Alchemy Principles of Type-Moon World

Lion Jie Li's voice was unusually muffled within the crypt. He raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. The surrounding walls were covered in a layer of damp moss, which was quite abnormal. For a crypt used to preserve corpses, the humidity was far too high. The air was filled with the smell of decay, as if every breath could be felt with a damp chill.

"So they chose burial, a method that preserves their bodies as intact as possible," Lion Jie Jie Li continued. "Early Christians didn't have the money to buy cemeteries, and burials take up a lot of land. So, the church often funded the purchase of a plot of land and dug continuously downwards along the ground. Once a certain amount of space was dug out, they would carve niches around the walls to bury the deceased."

"Christians generally called it 'kató kuluμβ??,' meaning 'near the cave' or 'under the cave,' but now they call it the catacombs." Lion Jiejieli's voice echoed in the catacombs. "These Christians often despised the Romans' despair of death. They called the cemetery 'kaoiμηtóρiον,' meaning 'the place of sleep.'"

"If we believe that Jesus died and rose again, then God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus (4 Thessalonians 14:)," Xing Qingqi continued. "If you think about it this way, it's hard to even define these people as dead."

"How come you can quote a Bible quote right away? Are you from the Holy Church?" Lion Jie Jie Li suddenly felt a little nervous.

"Like I said, I used to be a volunteer in the church." Xing Qingyu smiled.

"Ha, the church you're talking about isn't the Holy Church?" Lion Jie Jie Li jokingly asked, "Your so-called volunteer work isn't about assisting the church's agents, is it?"

"Who knows?"

Lion Jie Jie Li shook his head, turned around and pushed open the lid of a sarcophagus. The sarcophagus made a dull sound, stirring up the surrounding dust and the smell of decay, revealing the corpse inside.

"Wait, the resentment doesn't come from the bodies here."

"Because this is just one of the 'key nodes.'" Xing Qingqiu stroked the damp wall, his fingers sliding through the moss, feeling the cold moisture. "Although this isn't the source of resentment, it's underground, and it's a crypt—"

"—Its function is to serve as a path for the flow of resentment." Xing Qingqiu quickly found a small bump and, after picking it out of the wall, discovered it was a finger bone. "Ha, found it! Do you guys really enjoy using human fingers as materials for your spells?"

The finger bones seemed particularly cold in his hands, as if they still carried the resentment of the deceased.

"Well, now that we've confirmed this, things will be easy." Xing Qingfu stuffed the finger bone back in. "Let's go. Remember to push all the coffin lids back. The bodies here are fine largely because they're isolated by the stone coffins. We'll come back later to deal with the resentment here."

"Now, go to Westminster Abbey. I'm sure the fellow will be there."

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The Hamiltonian path problem involves finding a path in a graph that passes through each vertex exactly once. This path is called a Hamiltonian path. If the path starts and ends at the same vertex, it is called a Hamiltonian circuit or Hamiltonian cycle.

This is the opposite of the one-stroke drawing problem, or the Euler path problem. It involves finding a path in a graph that passes through every edge exactly once. This path is called an Euler path. If the path starts and ends at the same vertex, it is called an Euler circuit or Euler cycle.

Simply put, the Hamiltonian path requires passing through each vertex once, while the one-stroke problem requires passing through each edge once.

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I was seriously injured and fell down while practicing questions today, which caused me to start writing a little late and the update was a little slow. I'm sorry.

It's the end of the month, if you still have spare tickets, why not vote?

And please give me feedback and comments, thank you!

Interlude: Who dug up the graves of the British royal family? : 7. I believe in his ability, but I believe even more in his stupidity

"By the way, have you checked the sewers?" Xing Qingfeng, sitting in the passenger seat, suddenly turned and asked, "You said this ritual is to concentrate the resentment of the deceased and instill it into the underground drainage system, but have you checked it?"

"I lifted the manhole cover and took a look," Lion Jiejieli replied as he drove. The London streets were shrouded in darkness, and only the sound of wheels rolling over the road echoed. "It's confirmed to be spoiled, so I didn't dare go down alone."

"What do you mean? Is there anything unusual?" Xing Qingfu frowned, obviously quite concerned about the situation.

