Chapter 306: Chaotic Cognition

Chapter 306: Chapter 306: Chaotic Cognition

"One last question." Seraphina Sinclair looked at the waiter, pointing to her own head. "Let’s say I suffered from a severe bout of Spiritual Pollution yesterday. My head is still aching today, and my whole body feels weak. How long will this last?"

The waiter’s gaze followed Seraphina Sinclair’s finger, landing on her temple.

Those eyes, which seemed permanently fixed in a standard smile, narrowed slightly as it studied her for a moment.

"Spiritual trauma is indeed more troublesome than physical injury."

The waiter’s voice held a hint of regret. "Judging from the symptoms you’ve described, you either encountered a highly intense source of pollution, or you were exposed for too long. The pollution has already sent a tremor through the very core of your consciousness and caused some minor scraping."

"Scraping?"

Seraphina Sinclair frowned. That word didn’t sound good at all.

"Yes. You can think of them as shallow scratches on the soul, or on the conscious self," the waiter explained. "I can only make a rough assessment of the damage you’ve sustained. As for a more precise diagnosis... I’m afraid I can’t do that."

Seraphina Sinclair understood completely.

’After all, this fellow was a chef. If it was also an expert in a Doctor’s field, that would be a little *too* "well-informed."’

What concerned her more was the realization that prolonged exposure to Spiritual Pollution could actually damage one’s Spirit.

It was perfectly logical. After a moment’s thought, Seraphina Sinclair felt more relief than anything else.

She was relieved that she’d crawled with all her might. Any further delay, and it wouldn’t have been a simple matter of "scraping."

There were so many skeletons in that stone room. If anything had gone even a little bit wrong, she would have become one of them.

Seraphina Sinclair took a deep breath and glanced at the Gloom Hatchling huddled in the corner.

Gloomdrakes, it seemed, were extremely sensitive creatures.

Once the Gloom Hatchling sensed Seraphina Sinclair’s aversion, it hadn’t tried to approach her again.

After this whole ordeal, Seraphina Sinclair now understood what people meant by something being "etched into your DNA."

She brought her gaze back to the waiter. "So, can this scraping heal by itself? How long would that take?"

The waiter tilted its head. After a moment, it answered, "The soul possesses a natural resilience and some capacity for self-healing. Scraping of this degree will slowly mend on its own, provided you aren’t continuously subjected to the same, or stronger, Spiritual Pollution."

"As for the time..." It paused, offering a broad estimate. "Based on your current condition, the noticeable headache and fatigue will likely last for one to three days before significantly subsiding."

"However, for the damage to fully heal and for your soul to return to its previous whole state, it could take a week or even longer. It depends on your own recovery rate and whether you receive any nourishment."

"Nourishment?" Seraphina Sinclair seized on the word.

"Yes. Just as a wounded body needs nutrients, a damaged soul will recover faster if it’s in a calm, peaceful environment or exposed to soothing things."

The waiter explained, "Conversely, remaining in a state of tension, anxiety, fear, or other negative emotions, or frequently engaging in mentally strenuous activities, will slow recovery. It could even deepen the wounds."

Seraphina Sinclair understood.

The meaning was clear. For the next few days, it would be best to rest quietly, take it easy both physically and mentally, and maintain a calm state of mind.

But in The Black Mist World, getting any real rest was easier said than done.

"Is there any way to speed up this recovery process?" she pressed. "Like an item or something?"

This question seemed to be a difficult one. The waiter thought for a long moment before replying, "Matters of the Spirit have always been rather mysterious and are a taboo subject."

It fell silent for a moment before continuing. "I’ve never heard of any such items. However, I have heard other guests mention a method that aids spiritual recovery. I only know *of* the method, though, not how to perform it."

Figuring a clue was better than nothing, Seraphina Sinclair said, "I’m listening."

The waiter nodded, seemingly trying to recall a vague memory. After a long moment, it spoke, choosing its words carefully. "Perhaps you’ve heard of the Black Mist Coliseum?"

’The Black Mist Coliseum?’

Seraphina Sinclair froze. In a flash of insight, it all clicked. She asked with a hint of uncertainty, "You’re not about to mention meditation, are you?"

The waiter was visibly caught off guard by Seraphina’s sudden interjection. The standard smile on its face seemed to freeze for a split second.

A rare flicker of something akin to surprise passed through its hollow eyes.

"Guest..." Its voice held a hint of resignation, as if someone had just stolen its thunder. "You know of it?"

The answer was clear now.

Seraphina Sinclair had just been thinking about getting a good night’s sleep to recover her Spirit, but it never occurred to her that the real method of recovery was meditation.

She frowned and smacked her forehead in annoyance, finally, belatedly, realizing her thinking was still stuck in the mindset of her previous world.

’Tired? Get a good night’s sleep. Injured? Use a Medical Bag.’

She hadn’t adjusted at all to this world of supernatural power, a world where souls and Spirits were tangible things.

If Seraphina Sinclair had failed to realize this, she would have undoubtedly missed out on many things, and even made many mistakes.

Thankfully, today had been a complete wake-up call.

Seraphina Sinclair took a deep breath, looked up at the waiter, and said earnestly, "Thank you for your guidance."

This "thank you" was far more sincere than her last.

The waiter had seemingly only offered a vague clue, but to Seraphina Sinclair, it was like a lamp being lit in the chaos of her understanding, illuminating the blind spots in her own mindset.

The waiter shook its head and bowed. "I was only doing what I am meant to do. There is no need for such courtesy."

With that, it bent down, collected the dishes from the stone table, and exited the mobile cottage with its signature smile.

The cottage fell silent once more.

Seraphina Sinclair stood thinking for a moment, her gaze suddenly falling on the Sunflower.

Its mood seemed to have completely recovered. In fact, it was quite pleased after being fussed over by the waiter. It now held its flower head high, bobbing it back and forth with carefree abandon.

Seraphina Sinclair watched it for a moment, then suddenly crossed the room and wrapped her arms around the colossal Sunflower.

The stalk’s rough, tough texture was a bit abrasive. The Sunflower, for its part, seemed unsure how to react to the sudden embrace. After a stunned moment, it wrapped its two large leaves around Seraphina Sinclair’s back.

Seraphina Sinclair looked up at the Sunflower’s head and smiled.

The smile was faint, tinged with exhaustion, yet it also held a sense of relief and warmth.

The Sunflower’s inner voice piped up again, a happy clamor: ’The little one... is smiling... So nice...’

It was nice.

Seraphina Sinclair let go and moved the Black Fog Lamp closer.

The Sunflower was still not quite satisfied with the lamp’s intensity. The moment the light hit it, its inner voice started clamoring again.

But Seraphina Sinclair pretended she didn’t hear a thing.