Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

"We've been out for six days, and we don't know how things are going at the manor." Field picked up the astringent tea and took a sip. The strong bitter taste made the root of his tongue and gums shrink.

This was already the third settlement they had visited. In order to find more original information, they chose to go away from the main traffic arteries. The road conditions were getting worse and worse, and the non-stop travel and reading made them physically and mentally exhausted.

The church manager seemed to have noticed that the two were pressed for time, so he made two cups of hot tea that was said to invigorate their spirits and then took them to the library without disturbing them any further.

"Hopefully our findings will be interesting enough that Mr. Kraft may not mind missing a regular report."

Compared to the possible blame afterwards, he was actually more worried about the health of his companions.

However, the discomfort during the dinner came and went quickly. During the subsequent trip, Dominic did not show any obvious physical problems and his mental state was also quite good.

This made people feel a little more at ease, otherwise Field would never let a sick person run around outside and would have tied him up and brought him back.

"Um."

Dominic responded and continued to flip through the pages, reading the words more carefully than the person who proposed the outing plan, and his speed was surprisingly not slow. There were already several old books piled up beside him.

Field always felt that the other party's efficiency came from some clear purpose. Although Dominic couldn't explain what it was, he knew what it was not.

At this rate, they should be able to finish flipping through the selected manuscripts before nightfall tonight, and then decide whether to turn back or continue to the next location to try their luck based on the content.

Contrary to the speed, the current progress is not ideal.

It's not that there is too little relevant information. In fact, almost all personal records from earlier times contain some records about local primitive folk customs.

Although most of them only study the surface, there are always people who try to study in depth. Through a large number of visits, investigations and self-research, a considerable amount of written records and hand-drawn drawings have been left behind.

One of the more successful ones even learned the technique of weaving spiral handicrafts before preaching. His skills are better than those of ordinary locals and he can make his own straw hats and simple woven baskets.

However, he also admitted that there was a gap between his craftsmanship and that of the weaver respected by the villagers. Perhaps it was due to his talent, or perhaps it was a special skill inherited from his family, but there was something in the other party's technique that was difficult to explain with pure skill.

Even if he followed the steps step by step, the final product would be completely different - even if he sometimes made it neater. It was as if he always had a perfect template in his mind to guide his fingers and fix the branches in some invisible vortex.

After countless failed attempts, he gave up his plan to blend in and convert the local beliefs and started preaching directly.

No one is deliberately hiding anything, but there seems to be an invisible barrier that makes everything like a reflection in the water, clearly visible but untouchable.

All the in-depth narratives ultimately failed to provide novel conclusions. Except for the first book which was suddenly interrupted when it seemed to be making some progress, the others either ended in vain after a period of special enthusiasm, or were ended due to the author's lack of ability.

As for the results of the visits and investigations in the records, there are many contradictions. Some people describe the object of local worship and fear as a flying creature perched on the top of the mountain, which likes to hover in the sky in search of prey; but other places believe that it is a giant land fish that slides on its smooth scales and swallows people who stray into the clouds, creating vortex-like patterns like fish sucking water to feed.

In short, there are many different versions, but the only common point is that they are always combined with the strange vortex pattern and are related to various missing stories.

Dominic, who was sitting opposite, suddenly groaned, pressed his knuckles against the base of his nose, and sniffed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just a little headache. It happens when I have a stuffy nose before...ah." Dominic wanted to shake his head, but the movement caused pain, making him frown again. "The weather is getting colder."

"You'd better be more careful. Getting sick outside is no joke." Field looked at his companion who was still reading, and secretly slowed down, preparing to stay for another day to rest.

The book in his hand was relatively recent, having come from a former deacon who had served here, and it was only noted because it was a personal note.

When this deacon began to write, the diocese was no longer in the difficult situation it had initially faced. Monks from the monasteries came and went, constantly expanding their sphere of influence, and churches in various settlements also sent suitable successors to the monasteries to study.

Any belief that is not part of the mainstream is forced into a corner and quickly fades out of sight.

His job was just to assist the priest in preparing for gatherings and sacrificial activities, occasionally tend to the vegetable garden, receive passing visitors and colleagues, and record daily expenses.

Perhaps it would be more appropriate to call it a work log and account book. Field was drowsy and yawning after reading it. He just wanted to finish flipping through it as soon as possible and switch to a more interesting one. So much so that when a large amount of income and expenditure that he had never seen before suddenly appeared among the piles of fragments, he almost jumped over it.

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It should have been around the harvest season when the church suddenly spent enough food from its inventory to supply all members for three months.

It would not be surprising if it was just staple food. After all, it is normal for the church to provide assistance to the surrounding residents during the lean period.

But they also took out a lot of meat, vegetables, and fodder, and the only horse was borrowed.

It didn't look like relief, but rather like a team that had set out in a hurry passing by. They not only needed to replenish their rations, but they also lacked animals to pull their carts.

Moreover, the relationship between the two sides seemed to be good. After three months of reserves were given out, the church itself was left with just enough surplus food to last until the next harvest.

Of course, such efforts were not without reward. The other party left behind a complete set of pure silver sacrificial utensils, including the holy grail, holy plate, and accessories for the host to wear. This wealth far exceeded the value of the materials given.

Field used his finger to hold the reading position, flipped a few pages forward, and found the year of record. A rough calculation showed that it was about twenty years ago.

"Um?"

"Did you find it?" Dominic leaned over.

"No, it's okay, it's just a little weird."

Thanks to CastlePeak_H for being the leader (=Д=)