Krafft's Anomaly Notes

Chapter 391 Collapse
Kup rolled around with the package, taking the opportunity to pull out the box and cover the opening action with his body.

He wasn't sure if this behavior was meaningful or just self-deception; perhaps his supposedly concealed actions were already clearly visible on the scales.

When the finger touched the arrow, the scaly creature seemed to sense something, and deliberately broke its previously unhurried attack rhythm, striking unexpectedly at a moment when no one was looking.

As a large creature that combines features of flight and crawling, it has no texture commensurate with its size, nor any posture corresponding to its movement; its form is elusive.

Its flapping wings, unlike those of birds, do not coordinate to provide lift; instead, they propel its undulating body straight forward.

Without needing to accelerate or follow logic, it simply leaps out from the blank space of thought, attacking along a predetermined trajectory, as if the assumptions in the mind automatically become its path map the moment its existence is discovered.

It wasn't that consciousness anticipated the attack, but rather that consciousness created a permitted path for it.

From the side and from the back, its outline changes constantly, presenting various disjointed postures in motion, like a picture book that has been scrambled and rebound, piecing together its different angles onto the same trajectory.

The harder you try to find the pattern, the more you will be misled by abnormal behavior, creating the illusion of alternating slowness and speed, while death is just around the corner.

Hundreds of mirrored scales unfolded before his eyes, and Cooper held his breath. He saw himself frantically dodging, raising his hammer to block, searching for clues everywhere, and taking the stone tablet to read the engraved allegory.

It is a reversal of cognition; every thought and contemplation paves the way for its arrival.

Dragons do not exist, yet they are everywhere; they are watching over every pair of eyes that seek their existence.

A counterintuitive concept crashed into his mind; he suddenly understood something, yet understood nothing at all. The incomprehensible information caused his thinking to freeze, his body to stiffen, and he couldn't even remember how to control his hands and feet.

Just before striking the scales, Yvonne suddenly sensed something and shoved him away. Her body seemed to be emptied of weight, sliding sideways to avoid the oncoming attack. Her internal organs were pulled by the inertia, almost dislodged.

A dull pain emanating from within made his stomach want to vomit, but he escaped unscathed.

Yvonne grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him up from the ground. The inability to physically contact her opponent didn't prevent her from assessing the situation from the vivid pantomime, and the sudden halt in the evasive maneuver spoke volumes.

Fortunately, Cooper had snapped out of his daze, clenched his left fist, and held the arrowhead pointed outward between his fingers.

"Is there any way?"

"uncertain."

The arrow felt about as expected, so light that it seemed like it would break with the slightest force. Perhaps due to consideration of material strength, the blade was not polished to be very sharp, but it still inevitably had many nicks.

This arrow was reused many times before finally ending up in the hands of the church, where it was carefully cast into pure silver. Whether its original purpose was to preserve or seal it away is unknown.

Despite its worn and old appearance, and even less appealing than a beginner's practice piece, its prominent presence is so strong that it cannot be ignored when held in the hand. It's as if something undeniable radiates from it, penetrating the skin and bones, and it's dazzling even without direct eye contact.

But the others didn't seem to feel it as strongly. Yvonne only glanced at it curiously before becoming wary of what was unseen.

If the arrow was so dazzling in that thing's perception, then it's no wonder they were attacked; what's strange is why it didn't take it away or destroy it.

Disgust? Fear? Or some other reason?
He would soon find out.

The scales rub against each other, the air currents swirl, and the tiny mirror-like surfaces open and close, crawling around the edges of senses and thoughts, using the folds of cognition as their hiding place.

Like a snake, it extends its forked receptors to sniff out every tiny movement of the target's consciousness.

Anyone who witnesses intracranial surgery is invariably struck by the mass of tissue riddled with grooves and folds, and Cooper was no exception. At this moment, that experience transformed into a bizarre illusion, as if something smooth and slender were reaching into the folds of his cognition, licking at fresh thoughts deep within his skin. In a terror powerful enough to drive an ordinary person mad, he gripped his weapon tightly, amazed by his own miraculous endurance.

This steel artifact once shattered the armor of infidels, and the leather grip still bears the mold left by fungi. The cold, steady metal seems to travel through the skin into the body.

Slightly loosen your grip and let it slide down to below the hammer head under gravity. Then, reverse your wrist so that the hammer handle is close to your forearm and held horizontally in front of you to protect your chest and abdomen.

As with each previous attack, that thing entered my senses and appeared in my right blind spot the next moment.

Kup stepped diagonally to avoid a direct confrontation, and most of the impact missed its mark. The remaining force landed on the defensive line formed by the hammer handle and the ulna, still forcing him back half a step.

A low, fine scraping sound, disproportionate to the force, continued unabated, causing a subtle vibration in the metal, and faint scratches intertwined into a web.

Perhaps even beings who manifest through cognition are constrained by cognition. Even so, they have not completely broken free from the shackles of inertia and are unable to turn in time during high-speed movement, while simultaneously attacking and defending against aliens as they pass by.

Aiming at roughly the right flank, Kup raised the arrow and thrust it out.

He was prepared for injury. A blunt tip might not be sharp enough to penetrate, and the reaction force could damage his hand, tear his fingers, or break his metacarpal bones, as the arrow was already unsuitable for gripping.

But the actual feedback was completely different from what I had imagined.

The arrow, almost like a needle tip, pierced the relatively tough tendon membrane. After a slight resistance and a moment of emptiness, the arrow completely disappeared into it and remained inside the thing's body.

A faint hissing sound floated in the air, slightly affecting the thing's movements, and it seemed to lose its balance for a moment.

Given that its movements are inherently difficult to judge, whether this momentary loss of balance actually occurred is debatable.

One thing was certain: the arrow had worked; it had wounded it. A flicker of excitement and hope ignited within him, only to cool faster than the blood leaving his veins.

It once again emitted a rustling sound of scales, flapping its wings, the arrowhead embedded in the wing membrane like an unusual reverse scale.

An arrow is still too small to pose a significant threat to humans. Even if it were easier to injure, it would only result in a minor injury and wouldn't have a major impact on operations.

No, it still did. It seemed to have been stimulated, its movements becoming swifter, its perception clearer, and its aggression more pronounced. Its scales twitched, the mirror's reflection shattered, and it reflected the faces of everyone around it in turn.

"Please pass on a message to my mentor, saying that the prediction was wrong and that this thing has a physical form." Kup realized that he had done all he could.

An unexpected calm settled in, and a fear rose from the depths of his being, but it wasn't intense. He even had the composure to think of Wendeng Port, and of that sea, where the most insidious and treacherous reefs and the most cunning and ferocious creatures never lacked.

The world is ultimately an ocean, and any calm on the surface is merely a fleeting illusion.

"Tell me everything that happened here truthfully, and the mentor will naturally make a judgment..."

He was about to persuade Yvonne to leave immediately, or at least take some valuable information with her. However, before he could speak, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that the latter's attention had drifted away from him.

Their gazes met at a single point.

Scaly, winged creatures meander through the air, their shadows darting through the forest.

"Is this what you mean?"

(End of this chapter)