Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire

What is the essence of cognitive poison?

Regarding this question, Dorothy currently doesn’t have a clear explanation. For now, she can only roughly speculate that cognitive poison is deeply related to Revelation spirituality. Delving deeper, it might also have some connection to the downfall of the Star Numerology Scriptorium. However, overall, there is still too little information to make any definitive conclusions.

“Well, it’s pointless to dwell on this. As long as I continue pursuing knowledge, I’ll eventually uncover the truth.”

Thinking this, Dorothy stops pondering about cognitive poison and instead focuses her attention on the medical books in front of her.

“Speaking of which… the medical knowledge in this world is more advanced than I expected. In my original world, during the steam revolution era, medicine wasn’t particularly impressive—amputations and bloodletting were common, and hospitals often resembled slaughterhouses.”

“But in this world, despite being in a similar steam revolution period, they’ve already developed antibiotics and have a relatively well-established nursing science. It feels like medical advancements here have outpaced industrial progress.”

Dorothy thinks this to herself, a realization she’s come to after spending the past few days studying medical books. And while she doesn’t have a complete answer to this phenomenon, she does have some ideas.

With this in mind, Dorothy reached out and pulled one of the medical books from the pile, flipping it open to the title page where the author’s information is listed.

“Edwina Bulwer, Doctor of Medicine, Honorary Countess of the Royal Family. Major achievements: Inventor of Green-Red Antibiotics, pioneer of modern surgical standardization, founder of modern anesthesiology, discoverer of blood types…”

“There are indeed geniuses in this world…”

Dorothy murmured thoughtfully as she looked at the name on the title page. She then closes the book and puts it away.

…

The sun began to set, the moon arose, and the night fell.

North Tivian, Cathedral District.

The bright moonlight shines on the spires of the cathedral, and the deep echoes of the church bells resonate through the night. The sound of devout prayers drifts between the buildings.

In an unremarkable building within the Cathedral District, bright lights illuminate a spacious room. The room is filled with tall bookshelves, stacked with various books and scrolls. There are also tables and cabinets adorned with strange artifacts. In the corners of the room, faint incense burns, its fragrance wafting through the air.

In the room, five or six figures—both men and women—dressed in nun or priest attire, sit at their respective stations. In front of them is a large, microscope-like instrument. The priests and nuns are carefully observing something through the eyepiece.

The room is exceptionally quiet, with everyone focused on their work. The only sound is the deep tolling of the church bells from outside.

“Ugh… it’s already seven? My eyes are starting to hurt…”

Sitting at her station, Vania stretches and mutters softly. Due to the strain of prolonged use, her eyes feel dry, and she rubs them before turning her attention to the large mechanical instrument in front of her.

This instrument resembles a microscope, with a half-meter-tall tube. The tube is covered in gears for adjusting parameters and has multiple slots for interchangeable lenses. Judging by the number of slots, there are at least a dozen lenses inside the tube. The surface of the tube is also engraved with mysterious symbols.

The lower end of the tube extends into a sealed metal cabinet. Inside the cabinet, out of sight, the objective lens at the bottom of the tube is focused on a tattered book fixed on a platform engraved with a magical array.

This is a mystical text observation device, an extremely effective tool for defending against cognitive poison. Through the protection of over a dozen enchanted lenses, the observer can directly view a small portion of the mystical text. Many organizations, including the Radiance Church, use such devices to observe mystical texts and guard against cognitive poison.

This is the Historical Scripture Department of the Tivian Cathedral District, a place dedicated to studying various religious texts collected from the public or unearthed from ancient sites. It is also where Vania works. Using such a large instrument to observe mystical texts and determine their content, distinguishing between heretical pseudepigrapha and orthodox canon, is part of Vania’s daily routine. In essence, she deals with mystical texts almost every day.

“Sigh… it’s been almost a month, and I’m finally almost done with this one… I can only read a few sentences at a time, and then I have to spend an hour in prayer. Compared to praying to Aka, this efficiency is torture. Sometimes I really want to take the book out of the cabinet and read more at once, but unfortunately, I can’t…”

Looking at the instrument, Vania thinks to herself. The church has strict regulations on how much she can read each time, the intervals between readings, and how long she must pray during those intervals. Even with hours spent each day, it usually takes one to two months to finish reading a single mystical text.

In contrast, when Vania goes home and reads the mystical texts Dorothy provides, using prayers to Akasha to cleanse the cognitive poison, she can finish a book in about a week. The efficiency gap is enormous. For example, this clearly heretical mystical text she’s been reading for almost a month—if it weren’t locked in the metal cabinet and mechanically assisted in turning pages, she would have tried to take it out and read it in a different way long ago.

Amidst the echoing church bells, Vania rubs her eyes and glances at her colleagues in the room. She narrows her eyes and thinks to herself.

“There’s only half an hour left before I’m off work… I really don’t feel like continuing to read this… I’ll just spend the rest of the time praying.”

Thinking this, Vania decides to take a break. During the intervals between reading sessions, the priests and nuns of the Historical Scripture Department aren’t idle. To counteract the potential minor effects of cognitive poison, they must engage in devout prayer to strengthen their faith.

Although Vania’s current reading session isn’t over yet, that doesn’t stop her from starting her prayers early, using them as an excuse to slack off for the last half hour before her shift ends.

“Lord, please forgive my laziness…”

Closing her eyes and clasping her hands, Vania begins to pray at her station.