Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

"I'm here mainly for two things." Brother Raymond pinched his nose, trying to block out the strange smells that were everywhere in the air, but their presence was too strong.

The strong smell of alcohol, the sour and bitter smell of plants, and the smoky smell of burning oil and paper mixed together made him feel like he was soaked in some weird bottle of medicinal wine and was about to be pickled.

It's hard to imagine how a normal person could have persisted here for two days, and there's no sign of it ending yet.

As he spoke, the instigator, who had led the patrol team around most of the monastery last night, was still busy filtering the light green liquid soaked in swollen bark into another container.

"First of all, I want you to know that last night's events have had some unpleasant consequences. Normally, an abbot would not fail to appear for morning prayers for several days in a row without a reason.

"Nor should he have run down the corridor in the dark in the middle of the night and broken the bolt that had just been repaired. I have to admit, that skill was... incredible, the accuracy and strength, I can't imagine how he did it.

"But compared to this, I'd rather know what personal grudges you have with the bookshelves that necessitated you resorting to 'that method'."

Although I had seen it once in Dunling, it was a different experience to see the traces of power up close. The wood parting refreshed my understanding of the word smooth, without any burrs or signs of stress. When I touched the perfect cut surface, I felt a chill like a thorn in my back.

If there had been some tactless intruder there at the time, the scene would have been quite terrifying.

"I'm very sorry, I'll explain this later. The situation is a bit complicated and I can't explain it clearly in a short time." Kraft shook the bottle, hesitated for a long time, and filtered the liquid again. This time it was much clearer.

"In fact, I don't know what happened to me."

"Can it be understood as something extremely dangerous?"

"It's hard to say. So far, it doesn't seem to be showing obvious aggression, at least it doesn't seem to be jumping out to bite me."

The attraction of the liquid in the bottle seemed no less than that of unnatural forces, at least in Kraft's eyes.

He skillfully divided three equal amounts from a large reagent bottle, added the bark extract and stirred evenly.

Then he began to draw circles in front of his body, his well-coordinated body function making his movements very standard. As if he was afraid that one time was not enough, he drew a few more circles, which looked out of place.

But we can see that his attitude is quite good, probably he has something to ask of Heavenly Father.

"What are you doing?"

"Pray." Kraft glanced at Raymond in surprise, as if he was not the one who was surprised, but the one who asked the question. "May God bless His loyal Knight Commander to have a smooth experiment and double the yield."

“…”

Raymond gave up struggling, realizing that he might never be able to correct Kraft's attitude toward faith in his lifetime.

It's not that some people have no reverence for mainstream beliefs, but that they are equally disrespectful to all types of religious beliefs.

Since taking office, the only consolation I have received is probably that the other party's young disciples are quite interested in the stories of the scriptures. Perhaps there is still hope for the next generation of the Knights Templar, and they can be guided onto the right path.

“Furthermore, this also means that we need to establish correspondence with the churches, which provide the monasteries with the information, connections and resources they need, while the monasteries provide them with protection, reputation and opportunities for further study.

"Perhaps we will learn more during the communication process, rather than waiting here for Father Green to find something and write us back. To be honest, I rarely saw him go to the library before."

"Further study, what to study?" Kraft captured the most sensitive word.

"Well, okay, we can put this aside for now." The monastery is obviously more suitable for doctors than monks at the moment, "but you should really consider my suggestion."

Raymond finally found a chair that was not occupied by clutter and sat down, prepared to not get an answer in the short term.

Kraft's mind was not on business, or his understanding of business might be a little different from Raymond's.

The busy work at hand took up too much of his thinking space, so that he could only extract a few key words from a long paragraph.

As the experiment progressed to a critical stage, the only responses left were occasional interjections such as "um" and "oh".

The viscous oily substance dripped into the yellow-green solution drop by drop, and Kraft's expression finally showed some fluctuations, with a complex ripple of expectation and worry.

People with keen eyesight can see the translucent outline of the droplets, drawing silky, smoky trails through the solution.

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You can hear a long exhalation sound, as if trying to expel all the dust that has accumulated in the lungs over the past few days.

Only then did he notice that the tracks were drawn by extremely fine white powdery particles, sinking slowly and steadily.

Kraft's already complex expression became even more exciting, with surprise, confusion, realization, and disbelief changing back and forth.

"Thanks to that thing, I get it!"

"You'd better not tell me that I had a sudden enlightenment last night." Raymond calmly accepted Kraft's behavior of thanking God knows what it was rather than thanking God.

As long as your mental state is stable, everything is fine.

"If I have to say, the key breakthrough was indeed achieved last night." Kraft's first sentence almost broke his tense nerves.

Fortunately, he realized the ambiguity in his words in time and added the second half of the sentence as quickly as possible: "I mean, thank you for wasting my time for the whole night."

"God knows why I kept heating the extract and the concentrate. The thermal stability of this stuff must be terrible."

"I was so busy looking for it last night that I didn't have time to heat it up, so I soaked it all night." The viscous liquid kept falling from the dropper in Kraft's hand. The snowflakes in the bottle became thicker and thicker, and a layer of visible sediment accumulated at the bottom.

"It's that simple. Heating during alcohol extraction will destroy the unstable extract. The correct solution should be to extend the soaking time at room temperature."

"So what are you doing?" As a complete layman, the monk did not share in any of the twists and turns and surprises.

"Um...cold medicine."

"That sounds pretty broad, not like your style."

“It’s quite broad indeed.”