Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

"Ah?" The priest was stunned, and the movement of withdrawing his hand stopped for a moment. Then he realized what the words meant, and he backed away trying to get away.

However, it didn't work as expected. The force that clamped his hands was as stable as cast iron and quickly twisted the joints, forcing him to turn around in pain. Then he was kicked after his legs were bent, and he knelt on the ground.

Kraft didn't give him any more time to react. He controlled his other hand and pressed it behind his back to ensure that this guy who was easily deceived into having problems had no chance to make any small moves. Before the first scream ends, the target loses the ability to move.

"Here's a rope!" Kraft suppressed the priest and gave him an elbow to keep him lying on the ground.

You really have come to the right place. The local church is always the most sensitive to paganism, because it is directly related to prestige and income. On the other hand, if there is definitely a heresy but no news comes, it means there must be something wrong with the church's functions.

Now he had an intuitive understanding of "being good at disguise". He preached on the stage so openly, but the laymen in the audience were stunned and didn't hear the problem.

Even though he was pressed to the ground, the priest still tried to raise his head and made a final struggle, "You can't treat God's servants like this! I didn't do anything that violated the law, even the lord has no right to do so!"

"Okay, then tell me about your religious status? Which seminary did you graduate from? Is there anyone who can prove your origin?" Martin pulled out a dagger and put it against his throat, and the argument immediately became quieter. " Or tell me who put you in this position."

Faced with the threat of the blade, he hesitated for a moment, looked around in fear, and prayed in a low voice with a voice as thick as paste, "No, they will kill me, and I don't want to be like that."

The commotion was so loud that some townspeople who had just left not far away turned back and stood in the garden outside the door from a distance to watch the excitement.

The attendants left two people to guard the door and closed the door of the church to isolate irrelevant people and noise. Martin grabbed the priest's collar, lifted him off the ground, and looked into the face that was so red from being strangled.

When he felt that he was about to die, Martin let go and threw him to the bench. The dagger was once again placed on the fragile side of his neck. He could clearly feel that the warm pulse of the carotid artery might lose its restraint at any time due to a small shift of this piece of cold metal. .

"Father, I believe you are not stupid. Whoever wants to kill you will usually not be faster than us."

The rapid and undulating breathing caused the surface of the skin to be scratched, and the warm liquid slid into the collar, giving the interrogator the illusion that part of his life was being lost. He tilted his head slightly with difficulty, and the blade followed closely like a close lover. Never let go of your neck.

He was so frightened that he almost cried. It only took a moment from the sermon to the prisoner, and he lost the ability to think normally, but the fear of something or some other reason still controlled him, making his trembling lips unwilling to reveal any information. .

This reaction seems to be engraved into the soul and has become a conditioned reflex logic. It is worse than the fear of ordinary death. What kind of death is more terrible?

"Ah, there is no need for this, my friend. Since the priest has been threatened, then if we give the same threat, wouldn't it be no different from the other party?"

The priest saw the younger, scholarly and elegant knight removing the dagger from his neck and said a few "fair words", but he was not forgetful enough to forget that it was this guy who started the violent attack just now.

"I have a compromise idea, you don't have to say anything." Kraft signaled Martin to calm down, pressed the priest's shoulder, and spoke slowly, "We will let the news out, just say that you have You are willing to cooperate with us in exchange for a reduced crime."

The other party seemed to understand something, and his expression quickly turned bad.

"You do nothing and we don't do anything. Then we let you out and see what happens."

"No, I..." The words had a sharper effect than a dagger, and the priest shouted.

"Of course, if you think those hidden Circle Cults firmly believe in your loyalty and you are important enough to them, that's fine." Rereading the words jokingly on faith and loyalty, Kraft saw the priest's forehead appear as he wished. sweat.

"But for now, I have to be honest, you're the only one who doesn't meet us in a corpse state. So think about it."

Opposite the priest, he sat down and waited for an answer.

