Chapter 424: Breakthrough and New Problems (Combined)

Research in this area progressed more smoothly than expected.

At the two-and-a-half-year mark of the seventh cycle, the highest-level research facility deep within the main base issued a breakthrough announcement.

A classified meeting, attended only by Frost, Gao Jie Ming, and a handful of senior logistics-tier officials, was held within layers of protective wards.

The meeting was chaired by a sixth-rank wizard with a pale complexion but unusually excited eyes—Master Moreias, the authority in biological modification.

Floating before him was a complex three-dimensional rune model emitting a soft blue glow—the preliminary result of two and a half years of accumulated wisdom and sacrifice.

"Commander, colleagues," Moreias's voice carried the rigor of a researcher, yet betrayed a trace of exhaustion-fueled pride, "'Recall Anchor Technology Phase One,' or as we internally call it more bluntly—'Sickle-Skull Memory Resistance Implantation'—has completed preliminary theoretical validation and live-subject safety testing."

He tapped lightly, and the three-dimensional rune model disassembled, revealing its intricate cellular-level structure.

"Strictly speaking, this is not the creation of any new law technique; it is more accurately a successful case of 'biological mechanism reverse engineering and adaptive transplantation.' We analyzed the physiological basis within the Sickle-Skull's soul structure and specific pheromone glands that allow 'memory imprints' to stubbornly persist despite temporal erosion, extracting their core 'information anchoring' and 'anti-reset' mechanisms."

Gao Jie Ming sat aside, reviewing the detailed technical report pre-transmitted to his magic-net terminal.

The more he read, the greater his admiration grew for these senior wizards specializing in the fundamental alteration of life.

The report detailed how the Sickle-Skull's neural synapse structures and pheromone-coding patterns, which weakly resonate with the plane's temporal law, were surgically "grafted" into the wizard's outer soul layer and deep neural network via exquisitely precise biochemical and rune procedures.

This process involved soul surgery, gene-level micro-adjustments, and complex law-rune integration—each step perilous beyond measure, demanding unimaginable control and profound understanding of life's essence.

Gao Jie Ming asked himself: with his current knowledge reserves, he could never achieve this level in such a short time.

"Of course," Master Moreias shifted tone, his voice growing grave, "this is only Phase One. Its limitations are obvious. First, it is not non-invasive—it requires a delicate, time-consuming surgical procedure, imposing high demands on both surgeon and subject. Second, the effect… is far from ideal."

He pulled up a set of experimental data: "Based on our preliminary observations of modified volunteers, after successful activation of the implant, subjects do indeed develop a clear 'cognition' after temporal reversal—they 'know' they have just experienced a reset. But how much of the previous cycle's specific memories are retained depends entirely on the subject's own spiritual strength, soul stability, and the 'depth of significance' of those memories."

"Roughly quantified, using a first-rank wizard's average as baseline: they may vaguely retain a few of the strongest 'impression fragments'—such as scenes tied to extreme emotions like mortal fear, overwhelming joy, or shock. A coherent, detailed memory stream remains unguaranteed."

Gao Jie Ming stared at the data, and many lingering questions about the Sickle-Skulls' battlefield behavior suddenly clarified.

He understood.

Why had early Sickle-Skulls fought with near-fanatical zeal against wizard incursions?

Because they "knew" time would reset—death was not an end, merely a failed load-screen.

Under this "fearless of death" cognition, combat naturally became ferocious.

But why did their morale later fluctuate, even collapsing into widespread war-weariness and retreat?

Precisely because of this ability's flaw: memory retention prioritized the most intense emotional fragments.

For the vast majority of Sickle-Skulls with ordinary or even low spiritual strength, what was the deepest experience in every cycle when facing overwhelming wizard power and endless killing techniques?

Naturally—the ultimate terror of death itself!

Again and again, each time they "reloaded," they might forget tactical details, fail to recall wizard faces—but the branded terror of death and pain, accumulated with every cycle, grew heavier and heavier.

Initially, this fear might have been channeled into the drive to "eliminate the enemy quickly."

But when they realized no matter how hard they fought, they could never alter the outcome of being crushed by absolute wizard power, forced to relive death over and over, psychological collapse and war-weariness became inevitable.

Until… the hidden "will" behind the scenes intervened, forcibly reversing this collective mental decline.

Gao Jie Ming quietly shared his speculation with Frost beside him; the commander's eyes flickered with agreement, then slowly nodded.

This explained many contradictions in the enemy's behavioral patterns.

After listening to the logistics wizard's report, Frost posed the most critical question: "Master Moreias, given the current level of technological maturity, could this be scaled across the entire legion? Even granting soldiers only the 'cognition of cycles' would have immense tactical and morale value."

Several participating Grand Wizards exchanged quick glances.

Finally, another expert responsible for surgical implementation spoke, voice tinged with regret:

"Theoretically, it could be scaled—but practically, it holds little value, Commander."

