Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

William followed suit and followed the figure leading the way to the entrance of the cave.

New soil and rock spread out from beneath their feet, fanning out to the base of the mountain. The rocks and road sections at the entrance of the cave disappeared, replaced by a broken slope. The soil was first squeezed into a denser texture than any road, and then collapsed under the huge weight, collapsing along the mountain.

The earth and rocks are pouring, and small streams of quicksand are still pouring down among the rocks, forming an earth-yellow waterfall. The small mineral crystals in it reflect the light of the frosty daylight, shining with a hard beauty.

Craft stepped into the moonlight and was bathed in the clear white. The floating dust settled around him, like clouds and mist lifting him up the crystal-paved stairs.

His blond hair was gilded with silver, and the sword still showed traces of fighting against evil things. He suddenly seemed like an inhuman thing descending to earth, promising to lead the believers of the gods to open up a road from hell to the world.

Perhaps it was a psychological effect, but in his dizziness, William felt a temperament he had never seen before, flashing across the back in front of him. The familiar Kraft at that moment became someone else, with an indescribable sense of strangeness.

Although it has no wings, if an uninformed person were to imagine it, they would probably recognize it as an angel or something higher, contained within a human body.

The strange and uncomfortable feeling passed by in a flash, but he did not float up or grow a halo. In a burst of wailing, he was like a puppet with its strings cut, all power was taken away, and he fell straight to the ground.

The captain pulled back his shoulder in time, put a hand on his shoulder, and supported half of Kraft's body. "Hey, don't break your nose on the last stretch."

Unlike many people who are exhausted, Kraft is trying his best to keep his eyes open, as if to take in more sights, breathing hard despite the flying dust, and sniffing the scent in the air.

In a state of extreme exhaustion, he shows a morbid desire to understand the surrounding environment, like a person being strangled by the neck, instinctively expanding his chest to inhale, but the air he takes in is never able to meet his needs. William guessed that this was some serious sequelae of "witchcraft". After repeated use and a round of bursts, it reached its limit just like physical exhaustion.

"How about it, can you still take two steps? I could have carried you five years ago, but not now."

"It sucks." Kraft swayed drunkenly for a while, found a way to reconcile the sense of balance and the feedback from his feet, stepped on the ground, and relieved some of William's burden, "Let's go, I'm not sure if those faces can chase Here, if you don’t have the ability to support me and fight them, you’d better walk faster.”

Although the original mountain road was not found again, the collapsed earth made the slope of the first half of the road gentler.

After walking hard for about half an hour, Kraft finally regained his ability to move independently. For him, what was more serious was the mental exhaustion. He still had some physical strength, but in the second half of the way he had to help William, who was shivering as he went downhill.

After passing through the noisy villagers, they came to the only house with light. The corpse leaning at the door made the two people's expressions quickly become solemn.

"Coop, Yvonne!?"

Kraft drew his sword and rushed into the house, mentally prepared for the pagans to take hostages and even for those left behind to die without seeing their bodies.

He didn't think too much about the possible conflicts. Someone who has not killed anyone yet but has rich experience in fighting to the death is confident that even without the aid of mental senses, a few villagers without the cooperation of crossbows and arrows cannot defeat him.

If anyone is going to use the standards of Kupp or William's sailors to speculate on the level of professionals, then he doesn't mind giving them an expensive practical lesson.

"Um...Peter?"

The scene inside was, as expected, a mess. The overturned table, burnt marks of lamp oil all over the ground, and a few bloodstains at the door. The packages were scattered as if they had been robbed, and the contents were hastily sorted and piled together.

Unexpectedly, the only person lying on the ground was the local guide, and his waist was wrapped with a bandage of cotton that was definitely below the passing line.

Coop hid behind the door. After seeing clearly who was pointing the sword at him, he put down the hammer and said, "Mr. Craft, it'll be good if you come back. It'll be good if you come back..."

