By loading magical antennas on satellites, the original essence manifestation search mode can be slightly adjusted to search for the magical frequency of the Holy Mother.
After locating it, adjusting the frequency again to counteract the Holy Mother's magical frequency can achieve an annihilating effect.
These tasks are not difficult to accomplish under Lucas's control.
Thus, a hunt for the Holy Mother began.
To maintain precision, the detection range of a single magical satellite is limited, and there are not enough satellites to cover the entire global surface simultaneously. However, these low-orbit satellites move quickly, generally circling the Earth in just over an hour. Hundreds of satellites together form a highly complex orbit, allowing a significant area to be scanned each day.
For the Holy Mother to evade such scanning, it would need to know the orbits of all three hundred satellites and calculate safe points outside the scanning areas to escape to in time, which is obviously impossible for the Holy Mother at present.
Therefore, on average, every ten to thirty minutes, the Holy Mother's location would be illuminated by the "spotlight" from above, and once illuminated, it would face an annihilation strike at the speed of light.
After being struck, the Holy Mother would immediately escape through the interconnected effects between images, but the pulse-like annihilation magic, like bullets shot from the sky, always made it pay a price.
It had already suffered a round of attacks while trapped in the laboratory and had not recovered yet. Now, being shot at daily, although not at a high frequency, the uncertainty of when the next shot would come was exhausting.
However, after two or three days, the Holy Mother began to falter.
Satellite feedback signals showed that the Holy Mother's magical strength had decreased by 10% in three days, and as time went on, its reaction speed to the attacks slowed.
"Although we do not know its form of existence, it seems to tire as well. Continuous, unpredictable attacks are nearly breaking its spirit," Lucas analyzed.
Thinking from the enemy's perspective, attacks coming from thousands of kilometers away in space, without any warning, and not knowing where is safe, unable to fight back or escape, is truly maddening.
But the enemy's pain is Murphy's source of joy, "Don't stop, keep hitting hard."
"However, what about you? Do you get tired?" Murphy still showed concern for Lucas's condition.
"In the beginning, yes, but I have learned to use automated programs to substitute my mental effort for these calculations. As long as the computing power is sufficient, repetitive tasks no longer burden me."
Murphy raised an eyebrow. Was this the ability after a magical version of mechanical ascension?
Lucas had essentially externalized a supercomputer as an auxiliary brain.
Repetitive logical calculations could be handled by the supercomputer, while her own consciousness could engage in abstract thinking. Combined, their actual computing power even surpassed some of the supercomputers and big data models from Murphy's era before crossing over.
This was close to the real general artificial intelligence depicted in sci-fi works, and as Lucas became more familiar with this mode of thinking, she was gradually advancing towards the realm of super artificial intelligence.
Even Murphy was somewhat envious of this powerful thinking capability.
"Good, let's eliminate it within a month."
...
In fact, it didn't take a month. Half a month later, the Holy Mother seemed to be bewildered, its magical strength had dropped to 30% of its original, much faster than expected, and its downfall was inevitable.
In Turkey, at the Göbekli Tepe hill.
A man wrapped in a headscarf stood at the edge of an archaeological site's pit, chatting with a scholar-looking person.
In front of them, dozens of workers were clearing dirt and stones from the pit.
In the pit, several T-shaped megaliths carved with various animals had been unearthed, arranged in several circles.
After a while, the old man and the scholar said goodbye, and the old man moved to the shade of a nearby tree, where a well-dressed old gentleman was standing.
"How was it, did it satisfy your curiosity?" Grindelwald asked.
"Absolutely astonishing. You should see it, those megaliths date back over twelve thousand years. Completing such a project would have likely required the cooperation of hundreds or even thousands of people. This site might be even older than any civilization we've previously encountered."
"Moreover, I sensed something different here. There are traces of magic, very special magic."
"You mean?"
"Similar to the Holy Mother's magic... And given that this was likely a temple or a ceremonial site, there might have been deities here..."
"Did they leave anything behind?"
"No, the essence manifestation showed no reaction."
"Shall we go then?" Grindelwald suggested. "A kind Muggle recommended me some of his favorite delicacies earlier, dolma and sarma, they look tasty."
"Look tasty?" Dumbledore frowned.
"A little Legilimency, don't worry, I just peeked at what the tastiest food in his mind was, it won't harm him." Grindelwald was unconcerned. "I believe he was quite willing to have it done."
Although Dumbledore found it highly inappropriate to use Legilimency on anyone—especially Muggles—he had to admit, considering Grindelwald's past actions, this was relatively restrained.
As they were about to leave, a motorcycle, driven by a middle-aged, overweight woman, approached them, kicking up dust. She was staring intently at them, muttering under her breath, and in her other hand, not holding the handlebar, she was holding up a picture frame.
"I dare say, she's here for you, Albus."
Dumbledore frowned. "Let's leave this place."
"We should have blasted that Muggle woman into the sky as a warning to the Holy Mother, or else it will keep bothering you."
"We've agreed not to attack Muggles."
"Alright, alright..." Suddenly, the two disappeared.
However, as soon as they arrived at the restaurant, they found their reserved spot already taken by a dirty, one-handed old man wearing tattered clothes, completely out of place in the clean and tidy environment.
"We really should have blasted them..." Grindelwald remarked.
"Let's see what he has to say," Dumbledore, although disgusted by the behavior, couldn't let Grindelwald kill at will.
Before Grindelwald got truly angry, it was better to hear what the other party had to say.
Dumbledore sat down at the table. "Whatever you want to say, I won't agree. I've made my decision not to bear the burden of saving this world anymore. Please leave."
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