He explained: "First, the modification surgery is complex and time-consuming. With our current manpower and equipment, standardizing the procedure for one wizard requires a full standard hour of uninterrupted work. Scaling it to the entire legion… the time cost is unbearable. Estimating current battlefield tempo, the remaining time in this cycle won't even allow us to complete one-tenth of the required modifications."

"Second—and more crucially," Master Moreias took over, "Phase One's effect is too basic. Merely 'cognizing that cycles occurred' holds limited value for frontline combat wizards. They need to carry tactical experience, enemy weaknesses, terrain changes—concrete information—into the next cycle."

"With current tech, they cannot carry any of that. Forcing mass deployment would waste precious research time and surgical resources, and risk triggering unnecessary soul damage or rejection reactions from immature implants."

He concluded: "We believe the most rational application strategy is to treat it as a 'research aid' and 'high-command safeguard.' Prioritize modification for logistics wizards and high-tier combat commanders who must coordinate the overall strategy."

"Let them cognize cycles, retain key research insights, experimental data summaries, or strategic decision logic. This will greatly ensure continuity of our research and stability of high-command."

"As for mass deployment," another sixth-rank wizard added, "we recommend postponing discussion until Phase Two and Three iterations. The ultimate goal of this technology is to develop a stable, non-invasive 'Memory Anchor Spell'—one that can be cast via a simple ritual, requiring no surgery. Only then will full-scale rollout be viable."

Frost listened, then fell into brief thought.

His gaze swept over Gao Jie Ming, then each Grand Wizard present, before making his decision.

"I agree with your professional judgment," he said calmly. "Effective immediately, initiate Phase One priority modification. Priority order: First, all logistics wizards involved in 'Cycle Essence' and related core projects. Second, all sixth-rank and above combat commanders and special tactical unit leaders. Third, based on surgical capacity and remaining time, consider modifying select fifth-rank wizards in critical positions."

He turned to Moreias: "Master, draft a detailed modification schedule and safety protocol immediately. Request any resources you need—highest authorization granted."

"Yes, Commander!" Moreias and other project leads straightened, energized.

"Gao Jie Ming, Advisor," Frost turned to Gao Jie Ming, "you are also included in Priority One. Your 'recording' ability, combined with this technology, may yield even better results."

"I understand," Gao Jie Ming nodded.

Though he himself had no need for this technology, personally experiencing it firsthand to study it more deeply was not without merit.

…

…

The meeting ended; everyone hurried off to execute new tasks.

Implementation proceeded with exceptional smoothness.

In the latter half of this cycle, all logistics wizards and high-rank wizards completed Phase One Memory Anchor modification.

And thanks to the precious time gained through aggressive early hunting, they forcibly extended the conflict into its sixth year.

Excluding the first two-and-a-half years of foundational R&D and six months of surgical modification, the remaining three full years became an undisturbed golden research period for logistics wizards.

Knowing their time was limited—and that their next "awakening" would carry forward progress—all researchers pushed their efficiency to its peak.

When the seventh cycle ended due to the Sickle-Skulls' population nearing threshold, Phase Two Memory Anchor modification had already completed its theoretical framework and most safety simulations—just one step from physical testing.

The eighth cycle brought marked changes.

Gao Jie Ming noticed wizards' coordinated combat had become far smoother.

Even without clear memory inheritance, the "key cognitions" and "strong emotional imprints" preserved by Phase One acted like invisible threads, connecting fragmented experiences across cycles.

Combined with Gao Jie Ming's exhaustive intelligence support, the entire legion's operations displayed astonishing "proficiency" and "foresight."

Research speed surged again.

Phase Two Memory Anchor technology was completed and deployed mid-cycle.

Compared to Phase One, it optimized the implant structure and reduced surgical trauma.

Most importantly, it began attempting weak associations between specific structured "knowledge packets" and soul anchor points.

This allowed subjects, after cycles, to occasionally recall certain key "conclusions" or "methods," though procedural details remained blurred.

By the late stage of the eighth cycle, a more revolutionary breakthrough arrived—Phase Three, or the "Time Anchor" wizardry model, was declared complete.

It was no longer a surgical biochemical modification, but a standardized spell learnable and self-cast by any wizard, including combatants.

Its core principle transformed the soul-bound "anchor points" from Phase Two into programmable, injectable standardized rune structures.

Wizards needed only days to master the model, then cast it upon themselves to inscribe a "memory firewall" against temporal reversal deep within their souls.

From now on, temporal reversal could no longer erase their memories.

They would enter the next cycle with full consciousness, carrying all experiences from the previous one.

When Gao Jie Ming first saw the complex wizardry model, radiating a steady silver-gray glow, floating in the public knowledge repository, he felt an indescribable sense of awe.

The wizarding civilization's capacity for learning and creation had quietly revealed its terrifying fangs.

