Krafft's Anomaly Notes

Chapter 382 Original Teaching
Dominic woke up with his head covered.

The lingering pain that had accompanied him for several days hadn't completely subsided; it wandered aimlessly in his brain like a game of hide-and-seek, and every time he tried to concentrate and locate it, he came to the same conclusion:
The headache was similar in location to the headaches that usually occur during a rhinitis attack, but deeper, in a depth that is impossible to perceive precisely, like a mudfish that is always swimming in deep water.

The newly appointed Chief Resident, Field, explained that this, like occasional mood swings, is a post-operative complication and will gradually improve over time if all goes well.

The subtext is probably that there's also the possibility of things not going smoothly.

After a few days of unease, he basically accepted the fact that he had amnesia.

During this time, the evil spirit manipulated itself to do some incomprehensible things, but thanks to the help of a devout knightly family, everything was prevented from happening before the situation became irreversible.

Then they rushed back to the monastery, seeking help from the one who was closer to the Father—the abbot.

The dean, who had proven his strength at Dunling, lived up to expectations. After a series of complex operations, he opened the head that had been corrupted by evil, removed the root of the problem, and implanted one or two pure silver beads to control it.

He is indeed getting better now; the pain may be divine power fighting against the remaining evil.

Although something always feels off, the story's logic is very clear and standard. With a little polishing, it could be used as supporting evidence in "The Biography of Saint So-and-So".

If he's lucky, and the protagonist of the surgery is indeed canonized in the future, he might make a cameo appearance in the book, and if he wants, he could even leave his skull to the religious order as a sacred relic to prove the existence of miracles.

Rounding it off, it's enough to make him famous for generations to come.

Since that treatment, he was forced to rest in the ward, forbidden from going out or reading any written materials, and even prohibited from writing or drawing.

It wasn't a big deal, just a bit boring. Even his dreams were blank, like being locked in a white house without doors or windows. He was sure that people outside were talking to him, but he could never hear them clearly and couldn't remember the pronunciation.

But today was a bit strange; he wasn't in a blank, chaotic dream, and the ward didn't seem to be arranged normally.

The doors and windows were tightly shut, and the gaps were even stuffed with strips of cloth, so that no light or sound could get through, and it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night.

Only one candle was lit in the room. Dean Kraft sat in Field's usual seat, not wearing the robes of a scholar or monk, but in clothes that were convenient for going out. He held his sword in one hand and placed the other on the hourglass, which was half-empty.

"Good day, Dominic." Seeing that Dominic had woken up, he glanced at the hourglass, his expression not serious, which reassured people.

"Don't worry, you can rest a little longer; this is also part of the treatment."

Anyone who can still fall asleep in this situation probably needs to get their head checked.

Dominic immediately snapped back to reality. His instinctive alertness made him repeatedly examine everything familiar: the bed, the table and chairs, the walls—everything was fine. Even the soup stains from yesterday's lunch were still on the bedside table.

Every detail proves that this is a hospital ward, a safe zone he has long since become accustomed to.

But there is something different.

Perhaps it was the change in lighting and atmosphere that made him somewhat irritable. A sense of unfamiliarity lingered on every surface he touched, as if the bedding and bed rails had just been pulled from ice water, causing a layer of granules to appear on his skin.

The only similar feeling I can recall is when I was seven years old and sent to a church school, standing with a large number of unfamiliar peers.

The elderly priest, in a monotone, chanting voice, recited incomprehensible, strict rules to the bewildered young child. For the first time, he vaguely sensed that all his previous life was slipping away, replaced by a cold, oppressive, and mysterious world.

And the feeling at this moment is even more intense.

Perhaps his unease was already showing on his face; Kraft noticed the patient's emotional change.

“Take a deep breath, relax, we are safe.” He placed the hourglass on the bedside table. “It will be over when this runs out.”

"What can you feel?" "I...I'm not sure." Dominic had never missed his sword so much; he desperately needed something that could provide a sense of security.

"If you feel uneasy and irritable in an unfamiliar environment, it means your feeling is correct and you are very perceptive."

Kraft remained calm, and his actions had a far greater calming effect than his words, or rather, his words had little effect at all.

"I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"

“The bad news,” Dominic said without much hesitation. It’s common knowledge that the key to these kinds of choices usually lies in the latter.

"The bad news is that the treatment only cleared the physical lesions left on your body; some of the effects that are deeply rooted in your mind still exist, and it is currently difficult to prevent a recurrence."

"It changes perception—you can simply understand it as the devil in the scriptures corrupting your mind, subtly altering your thoughts and behaviors without you even realizing it."

"In reality, it may be much more insidious and difficult to guard against than that, because the devil's temptations and lies can still be seen through and resisted, but it is something that is not on the same level as your thinking at all."

"Like a sea monster extending its tentacles from underwater to hunt defenseless ships, it's invisible on the surface, and you can't predict when or how it will strike. Even if I could cut off its claws and make repairs, it wouldn't change the outcome."

"Because the damage has already been done, and the ship is already taking on water."

Kraft aptly concluded his description of the current situation, leaving the listener some time to reflect.

Dominic, with his level of understanding, could certainly grasp the meaning, which roughly translates to "We tried our best, but objectively, we couldn't achieve it."

But he believed that all that talking wasn't just to deliver a death sentence.

Based on their previous interactions, Kraft wasn't such a boring and cruel person.

If there's really no hope for him, what awaits him should be prayers and end-of-life care, and perhaps even a guarantee of direct access to heaven.

"What about the good news?"

“The good news is there’s still a way.” Kraft glanced at the hourglass by the bedside; only a small amount of sand remained at the top, about to run out.

“In our northern region, there aren’t many people who enjoy swimming, but sometimes the captain has to temporarily add a batch of crew members and train them to become qualified sailors with basic swimming skills in a short period of time. Guess what they do?”

Dominic was a little puzzled as to why this was being brought up, but Kraft continued the story before he could ask.

"It's very simple. Just have an experienced sailor watch over him. He just kicks the boat into the water, and if it sinks, he pulls it out. Repeat this a few times, and once he gets used to it, he'll naturally be able to swim."

"What I need to do is similar: take you into the water repeatedly. You don't necessarily need to be a very skilled swimmer. As long as you can float on the water, feel what it feels like when something attacks from underwater, and be able to actively avoid it, that's fine."

"It sounds like..." not a pleasant experience.

For the sake of his own life, Dominic tentatively asked, "So when do we start swimming?"

"Actually, we've already been swimming for a while."

Kraft grabbed the hourglass and placed one hand on his shoulder.

The scene before my eyes suddenly distorted, followed by intense weightlessness. My five senses melted in my mind like hot candle wax, intertwining and blurring into incomprehensible blobs of color.

"Perfect timing, today's swimming training is over."