[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies":3,"chapter-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-352":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Notes on Kraft Anomalous Studies",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2283830,4467,"Chapter 352: The Caravan","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-352",352,"\u003Cp>“We’ve been out six days now; I wonder how things are at the manor.” Field lifted the stale tea to his lips, sipping it—the bitter, rich flavor made his tongue and gums contract.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was already the third settlement they’d visited. To seek more primitive information, they’d chosen routes far from major thoroughfares, where road conditions grew worse by the day; relentless travel and intense reading left them mentally and physically drained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The church’s administrator seemed to sense their time was tight; after serving them two cups of tea said to invigorate the spirit, he led them to the library and left them undisturbed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I hope our discoveries are interesting enough that Mr. Kraft won’t mind our failure to submit regular reports.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Compared to the possible reprimand later, he was more concerned about his companion’s health.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet that discomfort during dinner had come quickly and passed just as fast; since then, Dominic had shown no further signs of physical distress and remained in good spirits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That gave him some relief—otherwise, Field would never have allowed a sick person to wander outside; he’d have bound the man and dragged him back regardless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Mm.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dominic murmured in reply, continuing to burrow through the pages, reading the words more diligently than even the one who had proposed this trip, and surprisingly fast—he’d already piled several old books beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Field always felt his efficiency stemmed from some clear purpose, though Dominic himself couldn’t articulate what it was—he only knew what it wasn’t.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this pace, they should finish reviewing the selected transcripts before nightfall, then decide whether to turn back or press on to the next location in hopes of luck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Contrary to their speed, progress so far had been poor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It wasn’t that relevant materials were scarce. In fact, nearly all early personal records contained some mention of local primitive customs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beyond the majority that remained superficial, there were always those who attempted deeper study—through extensive field visits and independent verification, leaving behind substantial written records and hand-drawn illustrations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One particularly successful case even learned the craft of weaving spiral-shaped handicrafts before beginning missionary work, becoming better than most locals at making straw hats and simple woven baskets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet he admitted his skill still fell short of the weaver respected by the villagers. Perhaps due to innate talent, or perhaps a family’s ancestral technique—the man’s method contained elements inexplicable by pure craftsmanship alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even when he followed step by step, the final product always turned out different—even when his own work was neater. It was as if the weaver’s mind held a perfect template guiding his fingers, fixing the branches within some invisible vortex.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After countless failed attempts, he abandoned the idea of infiltrating and transforming local beliefs, and began preaching directly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one deliberately concealed anything, yet there seemed to be an invisible barrier, rendering everything like a reflection in water—clearly visible, yet utterly untouchable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All in-depth accounts ultimately yielded no novel conclusions; except for the first, which broke off just as it seemed to be gaining traction, the rest either fizzled out after a period of intense interest or ended due to the author’s insufficient ability.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the survey results recorded, contradictions abounded. Some described the object of local worship and fear as a flying creature dwelling atop the mountain, fond of circling high above to hunt prey; elsewhere, it was believed to be a giant land-fish, gliding on smooth belly scales, swallowing those who wandered into mist, leaving behind whirlpool-like patterns resembling fish feeding on water.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short, accounts varied wildly, but their common thread was always the strange vortex pattern, linked to various disappearance stories.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A collection of these tales might suffice to quiet a child’s night terrors, but using them as legitimate research material was clearly unrealistic; the mere rumor of “a former heretical cult in the parish, large in scope but unknown in object of worship” wouldn’t impress anyone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Field’s view on this was mixed. The difficulty of research and scarcity of references indicated they were entering uncharted territory—any findings might well be worthy of publication.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The downside was they might not have much time left; they must return before the manor clinic was completed, when Kraft would personally inspect the site—and both of them had to be present.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Across from him, Dominic suddenly groaned, pressing his knuckles against the bridge of his nose and sniffing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s wrong?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Nothing. Just a bit of a headache—it happened like this when I had a stuffy nose before… ah.” Dominic tried to shake his head, but the motion tugged at the pain, making him frown again. “The weather’s turned colder.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’d better pay attention—falling ill out here isn’t a joke.” Field watched his companion return to reading, and silently slowed his own pace, deciding to stay an extra day to rest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The book in his hand was relatively recent, written by a former assistant priest who had served here; it was only noticed because it was a personal journal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When this assistant priest began writing, the parish had long since moved past its early hardships; monks from the monastery came and went, expanding their influence, and each village church sent suitable successors to the monastery for training.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Any belief outside the mainstream was forced into the shadows and rapidly faded from view.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His duties were merely to assist the priest in preparing for gatherings and rituals, occasionally tending the vegetable garden, receiving passing visitors and fellow clergy, and recording daily expenditures.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was more like a work log and ledger—so dull that Field grew drowsy, yawning constantly, eager to finish it quickly and switch to something more interesting; thus, when a sudden, unfamiliar large discrepancy in income or expenditure appeared amid the scattered entries, he nearly skipped right over it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It occurred just before a harvest season, when the church suddenly withdrew from its stores a quantity of grain sufficient to feed all members for three months.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If it had been only staple grain, that wouldn’t have been strange—in lean seasons, the church often aided surrounding residents.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But they also gave away considerable amounts of meat, vegetables, and fodder, and even lent out their single horse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It didn’t look like charity—it resembled a hastily departing caravan passing through, needing not only food supplies but also draft animals.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moreover, the relationship between the two sides seemed amicable: after giving away three months’ worth of reserves, the church was left with just enough grain to last until the next harvest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, this generosity wasn’t without return—the visitors left behind a complete set of pure silver liturgical vessels: a chalice, a paten, and ornaments for the officiant’s attire—wealth far exceeding the value of what they’d received.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Field placed his finger on the page, flipped back a few pages, and found the recorded year. A rough calculation placed it roughly twenty years ago.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hmm?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Did you find something?” Dominic leaned over.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No, it’s nothing. Just… odd.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>??Thank you to CastlePeak_H’s patronage (=?Д?=)\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>?(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1164,"2026-06-20T02:15:56.940Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","3f75daf28164ad5227fe35a830131eb6ca56438a7b4d7269ddea298bc4e53814","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-353","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-351",406,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fnotes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-cover.jpg"]