"I could feel the dead air the moment I opened the manhole cover," Lion Jie Li said in a low voice. "In a functioning city, the drainage system is cleaned regularly. I looked through the records of Thames Water Company, and they last cleaned the sewer system only four months ago. But when I opened the manhole cover on the main road—"

"—The stench almost made me vomit my breakfast," Lion Jiejieli replied with disgust. "I guess it's because the concept of filth in the sewer has been emphasized, or maybe it's simply because the dead air is too strong, and everything in there has become moldy."

The car sped along the quiet night road, the streetlights on both sides emitting a dim light, illuminating the wet road surface. The atmosphere in the car became increasingly tense. Xing Qingfeng was silent for a while, as if thinking about something.

"Well... although we've already got the results, I still want to confirm it." Xing Qingfeng said, "Do you have a map of the sewer?"

"It's under the seat, you can look for it." Lion Jie Li replied, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Xing Qingfeng lowered his head and rummaged under the car seat. His fingers fumbled for a moment, touching a cold roll of paper. He carefully pulled it out, and in the dim light of the car, he saw it was a thick file. He opened the folder and flipped through a few pages until he finally found the sewer map.

"Hmm... the crypt of that small church is indeed near the drain outlet of the underground drainage system. Very good, it perfectly matches my hypothesis." Xing Qingqiu stretched lazily. "If you had endured the stench and gone in, you would have discovered that the barrier was in an unfinished state."

"You're kidding! Who would rush into a place they know is dangerous? Do you think I'm stupid?" Lion Jie Jie Li glanced at him and continued to drive attentively. "What do you mean?"

"If my guess is correct, the resentment of the deceased won't last long in the underground sewers," Xing Qingqi said. "Although according to your statement, the water in the sewers has become the River Styx, based on the current situation, if he hadn't set up a point at Westminster Abbey, then this would just be a Hamiltonian path, and the resentment of the deceased would flow directly into the Thames through the sewer system."

The car drove through a dimly lit neighborhood. The dim light from the streetlights cast a faint shimmer on the damp pavement. "I can imagine how stinky the Thames drain must be," Xing Qingfeng grumbled. "The sewers will probably be filled with the corpses of small animals that died from the dead air, plus all sorts of fermented, moldy sewage mixed with the dead air."

The two fell into a brief silence, with only the sound of the engine running echoing in their ears.

Xing Qingqiu stared at the map in his hand and broke the silence with a quip, "I'm telling you, if we leave it like this, sooner or later the Ganges will be called the Little Thames." He put away the sewer map and continued, "And if he's setting up a point near Westminster Abbey, then this point near the drain is completely unnecessary."

"Unless he's a fool, he'd still want to pull out a thread and release the death energy after completing the closed loop. The resentment of the dead in the cemetery isn't endless." Xing Qingqi smiled and said casually, "When the resentment in the cemetery is almost exhausted, he will definitely be unable to sit still. We can just wait and see."

Lion Jie Li's gaze remained focused on the road ahead, his face strikingly serious in the dim light of the car. "But if your theory is true..." he suddenly asked, "then why didn't he just set up his plan at Westminster Abbey, instead of waiting until he was at his wit's end?"

"Indeed, this doesn't make sense..." Xing Qingyu also discovered the loophole in his reasoning, and his brows furrowed again, "Is there something special about Westminster Abbey?

"Let's go to the place and check it out first." Lion Jie Jie Li said while holding the steering wheel.

"I really miss the Internet. It would be great if I could just use my mobile phone to look up information at times like this." Xing Qingwu sighed.

The car drove through the London night, the buildings on both sides looming in the light of the car lights. The moist air was mixed with the faint smell of earth. The streets were empty, and only the light from the car lights cut through the darkness.

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Moonlight filtered through the clouds, casting a silvery glow that illuminated the edge of a manhole cover on a London street. The night wind brought a hint of chill, and the street seemed unusually quiet. Suddenly, the manhole cover began to creak, the clang of metal against concrete piercing the stillness of the night. Finally, the cover was removed by someone below, revealing the dark opening.

"Oh my god... Ha... I'm finally out... Ha..." Weber panted as he climbed out of the manhole. His windbreaker had been stained a dark brown from struggling in the sewage for so long, and his face was covered in mud. He pulled himself out of the manhole with all his might, then reached out to help Sharma behind him.

Sharma emerged from the well, his body covered in thick mud, his face stained with dirty liquid, and his clothes clogged with dirty water. He pushed the manhole cover open with all his might, the iron cover scraping harshly against the ground. He fell to the ground, breathless, pale, as if he had just experienced a nightmare.

