Chapter 424: Breakthrough and New Problems

Research in this area progressed more smoothly than anticipated.

Two and a half years into the seventh loop, the highest-level research institute deep within the main camp delivered a breakthrough announcement.

A confidential meeting—attended only by Lord Frost, Jie Ming, and a select few core logistics-system high-level wizards—was convened within layers of protective barriers.

Leading the presentation was a sixth-tier wizard with a slightly pale complexion but eyes burning with unusual fervor—Master Moreyas, the authority in biological modification.

Before him hovered a complex three-dimensional rune model emitting a soft blue glow: the preliminary fruit born from two and a half years of countless intellects and sacrifices.

“Commander, esteemed colleagues,” Moreyas said, his voice carrying the rigor of a researcher along with a trace of pride beneath exhaustion, “‘Loop Memory Anchoring Phase One Technology’—or, as we internally call it more plainly, ‘Sickle-Skull-Style Memory Resistance Implantation Technique’—has completed preliminary theoretical validation and living-subject safety testing.”

With a gentle gesture, the three-dimensional rune model disassembled, revealing its intricate structure down to the cellular level.

“Strictly speaking, this is not the creation of any entirely new law technique. It is more accurately a highly successful case of ‘reverse engineering and adaptive transplantation of biological mechanisms.’ We analyzed the physiological foundations in high-tier Sickle-Skull soul structures and specific pheromone glands that allow certain ‘memory imprints’ to stubbornly persist through time erosion, and extracted their core ‘information anchoring’ and ‘anti-reset’ mechanisms.”

Jie Ming, seated to the side, flipped through the detailed technical report already transmitted to his Netherweb Terminal.

The deeper he read, the greater his admiration grew for these senior wizards who specialized in the fundamental transformation of life.

The report meticulously described how they took the neural synapse structures and pheromone encoding patterns in Sickle-Skull that weakly resonated with the plane’s time laws, then—through exquisitely delicate biochemical and rune surgeries—“grafted” them onto the peripheral soul layers and deep neural networks of wizards.

The process involved soul surgery, genetic-level micro-adjustments, and complex law rune mosaics—every step perilous in the extreme, demanding unimaginable control and profound understanding of life’s essence.

Jie Ming readily admitted that, with his current knowledge reserve, he could never have achieved this level of sophistication in such a short time.

“Of course,” Master Moreyas shifted tone, growing solemn, “this is only Version One. Its limitations are glaring. First, it is invasive, requiring a delicate and time-consuming surgical procedure with high demands on both operator and subject. Second, the effect… is far from ideal.”

He displayed a set of experimental data: “Based on preliminary observations of volunteer subjects, once the implant activates successfully, the recipient does indeed produce clear ‘cognition’ after a time reversal—they ‘know’ they have just experienced a reset. However, how much specific memory from the previous loop they retain depends entirely on the subject’s own mental power strength, soul stability, and the ‘depth’ of that memory to the individual.”

“Rough quantification: for an average first-ring wizard, they can probably retain a few of the most intense ‘impression fragments’—such as near-death terror, overwhelming joy, or extreme shock tied to specific scenes. Coherent, detail-rich memory streams are currently impossible to guarantee.”

Looking at this data, many of Jie Ming’s previous doubts about the Sickle-Skull’s battlefield behavior suddenly became clear.

He understood.

Why had the Sickle-Skull fought with near-fanatical will during the early stages of the wizard invasion?

Because they “knew” time would reverse. Death was not an end, but merely a failed save-and-reload in a game.

Under the cognition of “fear no death,” their combat was naturally fearless.

But why did their morale later fluctuate, even showing widespread war-weariness and retreat?

Precisely because of the “flaw” in this ability: retained memory prioritized the most intense emotional fragments.

For the vast majority of Sickle-Skull with ordinary or even low mental power, what was the most profound experience they had in every loop when facing the wizards’ overwhelming strength and endless varieties of slaughter?

