Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

Dominic woke up exactly according to the biological clock he developed during his school days, but it seemed a little too early here. The daylight in the mountains was still looking for a way out among the mountains, and only a layer of faint light set off the undulating shadows of the rocks.

Unexpectedly, when they arrived at the stonemason's house, they found that he had prepared to set off earlier. He sat on the stone slab at the door, wearing a local-style straw hat and a backpack with sundries beside him.

It was indeed necessary to set off early. When the three of them walked along the river bank through the large wheat fields and stepped into the shade of the trees at the foot of the mountain where few people had traveled, the scorching celestial body above their heads had already begun to move to the highest point.

They had to make a temporary rest and eat some of the food they brought with water to prepare for the next climb.

To be honest, the two had begun to regret agreeing to the on-site survey. It seemed that there was still a long way to go, and the actual distance was often farther than the visual distance, so far that the sense of existence of the villages and towns behind them began to fade.

They never realized that those abandoned farmhouses and barren ridges were the source of safety cues.

When we reached the edge of human activities, there was only an intermittent trail. The grass on both sides seemed to be tilted towards the road under the pull of some invisible force, making it difficult to distinguish from the background, like a cotton thread that could be torn at any time.

"We don't come here often, so we wonder why old John had to come here to pick plantain. Fortunately, I was careful, otherwise my poor grandfather would have suffered."

The stonemason talked about what happened at that time. He should have had some prejudice against old John, otherwise he would not have suspected tomb robbery just because he came here.

However, this is indeed not a treasure land suitable for picking wild vegetables. The soil mixed with stones adheres to the mountain, and it looks difficult to retain water and soil.

The tree species with strong vitality occupy the main ecological niche. They are shorter and more scattered than their counterparts in other places, providing space for shrubs and weeds.

The gray-brown hawthorn branches and thorny leaves are sparse and tangled, and the thorns are used to protect the dry and sour fruits. It is almost impossible to reach into the bushes where they exist, let alone pick the young leaves of plantain.

It seems that even birds are not interested in visiting this place, and the vegetation with poor appearance does not conform to the aesthetics of living, whether living or dead.

The only thing that can be praised is that it does look relatively high, and the skinny skeleton will be more rugged and slender than normal people.

At least most middle-aged priests in the church will not like this place, and there is always an illusion that their hairstyle is targeted.

With someone leading the way, the climbing process is still not smooth, and even the stonemason himself occasionally needs to stop for a moment. Dominic guessed that he was thinking about where the next section of this semi-abandoned road will jump to.

The long and endless consumption almost makes people forget the purpose, and just follow upward blindly.

So after an unexpected bend, they ran into several rough-looking stone tablets head-on.

The front became flat, as if it was a hint of the end. The vegetation was the same as before, but more desolate and dry. The unsheltered air currents at high altitudes tore the trees into a messy and crooked state. The bark seemed to have been eroded and polished, and the smooth gray surface was dotted with tiny cracks, which reminded people of the skinny finger bones sticking out from the ground.

There was no higher place after the gentle slope, leading to the open and empty sky curtain.

The sky here gave people a feeling that was a little different from the ground, but with Dominic's mediocre color vision and language skills, he could not translate it into a text description.

The clouds rolled and floated silently, layer by layer, but there was no longer a sense of crowding, but instead there was an almost empty emptiness.

There was no bird song or wind sound, and the void itself occupied an infinite space, so there was no more things outside of silence.

It was not until the stonemason tried to greet him that Dominic realized that the stone tablets were the destination of this trip.

It's no wonder they are like this. This place doesn't look like a cemetery. The size of the tombstones is much smaller than normal. It may be for the convenience of carrying it up, or it may be simply carved from the stones on the top of the mountain.

The tombstone of the stonemason's grandfather is one of the older ones. He didn't get much preferential treatment because of his craftsmanship. He only had a simple church emblem compared to his neighbors, indicating his experience of serving the monastery.

Pointing to the plot of land behind the tombstone that had been re-covered by weeds and shrubs, the stonemason tearfully described how the scene was in a mess at the time, and the current overlapping soil layer was completely different from the one next to it. The guy with no moral bottom line even left traces of damage on the tombstone.

The two people who came to investigate did not get much useful information from it. They listened to the description awkwardly but politely, not knowing whether to nod and respond.

As thought before, too much time has passed, and there is no evidence to directly determine who did it.

Field finally couldn't help it and left on the pretext of checking the scene.

Dominic, who was left behind, tried to ask questions, hoping to transfer the initiative to himself, persuade the other party to give up hatred, and turn to daily life.

"Excuse me, are there any burial objects left in the tomb?"

After all, with the economic conditions of Priyer County, it is usually rare to bury any important items with the deceased. The church itself does not support extravagant funeral customs, and prefers a simple form with good interpersonal relationships.

The typical corpse theft cases in Dunling did not happen here, after all, there is no medical school nearby.

If it was really done by Old John, he should be very sure that there was something worth risking in the tomb, but this leads to other questions-how did he know, and where could he sell the stolen goods.

"This..."

The stonemason hesitated, but Dominic keenly discovered the unspeakable secret and used it as a breakthrough, "The Heavenly Father taught us not to store up treasures for ourselves on earth, where there are moths and rust, and thieves dig holes to steal."

"You are all believers of the Lord, you should understand this truth, and you should tell me everything, because the soul ascends to heaven not by the amount of wealth."

"No, no, no, you misunderstood." The stonemason hurriedly explained, "Because my grandfather was a devout believer in the Heavenly Father, we followed his instructions and put a few of his personal belongings in."

"What is it?"

"According to my father, there is a copper holy emblem and a gift in return for helping to repair the monastery."

It doesn't sound like a particularly valuable item. Dominic knows that these gifts are mostly handmade holy emblems, holy water bottles, one or two pages of handwritten scriptures and other small things with limited economic value made by the monks in their spare time to show the transmission and blessing of faith. It is normal to put them in the coffin for blessing.

If the stonemason said so, then Old John should not have a motive for committing the crime.

The young monk hissed in confusion, feeling that there were logical contradictions everywhere, and perhaps the whole thing was a misunderstanding.

"Why are you so sure that it was Old John who robbed your grandfather's tomb?"

"During that period, I only saw him come here alone, and he always looked very panicked after returning. He didn't say anything when asked, and soon fell to death. It must be a punishment from God!"

"He fell to death?" It was a reasonable way to die. He had deeply understood the consequences of walking on mountain roads when he was in a bad mental state. "Then where is Old John's tomb?"

"The one over there is his." The stonemason casually pointed to a place where there was no stone tablet, only the slight undulation of the land showed that it was different from the surrounding area, "But there is no one in it, otherwise I would have dug it for him..."

"No body in it?"

"Yes, I didn't find it. Sometimes it happens. It was probably dragged away by wild animals."