"I say... aren't you a magician sent by the Department of Spiritual Summoning?" Sharma lay on his back, completely unconcerned with his appearance. The street cobblestones looked dark and cold in the moonlight, but he no longer cared. He exhaled deeply, "Those sewers... aren't they a perfect environment for spiritual magic?"

"I..." Waver felt quite aggrieved. He squatted aside and adjusted his windbreaker. His muddy fingers brushed against the cuffs, leaving black stains. "You didn't say that helping with the case meant I had to personally beat people up, did you?"

"For something like this, you should hire a necromancy magician. Why would you ask someone from the necromancy department to do this?"

A gentle night breeze swept past, carrying away some of the heat from the sweat. The air was thick with the lingering stench of the sewers. Sharma lay on the ground, gazing at the stars in the night sky, his eyes slightly closed, the weariness evident on his face. The buildings lining the street were blurred in the dim light, with the occasional passing car, its headlights sweeping across the ground, bringing a fleeting glint of light.

"Ha...ha...I was too impatient." Sharma shook his head, tried his best to slow down his heavy breathing, and then asked, "Did you find anything?"

"The good news is, we won't have to deal with a Phantasma." Waver sat on the side of the road, a hint of relief in his tone. "I observed it briefly while running, and it turned out to be a fake."

"It's a body pieced together from the corpses of different animals," Weber continued. "However, due to the similarity of elements and environmental factors, it does possess some of Amit's properties, but it's only a semblance of reality."

"Furthermore, this barrier is definitely incomplete." Waver stared at the street in the night, frowning slightly. "If this is a complete barrier—"

"—There's no way we can escape so easily."

"Because the underworld is not complete?" Sharma continued.

"Yes," Waver nodded. "Although the sewage in the sewers has the concept of the River Styx, if we really entered the completed workshop with the concept of the underworld, it would definitely not be so easy to get out."

"Whether the living want to escape after entering the realm of the dead, or the dead want to return to the realm of the living, it is by no means easy." Waver took a deep breath and thought, "The barrier is not complete... Hmm..."

"Logically speaking, with so many cemeteries, if all the resentment was concentrated, there wouldn't be only this much."

"Sharma, remember? There are rats surviving in the sewers," Weber said. "And we haven't been affected much by the environment, which means the concentration of dead air in the sewers isn't high enough to affect the living."

"Then it proves that either the dead energy has been consumed or expelled." Weber stood up and glanced at his dirty windbreaker, his eyes filled with regret. It was his favorite piece of clothing. "The former is difficult to prove, but the latter is relatively simple to find out. Let's go to the Thames and check the composition of the water discharged from each drainage outlet."

"Before that," Sharma sighed, "Let's go change our clothes first, ah..."

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The dim glow of the street lamps cast tiny specks of light on the wet road. The shadows of the trees on either side swayed constantly in the light of the car lights. Lion Jie Li gripped the steering wheel tightly, staring intently ahead. They drove onto a wide avenue, and the buildings on both sides gradually grew taller and more magnificent. Finally, the outline of Westminster Abbey came into view. In the moonlight, the church looked particularly solemn and majestic.

Westminster Abbey's towering spire reaches into the night sky, seemingly reaching for the heavens. The Gothic architecture appears particularly majestic in the night, the stained glass in the pointed arched windows gleaming faintly in the dim light, and the exquisite carvings and reliefs on the facade are meticulously detailed. Two tall bell towers stand on either side, and in the treetops, shadowed by the bell towers, a pigeon pecks its feathers contentedly.

Lion Jie Li parked the car in front of the church and turned off the engine. The car fell into silence, with only the sound of their breathing to be heard. They got out of the car, their footsteps echoing clearly in the empty church vestibule.

"Ah, I think I understand why that guy didn't dare come here." Lion Jiejie carefully read the words on the stone tablet standing next to the church, "At least twenty British kings are buried here."

Xing Qingyu walked over, took a look at the name on the stone tablet, and couldn't help laughing. "Ha, don't tell me he's serious. If there really are more than twenty kings buried here, then would this place be so easy to get into?"

"Now that you put it that way, it seems to make sense." Lion Jie Jie Li raised his head and agreed, "From a certain perspective, the king's corpse is also a good material for performing spells."

"If that person really thinks so, ha, I'm more convinced that he will come here." Xing Qingyu smiled and shook his head. "Anyway, let's check it out first."