Naturally—the ultimate terror of death itself!

Loop after loop, even if they couldn’t remember specific tactical details or the wizards’ appearances, that soul-deep fear of death and suffering accumulated relentlessly with each reset!

At first, this fear might have transformed into the fighting spirit of “we must eliminate the enemy quickly.”

But when they realized that no matter how desperately they fought, they could not change the outcome of being utterly crushed by the wizards’ absolute power, repeatedly experiencing death, the inevitable result was collapse of will and war-weariness.

Until… that hidden “will” behind the scenes intervened, forcibly reversing this collective mental decline.

Jie Ming quietly shared his inference with Frost beside him. A trace of agreement flashed in the commander’s eyes as he slowly nodded.

This explained many contradictions in the enemy’s behavioral patterns.

After listening to the logistics wizard’s presentation, Frost raised the most critical question: “Master Moreyas, with the current level of technological maturity, can this be rolled out on a legion-wide scale? Even if it only allows warriors to gain ‘cognition of the loop,’ it would be of immense value for tactical execution and morale maintenance.”

The grandmasters quickly conferred.

Finally, another expert responsible for practical surgical implementation spoke, his voice tinged with regret:

“Theoretically possible, but practically meaningless, Commander.”

He explained: “First, the transformation surgery is complex and time-consuming. With our current manpower and equipment, completing a standardized procedure on one wizard takes an average of one full standard hour without interruption. To roll it out across the entire legion… the time cost is unbearable. Given the current battlefield tempo, we likely couldn’t even complete ten percent of the required transformations within the remaining time of this loop.”

“Second, and more critically,” Master Moreyas continued, “Phase One technology is too basic. Merely ‘cognizing that a loop has occurred’ holds limited value for frontline combat wizards. What they truly need is to carry tactical experience, enemy weaknesses, terrain changes, and other specific information into the next loop.”

“With current technology, they cannot carry these. Forcible widespread rollout would waste precious research time and surgical resources, and might even cause unnecessary soul damage or rejection reactions due to the immature implant.”

He concluded: “We believe the most rational application strategy is to treat it as a ‘research support tool’ and ‘high-level command safeguard.’ Priority should go to logistics-system wizards, as well as high-tier combat commanders and special tactical unit leaders who need to oversee the big picture.”

“Let them cognize the loop and retain key research ideas, experimental data summaries, or strategic decision logic. This will greatly ensure continuity of research and stability of high-level command.”

“As for widespread rollout…” another sixth-tier wizard added, “we recommend postponing discussion until Phase Two and Three iterations. The ultimate goal of this technology is to develop a stable version that requires no complex surgery—perhaps even a simple standard witchcraft ritual that any wizard can perform on themselves to achieve ‘memory anchoring.’ Only then will it be time for full deployment.”

After listening, Frost fell into brief contemplation.

His gaze swept from Jie Ming to every grandmaster present before delivering his decision.

“I accept your professional judgment.” His voice was steady. “Effective immediately, initiate the Phase One technology priority transformation program. Transformation order is as follows: First priority—all logistics-system wizards participating in ‘loop essence’ and related core projects. Second priority—all sixth-tier and above combat commanders and special tactical unit leaders. Third priority—as surgical capacity and remaining time allow, selectively transform some key-post fifth-tier wizards.”

He looked to Moreyas: “Master, immediately draft a detailed transformation schedule and safety plan. Request whatever resources you need—I will grant highest-priority access.”

“Yes, Commander!” Moreyas and the other project leads responded with renewed vigor.

“Advisor Jie Ming,” Frost turned to him once more, “you are likewise included in first priority. The synergy between your ‘recording’ ability and this technology may produce even better results.”

“I understand.” Jie Ming nodded.

Though he personally did not require this technology, experiencing it firsthand to conduct deeper research into related mechanisms was certainly beneficial.