This frank exchange seemed to be more touching than a simple life threat. The bald priest lowered his head and began to think. His trembling shoulders suggested that he might be entangled in fear. It was difficult not to wonder what it was.

But if the persuasion is successful, they should know soon.

"Word of what happened here will spread quickly, Father. If you were willing to tell what you know earlier, we would know how to protect you instead of continuing to waste preparation time here."

"But I don't know how they did it!" The priest raised his head, despair and fear in his eyes, "You are right, they will not believe me, I am dead."

"If they really have such great powers, they shouldn't be huddled in this town that relies on logging and local products." Kraft sneered. Although he was unsure, there was one rule that would not change. .

Any "mysterious organization" that hides its head and tail and behaves erratically, no matter how powerful it is boasted, is essentially because it cannot be defeated in a direct confrontation, so it remains underground for a long time.

"If you don't know how to say it, you can start with something simple. First, where is the original priest?"

"I don't know. I watched him walk into the locked room, and then I never saw him again." The fake priest looked inside the church, as if he could see the source of fear beyond the dusty wing ring relief, "They They said this was proof that they could communicate with the Lord, and it was the Lord who sent angels to take away the hypocrites.”

Kraft and Martin looked at each other, and the familiarity disappeared out of thin air.

"Then who are you?"

Such a person with reading and writing skills and acting talent can still be qualified for the priesthood, and he must have received some professional training.

"My name is Hoel. I was originally the priest here and the priest's apprentice. After he disappeared, no one doubted my taking over, not to mention that he really deserved to die." There seems to be some personal grudges here, but it is purely expected and reasonable. Among them, in the church's apprenticeship system, the superiors dominate, and the details depend purely on personal morality, so it is normal for the relationship to be discordant.

Now that the conversation has started, Kraft feels like going one step further, "How much do you know about 'them'?"

"Very few, they just threatened me to maintain the church here and hand over donations." With an attitude of breaking everything, the fake Father Hoel completely resigned to his fate, "There are also more talks about the kingdom of the Lord and the election in the holy scriptures. I don’t know what the meaning of this is.”

"Not a word changed?"

"Not a word changed." Hoel nodded, fearing that they wouldn't believe it, so he hurriedly added, "I was the one who did the copying work in the past. These are all classic stories, the originals used by the priest."

Kraft wrote it down silently. This so-called paganism becomes more and more unreasonable the more you hear it. It is simply a clone of the church, born to be confused with the original version, and the characteristics of its symbols and scriptures are not obvious.

"What are they called?"

"Orthodox, I mean they call themselves Orthodox." When this word comes out of his mouth, the speaker himself feels itchy, and no matter what, he can't find a reason to combine the two.

"Do you know where they are?"

Hoel shook his head subconsciously, but suddenly thought of something, "They have always sent people to look for me, but once, just that one time, I saw several cockleburs on the visitor's trouser legs. There should only be more of those things in the forest. .”

"Okay, one last question, temporary." Kraft realized that what he had caught was not a big fish, but a coerced peripheral cash machine. "Coop, give me the big bottle in the package. Yes, The one made of lead, along with the pliers, I don't want to touch."

Twist open the lead bottle and use pliers to pick up the red and black mineral-inlaid ornament. After closing the door, most of the church is shrouded in shadow, and the pupil-like light in the core can be seen.

"Do you recognize this?"

The fake priest responded with action. In the first second when the red light shone in his eyes, he burst into an unprecedented violent struggle without any warning. He ignored the fact that the rope was deeply entangled in his wrist, twisting like a fish that had been disemboweled. He bounced up and overturned the row of chairs. Neither of the two guards could hold him down immediately.

In the moment of looking at each other, Kraft saw the fear that had been suppressed burst out uncontrollably. It was not the pendant itself, but the extreme fear of the red light and the meaning it represented.

He cried and backed away, trying with all his strength to stay away from it, as if something would overtake him if he didn't.

Among the hoarse cries, only one sentence was particularly clear.

"Angels, their angels are coming!"