"Are you so sure?"

"I believe in his ability, so I chose this optimal location to wait and see." Xing Qingfeng sneered, "But I believe even more in his stupidity, so I'm sure he'll come to me on his own."

They continued walking forward, stepping onto the stone steps of the church. The heavy door slowly opened with a low creaking sound as they pushed it. The atmosphere inside the church was even more solemn and dignified. The high vaulted ceiling was covered with exquisite murals that told stories from the Bible.

"Ah, Chaucer, I've read his poetry." Lion Jiejie squatted beside a mausoleum, curiously looking at the scenes depicted on the memorial window inside. He continued to walk inside and found that the figures buried inside were more important than each other.

"And Dickens?" He stood in the center of Poets' Corner, looking at the surrounding tombs and sighing, "Although I've heard of some of them before, I didn't expect there were so many famous people buried here."

"Well, maybe they really are cenotaphs." Lion Jiejie Li shook his head, trying to suppress his inner thoughts and not test the authenticity of this cemetery. "It's simply a treasure trove of necromancers."

On the other side, Xing Qingwu was sweating profusely.

He was now in the south wing of Westminster Abbey, and before him stood a tombstone carved from black and white marble. Above it stood a statue of a man in a robe, holding a scroll, and looking down in deep thought.

The base of the tombstone is surrounded by relief carvings symbolizing wisdom and knowledge. On the right side is an owl with wings spread, representing the guardian of wisdom, while on the left is a Muse holding a lyre. The relief on the front of the base depicts an apple falling from a tree, striking a figure seated beneath it in deep thought.

At the base of the tombstone, there was a plaque. Xing Qingqi touched the plaque, which read in Latin: "Here lies Isaac Newton, who used his wisdom to reveal the properties of light, the motion of the planets, and the secrets of nature. May his soul rest in the arms of God."

"Fuck, teacher, why did you end up dreaming about this?!"

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Let's say the two lines intersect. Whether it's from the perspective of the barrier alone or the clues obtained in the sewer, they all point to the same direction in the end. I think the design here should be quite smooth, without any logical flaws, right?

Actually, Weber's final idea here comes from his idea of searching for the position of Marshal C in FZ. It can be regarded as a tribute. After all, he didn't use this trick in the book (laughs).

The above is for your reference. Please vote for feedback and comments. Thank you!

Interlude: Who dug up the graves of the British royal family? : 8. Wealth is often hidden underground

Two days later, in the afternoon, a cool autumn air permeated the Thames. A touch of chill was carried by the breeze from the river to the shore. Leaves rustled in the wind, some turning golden and drifting to the ground. The river shimmered in the sunlight, and in the distance, a few wild ducks swam leisurely on the water.

Weber and Sharma stood before an unassuming sewer drain by the Thames, ready to enter and explore. The entrance was half-hidden by an iron fence, and the mottled rust on the lock proved it had been untouched for a long time. Sharma yanked the gate open, creating a harsh, grinding sound that was particularly jarring against the silent riverbank.

Sharma, flashlight in hand, bent down and cautiously entered the drain. Weber followed closely behind, both wearing heavy waterproof boots and raincoats to protect their clothing from the mud. Compared to the sewers they had explored previously, this one was relatively clean, with only a hint of silt on the ground, the water clearer, and a faint smell of dampness in the air. While there was a hint of moss on the walls, overall it seemed much cleaner. The flashlight cast a clear reflection on the water, like a quiet stream flowing beneath their feet.

"Although the sewage discharged into the Thames is treated," Weber took out a test tube from his pocket and collected some water from the drain, "it is obvious that ordinary sewage treatment systems cannot handle the dead air mixed in the water."

Sharma could clearly see a faint black mist lingering around the sewage in the test tube. As for Weber? He couldn't see it. He would have to wait until all the wastewater was collected and processed to understand the difference in dead air concentration at each drain outlet.

"But... the concentration of dead air in the water has been getting lower and lower lately." Waver sighed, a hint of hope in his tone. "Ah, if only this matter could end inexplicably like this."

"I hope so," Sharma replied. "The grudge was drained away, making it impossible to maintain the workshop in the sewer. In the end, he worked so hard but ended up with nothing—"

"—There's no way we can stop at this point," Sharma said, "but it's also good news."

"Yeah, he must be getting close to losing his temper." Weber replied as he carefully examined the traces in the sewer. "Sigh... After checking this, there are still at least seventeen or eighteen drainage holes to check."