…

…

The meeting adjourned, and everyone dispersed swiftly to execute their new tasks.

The plan proceeded with exceptional smoothness.

In the latter half of the loop, all logistics-system and high-tier wizards completed Phase One memory anchoring transformation.

Thanks to the precious time bought through the aggressive hunting of the early phase, the war situation was forcibly dragged into the sixth year.

Excluding the first two and a half years of foundational R&D and the half-year of transformation surgeries, the remaining full three years became a golden, undisturbed research period for the logistics wizards.

Knowing their time was limited and that they could carry progress into the next “awakening,” every researcher’s efficiency was pushed to the extreme.

When the seventh loop finally ended due to the Sickle-Skull population nearing the critical threshold, Phase Two of the memory anchoring technology had already completed theoretical construction and most safety simulations—only one step away from physical testing.

In the eighth loop, the change was striking.

Jie Ming discovered that the wizards’ coordinated combat had become far smoother.

Even without clear memory inheritance, those “key cognitions” and “intense emotional imprints” retained through Phase One acted like invisible threads, linking experience fragments across loops.

Combined with the exhaustive intelligence support provided by Jie Ming, the entire legion’s operations displayed astonishing “proficiency” and “foresight.”

Thus research speed surged once again.

Phase Two memory anchoring technology was successfully completed and rolled out mid-loop.

Compared to Phase One, it optimized the implantation structure and reduced surgical trauma.

Most importantly, it began attempting weak association between specific structured “knowledge packages” and soul anchoring points.

This gave recipients a certain probability of recalling certain key “conclusions” or “methods” after a loop, even if the procedural details remained blurred.

And in the latter part of the eighth loop, an even more revolutionary breakthrough arrived—Phase Three technology, or what they called the “Time Anchoring” witchcraft model, was declared complete.

It was no longer an invasive biochemical transformation, but a standard witchcraft model that any wizard—including combat-system ones—could learn and apply to themselves.

Its core principle transformed the soul-bound “anchoring points” of Phase Two into programmable, injectable standardized rune structures.

A wizard needed only a few days to master the model, then perform the spell on themselves to inscribe a “memory firewall” specifically targeting the phenomenon of “time reversal” deep within their soul.

From that moment on, time reversal could no longer wash away their memories.

They would step into the next loop with full consciousness, carrying all experiences from the previous one.

When Jie Ming first personally witnessed that complex witchcraft model hovering in the public knowledge repository, radiating a stable silver-gray glow, he felt an indescribable emotion.

The learning and creative power of wizard civilization had unknowingly bared terrifying fangs.

Starting from a physiological mechanism of an alien race under study, within a mere handful of loops, they had refined and elevated it into a law technique universally usable by their own civilization.

Though this “Time Anchoring Technique” was highly specialized—targeting only this plane’s specific form of “time reversal”—the depth and universality of its understanding of time, memory, and soul interaction was refined enough to serve as a precious reference for wizards researching other time-based witchcraft.

Of course, on this battlefield where every second counted, no one had leisure to expand into other time domains.

Its value in the present was crystal clear.

With wizards armed with “Time Anchoring,” the legion’s shackles were completely removed.

The ninth loop, the tenth… the nature of the war underwent a fundamental transformation.

The wizards no longer needed to cautiously control tempo out of fear that research would be interrupted.

They could throw themselves into battle without reservation, crushing the enemy with maximum violence, because all experience, all data, all research progress would be carried intact into the next loop.

Jie Ming’s workload decreased dramatically.

He no longer needed to record everything in exhaustive detail, nor worry about condensing vast intelligence into summaries.

The wizards themselves had become the best record-keepers.

His role shifted more toward that of a super-database and cross-disciplinary knowledge integrator—assisting various research groups in retrieving historical data, validating hypotheses, and proposing new interdisciplinary research directions.

