Chapter 311: The Church Did It Too

What is the essence of "magic"?

Kraft had once had some fragmented, unsystematic preliminary thoughts on this.

In the past, he believed all anomalous phenomena were abstract, manifestations of the deep chaos's unfathomable aspect; humanity's pitiful exploitation of them was like picking up seashells by the shore, probing the still-stable edge, with one's own limitations ensuring one could never truly understand it.

After personally experiencing how a special anomalous phenomenon is produced, his thinking progressed and deepened.

It was like early biological research: because knowledge was limited, one was often bewildered by various complex phenomena, dazzled and unable to grasp the point, eventually building a complex system out of thin air to fit the facts.

But in fact, it can be explained entirely from a mechanical perspective, directly broken down into a few simple modules:

【Central Unit, Signal, Effector】

Just as the brain commands the arm to lift, realized by three parts: the motor center, peripheral nerves, and muscles.

The effector is the part that realizes specific effects; the celestial debris currently known is the most typical example. It achieves a series of effects through oscillating waves that can only be perceived by the spirit, including manipulating biological tissue and layer shifts.

What specific effect the effector expresses can be regulated, depending on what signal the central unit provides.

The spirit plays the role of the central unit within it, being the source of regulated signals. A simple directional flick is a signal; conceptualized pain is also a signal.

But there are differences between signals. A simple directional flick of the Moon Debris can achieve the most basic layer-depth shifts, just as artificial electrical stimulation of muscles can produce basic contraction responses.

To achieve specific movements, the required signals are far more complex. Take the balance reflex as an example: when unbalanced, the body simultaneously commands abdominal and back muscles to adjust the torso posture, leg muscles to change leg force, the soles to grip the ground for a fulcrum, and the upper limbs to swing and adjust the center of gravity.

All signals are dispatched instantly, involving the whole body; examined closely, they are extremely complex. The corresponding muscle groups must contract or relax to just the right degree to form what appears to be a simple, natural balance response.

Just as the human body instinctively mobilizes muscle groups to maintain balance when unbalanced. Beings created by the Moon Debris instinctively desire to escape the present world and return to their origin; within the pain, complex signal commands arise, causing the simple ability of depth alteration to combine into complex layer tearing.

For it, this is an innate, natural reaction, similar to the human balance reflex.

But for "acquired" "pseudo-deep beings," it is different; they cannot even fully integrate the spirit, body, and Moon Debris, remaining at the level of "electrical signals trigger muscle contraction."

Just like when slipping: because there is no innate preset signal encoding, one must actively coordinate and send commands such as: slight contraction of the rectus abdominis and transverse abdominis, contraction of the erector spinae, strong contraction of the quadriceps, slight relaxation of the hamstrings...

Such complex signals basically have no possibility of being arranged and organized by oneself.

Even Kraft, with his slight insight, remained at the level of actively releasing restrictions when initiating layer traversal to achieve layer disarray within a certain range around himself, with very low controllability.

He once suspected that the heretics' research on the deep had already created a generational gap with his own; otherwise, how could someone whose mind was already not quite clear manipulate the layer to express such special, directional tearing effects?

Now it seems the matter is not so complicated; it is merely "copying homework," and passively at that.

The existence active at the lake bottom naturally has a tendency to spread its own will and attract aggregation; conceptualized pain, as the connection is established, conducts to any consciousness that comes into contact with it.

The efficiency is so high and the integration so close that it reminds one of certain viruses' transfection ability: through contact, directly introducing foreign genetic coding into the host's genome, becoming part of it, and causing cells to express traits only pathogens possess.

For ordinary spirits, it is fundamentally impossible to truly understand and effectively carry these things; it is nothing more than an unbearable pain experience and subsequent subtle psychological influence.

But for "acquired deep beings" who simultaneously possess a special spirit and have the Moon Debris embedded, the missing signal component among the three elements is completed.

The logic that follows is as simple as can be. Phenomenally speaking, as long as a person implanted with Moon Debris, whose spirit has been altered by the deep, frequently or closely contacts the existence in the lake, there is a probability of obtaining similar abilities.

Of course, obtaining and controlling are two completely different things.

Most people should lose self-control under the drive of pain, uncontrollably charging and tearing at the present world, creating those smooth, narrow, messy cut marks, and finally, amidst layer chaos, causing themselves to misalign and overlap with surrounding physical matter.

Before life ends, the consciousness, completely devoured, carves the deepest impression into the mind: continuous hexagons rising from the lakebed.

Subsequently, the embedded entity extracts biomass from the remains and constructs a new being.

A few people will inevitably survive due to luck or individual particularities, but that pain is forever recorded in the spirit.

They realize the world is narrow and crowded; the celestial body hanging high in the deep forever calls out to its part.

Just as Kraft feels now. A sense of claustrophobia and narrowness, the pain of constraint and compression follows every turning thought.

Previously, these discomforts should have faded with time after the spiritual senses disconnected; however, this time, after reaching a certain degree, they no longer lessen. Like tides that once rose and fell in order, now even the lowest point submerges the ankles.

This requires a certain willpower for him to organize complete logical thought, and makes it very difficult to cope with several gazes locked onto him.

Although he cannot see clearly, he knows from their stances that the rest of the team has already vaguely formed front and rear lines in a poised-to-attack posture against this side; they are simply unable to form a surrounding posture due to the boat's width.

As for why they did not act immediately, it is estimated that on one hand, considering he was just rescued, the high moral standards of everyone present, long taught by the Tianfu Sect, made them reluctant to act; on the other hand, they were unsure whether the professor had the ability to reproduce it once.

Within such a small range, there is absolutely no room to dodge; once conflict erupts, it likely cannot be contained, and the entire team would be annihilated here, sinking into the lake to merge with that thing.

And Kraft is no better off. He understands very well that at this distance, even with a pistol, he would not be much faster than with a sword, let alone facing multiple opponents against one.

Father Green and the monks are by no means the ragtag mob they faced before; they have the ability and psychological preparation to kill him even at the cost of a heavy price.

He must immediately devise an explanation that can persuade the other side, or at least temporarily ease relations, but given his current mental state, this is somewhat difficult.

Time is limited; based on past experience, he organized a simple train of thought. To demonstrate the safety of something, one must reflect it through several key points: a long history of use, a large number of usage cases; the examples must be information both sides recognize, and it is best to think from the other side's perspective.

Fortunately, his memory remained clear, and he promptly presented the relevant content. The chaotic mind, without much scrutiny, organized it into sentences and blurted them out:

"The Church did it too."

It felt like something was wrong; the atmosphere had eased slightly, but not in the way he had intended.

Among the crowd, one gaze was especially sharp, coming from Father Green; it was the kind of look that wanted to strangle a person but had no means to do so.