"And the records for all the drains aren't centralized..." Weber said helplessly. "Main drains, secondary drains... and they're divided into sewage, rainwater, and mixed water. I really hope the clues don't turn up in some overlooked drain."

"And the records of these drains are scattered throughout the municipal system's records... Ha, what a shitty civil service system," Sharma added helplessly.

The two walked along the narrow passage for about twenty minutes. The damp smell in the air grew stronger, and the sound of water echoed in their ears, becoming particularly clear. Sharma's flashlight beam flickered in the darkness, illuminating the path ahead, but apart from the occasional moss and some insignificant mud, he found nothing unusual.

"This is just like the other drains before, nothing special at all," Sharma muttered, his tone filled with frustration. His brow furrowed, a flicker of helplessness in his eyes.

Weber squatted down and took another sample of water with a test tube. After carefully examining it for a moment, he shook his head. "Same result! The concentration of dead air is so low it's practically negligible," he said, his voice filled with obvious disappointment.

The two continued searching the sewers for nearly an hour, meticulously checking every corner where the dead air might hide, but ultimately, they found nothing. Waver's expression grew increasingly gloomy, the wrinkles on his forehead and the phantom pain in his stomach betraying his exhaustion and irritability. Sweat trickled down his forehead, gleaming faintly in the dim light. He rubbed his temples vigorously, trying to ease the fatigue.

Looks like we didn't get much out of today." Weber finally stood up, dusted himself off, and sighed, his voice filled with fatigue and frustration. His shoulders slumped slightly, seeming even heavier. "Let's go back and sort through today's data to see if we can find any clues."

Sharma's expression also showed a hint of disappointment. He slowly stood up and stretched his stiff body. His legs and back ached from the long exploration, and he rubbed his stiff neck helplessly. "By the way, do you feel it's getting colder in here?" he suddenly asked, his eyes scanning the dim sewer, searching for the source of the chill.

"That's normal, after all, we've been heading deeper into the sewer from the drain..." Weber replied casually. His senses weren't as sharp as Sharma's, so he hadn't quite realized what was happening. But soon, he seemed to realize something. He walked quickly forward for a distance, then turned back and walked a distance.

"Do you have the map? Take it out first, quickly." Weber said hurriedly, "This location is about 500 meters away from the drainage outlet..."

Sharma quickly pulled a slightly yellowed old map from his pocket and handed it to Weber. Weber took the map, unfolded it under the flashlight, and examined it carefully. The lines and markings on the map were particularly blurry in the dim light, but Weber stared at it intently, trying to find useful information.

"Strange, there's nothing special around here, just a small church," Weber said, frowning, tapping his fingers lightly on the map. His brow furrowed, clearly lost in thought. "Give me the sewer map, too," Sharma said, pulling out another blue map and handing it over.

Weber unfolded the blueprint, comparing the two maps, searching for something on them with the help of his flashlight. His gaze grew increasingly focused, his finger moving across the map as he muttered to himself, "Hmm... so if the city's sewage wants to flow here, it'll have to go around halfway around the city and through the sewage treatment plant before it can flow in..."

"Remember the well we went down earlier?" Weber suddenly asked, his voice filled with a hint of urgency and excitement. "The several drainage outlets we explored before were obviously closer to the city's drainage system than this place—"

"—But the environment there isn't anything that gives off a distinct sense of death."

"Do you think there is something under the church?" Sharma asked in a low voice.

"If there's nothing under the church, we might have to hire an excavator to dig up the ground around here, or we can continue drilling into the sewers." Weber sighed, "I really want to pray to that person now, praying that we can find something useful-"

"—instead of continuing to wander around in the sewers of London like a headless chicken." Weber said with a melancholy look on his face, his eyes full of fatigue and helplessness.

"I don't like your analogy because flies and sewers go together so well."

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Weber and Sharma walked towards the small church not far away. It was not large, with verdant ivy winding its way all the way up the walls. The small garden in front of the church was filled with a variety of flowers. Although it was late autumn, a few late blooms still swayed in the breeze.

Weber reached out and pushed open the heavy wooden door, its hinges creaking softly. The air inside the church was filled with a faint scent of sandalwood. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor. The church's interior was simply decorated, with long wooden pews neatly arranged. Above the altar hung a remarkably ancient painting depicting the crucifixion of Christ, lending it a solemn and dignified air.