From a foreign species' physiological mechanism, within mere cycles, they had refined and elevated it into a universal law-art usable by their own civilization.

Though this "Time Anchor Spell" was highly specialized—targeting only this plane's specific form of "temporal reversal"—the depth and universality of its understanding of time, memory, and soul interaction made it an invaluable reference for studying other time-based wizardry.

Of course, on this battlefield where every second counted, no one had leisure to expand into other time domains.

Its value, right now, was crystal clear.

The wizard legion, now possessing "Time Anchor," was fully liberated.

Ninth cycle, Tenth cycle… the nature of war transformed fundamentally.

Wizards no longer needed to carefully control their pace, fearing research interruptions.

They could now engage combat without restraint, crushing enemies with maximum brutality—because all experience, all data, all research progress would be carried intact into the next cycle.

Gao Jie Ming's workload plummeted.

He no longer needed to record every detail, nor worry about condensing vast intelligence into summaries.

The wizards themselves were now the best recorders.

He spent more time as a super-database and cross-disciplinary knowledge integrator, assisting research teams in retrieving historical data, verifying hypotheses, and proposing new interdisciplinary directions.

War became the aid to research; research's goal became singularly unified: fully decipher the origin and mechanism of this plane's temporal reversal, and locate and understand the "being behind the scenes."

Under the terrifying efficiency of countless minds focused, with time endlessly "renewable," the once-troublesome Sickle-Skull civilization had its secrets peeled away layer by layer.

Their biological traits, social structure, information networks, energy systems, interaction patterns with the plane's law…

Everything was studied down to the last detail.

Wizards even simulated partial algorithms for "temporal ripples," enabling them to predict the approximate timing of the next large-scale temporal reversal hours in advance.

Research into temporal reversal itself had reached the law level.

It was confirmed as a rule-based phenomenon operating at the entire plane's scale, triggered by the Sickle-Skulls' total population and a specific "civilizational survival anxiety index."

In this sense, temporal reversal resembled a complex emergency protocol.

Yet, once all surface mechanisms were clarified, a core bottleneck—like an insurmountable wall—blocked every researcher.

The fifteenth passage through the spatial rift.

Gao Jie Ming opened his eyes, sensing the stable fluctuation of his "Time Anchor" spell, confirming he had returned with the full memories of the fourteenth cycle.

He efficiently exchanged intelligence crystals with Frost—now more of a ritual, since both remembered everything.

Gao Jie Ming flew skillfully toward the depths of the wizard encampment.

Every wizard they encountered along the way had clear rationality and definite purpose in their eyes, no longer the initial confusion.

They nodded to each other in greeting and swiftly returned to their new tasks.

Everything proceeded in orderly fashion, with astonishing efficiency.

But Gao Jie Ming's mood, though calm, carried a lingering heaviness.

He arrived at the Central Analysis Hall, where a massive 3D projection displayed all research findings to date on this plane, on time reversal, and on the Sickle Skull Clan.

These data points were woven into an immensely complex yet strikingly clear web.

Each node of the web glowed brightly, representing problems already solved.

Only at the center of the web—the region representing the "Operator" or "Core Will"—remained blank.

"Still… no leads…" A familiar voice sounded beside him—it was Allison.

Her eyes held a trace of fatigue, not from physical exhaustion, but from the mental weariness of prolonged focus on an unsolvable problem.

Gao Jie Ming shook his head, his gaze sweeping over several other core researchers in the hall, their faces bearing similar expressions.

"We've tried every method we could think of to find traces of the 'Hidden Will'—based on individual Sickle Skull Clan members, their social networks, historical traces of pheromones, even our own large-scale soul resonance probes."

The Grand Wizard specializing in soul and consciousness sighed, pointing to the projection: "The results are uniform: no evidence of any higher-dimensional 'will entity' beyond the level of 'collective subconscious of the species.' The rules of time reversal are etched into the plane's fundamental laws, operating like a natural phenomenon."

"The Sickle Skull Clan's 'memory retention' and 'behavioral adjustment' resemble a biological instinct-driven group adaptation under this rule system, and… some non-intelligent 'rule feedback' we have yet to fully comprehend."

"But those 'regulations' that clearly violate low-level biological instincts—forcefully boosting morale, even seemingly anticipating our higher-level research movements…" Gao Jie Ming frowned tightly, "Could non-intelligent rule feedback be this 'precise' and 'targeted'?"

This was precisely the bottleneck. All phenomena could be explained by complex rules and group adaptation.

Yet certain subtle details bore traces of "intention," causing even the most elite wizards to intuitively sense a "controller" behind it all.

Yet every detection method pointed to nothingness.

"This… is truly troublesome…" Gao Jie Ming couldn't help sighing.

Fifteen cycles, decades of devoted research—nearly all surface secrets of this plane had been uncovered, yet they were stuck at the final, most critical step.

They had solved most of the puzzle, but could not find the one who posed it.

(That's all for today.)

(End of Chapter)