[{"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-357":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},2283835,4467,"Chapter 357: Our Family Has Fallen…","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-357",357,"\u003Cp>When the first ray of dawn pierced through the gaps between strange rocks and twisted trees and struck his eyes, Field finally realized he could not catch up to Dominic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The courage that had driven him to set out on impulse had cooled faster than hot soup spilled onto snow; after narrowly escaping fractures and fatal falls multiple times, he had no choice but to slow down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only someone mad enough to be utterly reckless would dare gallop through mountain paths at midnight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The deep hoofprints embedded in the mud ahead continued to clearly mark the way, proving that Ma Pi had maintained an unbelievable speed—even through sharp, treacherous bends—with almost no reduction in pace, as if he had traveled this route countless times and knew every turn by heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If there was anything worse than a madman, it was a madman who still retained normal functional ability.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was grateful he had taken Dominic’s sword beforehand; otherwise, he would now be facing an armed madman.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Considering both of them had only training experience with weapons, he had no confidence in winning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even facing an unarmed Dominic, he had no clear plan for effectively restraining him; add to that the constraint of avoiding serious injury, and the task became even harder—so unlikely it bordered on hopeless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But turning back was never an option.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Leaving aside their years of acquaintance, the mere fact of deserting post and losing a companion made it impossible to face colleagues or superiors—it would, in the worst light, bring shame upon the academy he attended and the mentors who recommended him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To waste the rest of his life in guilt and the judgmental stares of others, to die unable to return to the Father’s embrace—just imagining that scene made Field feel that dying in the line of duty rescuing a brother of the Hospital Order would be a good ending.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides, before he left, the priest had told him this was a knightly domain with frequent traffic, a family that had worshipped the Father for generations—they should be willing to spare some manpower to help… right?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With this thought, he rounded another sharp turn, and the tree barrier thinned out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A rare gentle slope stretched along the stream valley, like moss crushed beneath the shoes of a rock giant, barely clinging to life. The coldest, darkest part of night had not yet been driven away and still lingered here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A village lay silently sprawled atop it, its low, slanting roofs covered in black stains from years of dampness, crowded onto higher ground to leave as much riverside land as possible for crops.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was no church emblem in sight, but he could see a semi-fortified building clinging to the mountainside, nearly twice as tall as the other roofs, guarding the highest point of the valley’s narrowest stretch, overlooking the entire village.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Had it not been for the occasional shadowy figures, Field might have thought he faced a mountain graveyard, burying unblest, abandoned remains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The early-rising villagers displayed a coldness fitting their environment; their eyes held little curiosity toward outsiders, offering only sparse, spiderweb-dew-laden glances before vanishing into the morning mist, leaving him unsure if they were even still watching him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Field lost the desire to speak, spurred his horse quickly along the village’s only stone-paved road, and knocked on the door of that building.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then came an unnervingly long wait, until he began wondering whether he should knock a third time or ask if the master happened to be out—when the door slowly opened just enough for a single person to pass through.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The one who opened the door was a boy dressed as a servant, his newly sprouted soft beard still dusted with bread crumbs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The monk was led to the dining table, where an elderly man and a middle-aged man, resembling the boy in features, gestured for him to sit, then silently continued sawing through the crust of bread with copper knives, producing a monotonous sound like shavings from a wood plane.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The scene left him uncertain whether it was an implicit rejection or merely an old-fashioned family’s dining custom forbidding conversation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he soon received the same food, suggesting it was the latter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The food on the plate looked anything but healthy—under Kraft’s guidance, even the monastery might have classified it as harmful. The side dish was a paste made of green crumbs, cheese, and oil.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Despite having ridden all night, Field lost his appetite after a polite attempt, avoiding the strange-tasting, oddly colored paste, moistening small pieces of bread with saliva and swallowing them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The men at the table finished eating in silence and haste; when the elder nodded, the middle-aged man on the left squeezed out a greeting as dry and hard to swallow as the food:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Greetings. We rarely have guests here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His hands rested neatly on the table; his knuckles were thickened and deformed, evidence of more than sufficient training. His nail edges were worn and cracked, the crevices stained gray-black—recent marks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Field’s peripheral vision swept between the three, guessing their relationship—unable to tell if they were three generations or an aging knight and his two sons—finally settling on the more conservative form of address.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“May the grace of the Lord ever accompany you and your domain, noble sir. I am a monk of the Hospital Knights, led here by the Lord’s guidance, and beg your pardon for this abrupt intrusion.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The elder showed no displeasure; the monk felt slightly relieved, meeting his gaze openly while secretly observing the crest on the tapestry behind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such dyed and woven tapestries were usually expensive and could not be cleaned by ordinary means; even with careful care, inevitable stains and age spots revealed long histories of use.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On a red-and-white or red-and-silver divided field, gold thread embroidered a downward-pointing sword and lance, crossed behind a monstrous beast with fanged jaws and scaled armor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The intricate, flamboyant design made Field momentarily distracted, causing him to forget to hide his involuntary surprise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had seen some things; even in Dunling, such a lavish and bold family crest was rare, and the absence of extraneous patterns formed by branching lines suggested a close connection to the original family.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Instantly, he realized his lapse in manners and quickly refocused on the table, praying he hadn’t been noticed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“In desperation, I heard of a family here, generations devoted to the Lord, and followed His guidance to your door, humbly seeking your aid.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To be honest, hoping for much was unlikely. A family guarding such a remote village clearly had no surplus manpower or wealth to spare—he hadn’t seen a single servant since entering.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this manor… no, it should be called a small fortress—far more substantial than Baron Priell’s residence, with considerable construction effort that didn’t match its outward economic condition. Perhaps they possessed vast ancestral wealth, merely living modestly?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If the Lord uses my hand to fulfill His will, it is the honor of my family. Speak plainly what you require.” The elder paused, turning to gaze at the tapestry behind him. “Though we are no longer what we once were, even our ancestors’ names forgotten by descendants, the Father still remembers the oaths we swore before His altar.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your kindness and generosity would move even the Father.” The matter had progressed too smoothly to be real; Field nearly wept with relief and quickly explained: “My friend fell into madness a few days ago and rode into the mountains. I beg you to lend me someone familiar with this land to help bring him back.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The elder’s hand froze on his beard. He turned to the middle-aged man and said firmly: “Benny, take Lucius with this monk. Go now—hurry.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Benny showed no resentment at the sudden order; he rose at once and left the table.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Follow me. Father is right—we must hurry.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1310,"2026-06-20T02:15:56.940Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","7da2d6a8c2f94e4848ad499eb7e0865b7d4584c52512e48245abac62ddedb9ac","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-358","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-356",406,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fnotes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-cover.jpg"]