War had become an aid to research, and the objective of that research was singular and unprecedented: to completely unravel the root cause and mechanism of this plane’s time reversal, to locate and comprehend that “behind-the-scenes existence.”

Under the terrifying efficiency of countless intellects focused together and time that could be “recharged” infinitely, the secrets of the once-troublesome Sickle-Skull civilization were peeled away layer by layer.

Their biological characteristics, social structure, information networks, energy systems, interaction patterns with the plane’s laws…

Everything was studied to exhaustive clarity.

The wizards had even simulated portions of the “time ripple” generation algorithm, enabling them to predict the approximate timing of the next large-scale time reversal several hours in advance.

Research into time reversal itself had reached the law level.

It was confirmed as a rule-based phenomenon operating on the scale of the entire plane, with its trigger condition deeply bound to the overall population of the Sickle-Skull and a certain “civilization survival anxiety index.”

From this perspective, the so-called time reversal resembled a highly complex emergency protocol.

Yet when all surface mechanisms had been clarified, one core bottleneck stood like an insurmountable wall before every researcher.

The fifteenth crossing of the spatial rift.

Jie Ming opened his eyes, feeling the stable fluctuations of the “Time Anchoring” witchcraft within his body, confirming he had returned with the complete memories of the fourteenth loop.

He exchanged intelligence crystals with Frost in a now-familiar ritual—though both already remembered everything.

Jie Ming flew directly toward the depths of the wizard camp.

Every wizard he passed along the way had clear rationality and focused purpose in their eyes—no trace remained of the initial bewilderment.

They nodded to one another in greeting and swiftly returned to their work in the new loop.

Everything was orderly and astonishingly efficient.

But Jie Ming’s mood, though calm, carried an unshakable weight.

He arrived at the central analysis hall. The enormous three-dimensional projection displayed every research achievement to date concerning this plane, its time reversal, and the Sickle-Skull.

All this information had been woven into an exceedingly complex yet strikingly clear colossal web.

Every node in the web shone brightly, representing problems that had been conquered.

Only the center of the web—the region representing the “manipulator” or “core will”—remained a blank void.

“Still… no clues…” A familiar voice sounded beside him. It was Allison.

Her eyes also carried a trace of weariness—not physical fatigue, but the mental exhaustion of long-term focus on an unsolvable problem.

Jie Ming shook his head, his gaze sweeping across the other core researchers in the hall, all wearing similar expressions.

“We have tried every method we could think of—based on Sickle-Skull individuals, social networks, residual pheromone history, even large-scale proactive soul resonance detection we initiated ourselves…” A grandmaster specializing in soul and consciousness sighed, pointing at the projection. “All results are consistent: no evidence exists of any higher-dimensional ‘will entity’ transcending the level of ‘species collective subconscious.’ The rules of time reversal are engraved into the plane’s laws, operating like a natural phenomenon.”

“The Sickle-Skull’s ‘memory retention’ and ‘behavioral adjustment’ appear more like group adaptive evolution based on biological instinct under the operation of this rule set, plus… some kind of non-intelligent ‘rule feedback’ that we have yet to fully understand.”

“But those clearly intentional regulatory behaviors—ones that blatantly contradict low-level biological instinct, forcibly boosting morale, even seeming to preempt some of our higher-level research directions…” Jie Ming’s brows furrowed tightly. “If it’s only non-intelligent rule feedback, can it be this ‘precise’ and ‘targeted’?”

This was precisely the bottleneck.

All phenomena could be explained by complex rules plus group adaptation.

Yet certain subtle details that carried traces of “intent” gave the most top-tier wizards the instinctive feeling that there should be a “manipulator” behind it all.

However, every detection method pointed to nothingness.

“This… is truly troublesome…” Jie Ming couldn’t help sighing.

Fifteen loops, decades of concentrated research, had nearly exhausted every surface secret of this plane—yet they were stuck at the final, most crucial step.

They had solved most of the puzzle, but could not find the one who posed it.