall.
Zhao Lun was in a good mood. Finally, he had a new toy to show off.
Leaving this spot and ascending to a higher vantage point, he set up the binoculars, adjusting the focus to get a clearer view.
This was a backward little town! Its scale was smaller than that of modern towns; calling it a town was generous—it was barely the size of a modern village.
Two prominent buildings caught his eye: a Gothic wooden church with a spire and a tall castle.
The castle was quite elaborate, with complete facilities inside, indicating it belonged to a noble, possibly one with considerable power or one that had enjoyed a glorious past.
Outside the town lay a flat expanse of farmland. With the sky growing dim, farmers were seen hurriedly gathering their simple tools, preparing to head home.
Zhao Lun observed their attire.
The medieval garb of the farmers confirmed his suspicions.
The high altitude and lower temperatures meant these busy farmers were bundled up warmly. They trudged along with their tools, hastily returning to the town.
Zhao Lun examined their farming implements; they appeared crude, familiar yet strange, looking quite primitive.
A chill wind swept by, brushing against his face, bringing with it a damp, cold sensation.
"Hmm, looks like the weather is about to change."
Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, indicating rain was imminent.
Zhao Lun descended the rocky crevices of the mountain, spotting an impenetrable forest ahead. Glancing back at the mountain he had descended, it was obscured by mist, rendering it indistinct.
As he gazed into the distance, he spotted an even taller mountain, its peak blanketed in snow, which was not visible to the naked eye.
Walking through the forest provided a completely different experience than being on the mountain. Up on the heights, visibility was clear, and the direction to move forward was obvious. In the woods, light was affected, and directions could easily become confusing; without experience, one could easily get lost.
As Zhao Lun walked, he relied on the light brain map in his mind to navigate accurately.
The light brain served as a cheat, allowing him to recreate what he saw into a virtual scene. He had already created a map based on what he saw on the mountain.
The saying "running a horse to death up a mountain" rang true; by the time Zhao Lun made his way down, it was already afternoon, and he still hadn't reached the village.
There was no clear path ahead; the ground was covered with a layer of yellowed leaves. As he navigated through the plants, he sometimes encountered dense thickets blocking his way. Unable to bypass them, he pulled out a machete, hacking away relentlessly. Eventually, he had to stow his wand and wield the machete with all his strength; it was quite a labor-intensive task.
With the light brain recording everything he saw, he kept moving forward, following the map in his mind. Even so, Zhao Lun found it quite exhausting, feeling as if his hands might wear out.
"This was a miscalculation!"
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he didn't turn back halfway. If he did, it would probably be dark by the time he returned. He had no habit of giving up midway; since he was here, he wanted to see the area up close and wouldn't allow himself to feel regret.
The mountain path was long, and as he cleared the way, he observed the trees. He collected any rare plant species he encountered along the way, storing them in his divine realm.
Suddenly, a heavy rain began to fall, pouring down rapidly.
The forest quickly became damp, and Zhao Lun was glad his robe had waterproof capabilities. He remained dry and warm, unaffected by the rain.
The downpour came swiftly and left just as quickly; within fifteen minutes, it ceased. Moreover, the rain was confined to a specific area, and upon exiting, the ahead was considerably drier.
Daylight in the mountains was shorter, and it was the same here. The darkness fell faster than he had anticipated; by five in the afternoon, the sky dimmed significantly, and the woods were shrouded in night.
"Fortunately, I'm almost at my destination."
Zhao Lun relaxed a bit, having walked for such a long time. As he emerged from the dense forest, he looked up and found he had arrived at the small town.
Upon closer inspection, Zhao Lun felt regret for his earlier dismissal; this place indeed deserved the title of a town.
Just as he was about to enter, a flurry of people burst forth from the town entrance. Torches flared to life, surrounding him in an instant.
These people wielded pitchforks and stared at him warily.
"Good evening, sir! Welcome to Transylvania!"
A long-haired man wearing a gentleman's hat approached, waving something resembling a staff, swaying as he came toward Zhao Lun.
As he welcomed him, his movements were erratic, frequently turning toward those behind him. The item he held seemed poised to become a lethal weapon at any moment, ready to strike.
It wasn't a staff but a sharp silver stake!
Surrounding him were farmers, armed with tools and watching him cautiously. However, Zhao Lun could see in their flickering eyes that they weren't as courageous as they pretended to be.
Fear! He noticed the fear reflected in their eyes!
Zhao Lun ignored them and turned his attention to the apparent leader of the group. He disliked this man's gestures; his instincts told him that this individual harbored hostility toward him, and the greatest animosity among the crowd emanated from him.
"Good evening, gentlemen. If you could put down your weapons, I believe it would be for the best!"
Zhao Lun conjured his wand, summoning a burst of flame.
*Boom!* The ground erupted, creating a large crater!
*Whoosh!*
The sudden commotion sent the group scurrying back in fright.
They stumbled over each other, some falling to the ground in shock.
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