"Next time you hide, remember not to backlight." Commenting on the failure of this ambush, Kraft put away his sword and looked to the other side of the door. A small figure was putting his hand behind his back, "Where are you? You took it again. What is that? I don’t recall ever teaching little Kupra girls to engage in combat.”

He held out his hand, and Yvonne handed over, albeit reluctantly, what she was trying to hide.

A rusty dagger, not the kind of shapeless knife made by a novice blacksmith. It was born to be distinguished from the same kind used for cutting debris. It has double blades and a sharp point, and it looks very suitable for stabbing.

It is rare to see it here, and it is considered a valuable item, but it has not been well maintained. Unless its previous owner was mentally ill, that shouldn't be the case.

"Your trophy? I have to say, Coop, your first actual combat performance was very good. I'm sure my grandfather will like you."

Old Wood would never support Kraft himself in participating in any battles outside of training, but he liked the young men who dared to stretch their muscles with real swords on the castle training ground, even if they had one leg to win most of the time.

As time goes by, fewer and fewer people dare to do this. Maybe bringing Kupp back one day can fill this gap.

"My trophy," Yvonne corrected, waiting eagerly for Kraft to hand the dagger back to her.

"Oh?" Kraft held the blade and held out the wooden handle. He found that there was something sticky in his hand, which was half-dried blood on the rust spots.

"Indeed, I couldn't have done this alone without Yvonne's help." Kupp deeply regretted that he was not sure what level he should achieve and whether this matter would lower Kraft's evaluation. But there is room for defence.

"But I promise, there is a reason. The guy holding this dagger is very weird. The smell on his body reminds me of... the time you helped me treat a disease." He recalled the smell, but couldn't think of anything. An accurate adjective can only refer to an experience that only two people can understand.

When Coop saw William following him, he didn't know whether to talk directly about the ghostly behavior of disappearing and reappearing. He decided to talk to Kraft privately, "I think you will want to see that guy. In addition, we used Got some of the captain's liquor to cleanse the wound."

Kraft nodded and raised his evaluation of Coop to a higher level, "I understand, you did a good job. This is not urgent. Let's take a look at your and Peter's wounds first."

It sounded like the wounds on their bodies came from Yvonne's "trophies", and the rust covered them looked like a good place for deadly bacteria to breed. For open wounds, it is better to open and disinfect them as early as possible rather than a few days later. Explain the dangers of Clostridium tetanus infection with examples.

"Can you..." Coop subconsciously covered the wound. When he thought of the pain that was comparable to rubbing salt, he didn't want to experience it a second time.

"No. Clean the wound now, and I will take care of your life and death; clean it up in a few days, and God will take care of your life and death." Wound cleaning and dressing change is a technical job, and you should never believe that a newbie will do it properly when he completes it on his own. What's more, the wound is still on himself.

Curiosity made Kraft want to see why the deep breath appeared on the pagans, but this must be done after he patiently examined the wounds.

Inviting William to hold Coop down together, he carefully used the tweezers in the tool box to remove small rust flakes, dirt and blood scabs one by one, and used up half a bottle of spirits.

As for Peter, who was still unconscious, the knife in his lower back was stabbed too deep. After cleaning the superficial wound under the current conditions, there was nothing he could do. Since there were no obvious symptoms of shock and no lumps or hematoma were touched, the renal arteries and veins should not have been injured. , depending on the location, it won’t be close to the epigastric aorta or other large blood vessels.

However, items such as kidney and ureteral injuries were beyond his power and difficult to detect. His evaluation was highly consistent with Coop's: If he hadn't died, he might have survived.

After doing all this, Kraft washed his hands, came to the rickety man who was dragged outside the door, and lifted his hood.

The sunken face made it difficult to loosen the bandage on the face, so it had to be slowly removed circle by circle. What is puzzling is that there are many more hard objects rubbing under the cloth than expected, and the number and volume are not like the facial bones in the impression.

Western Fantasy, Low Demon Σ() I like Low Demon. Such serious Western Fantasy is so rare these days. I give it a thumbs up.