"There's actually such a thing?!"
Even Herta, usually so detached and calm, couldn't help but exclaim aloud.
For this Curio that could alter cognition itself was, in every sense, a challenge to her own cognition.
She wasn't a psychologist or sociologist who specialized in studying the mind—but through her extensive research into the Substance of Remembrance, she had never once imagined that cognition and memory could stand in conflict with each other.
And according to Sylvester, it could even conflict with reason itself?
When cognition and reason collide, shouldn't reason, through rigorous verification, refine cognition into a new understanding?
That process is what learning is!
Yet according to Sylvester, such a conflict could persist indefinitely?
She found that hard to believe. It was like saying she could hold two completely opposite thoughts about something—both interesting and boring—at the same time. Especially absurd was the idea that she, Herta, could be disturbed by a nonsensical, forcibly implanted "belief" and refuse to trust her own eyes.
For someone as confident—borderline arrogant—as Herta, that sounded almost like an insult to her intelligence.
But then…
She tilted her head, glancing at Fu Xuan beside her, who was already deep in thought. Clearly, the woman was already contemplating the potential applications of this [Cognitive Seal].
No doubt? Not even a hint of skepticism?
Herta's self-assurance wavered.
She quickly pulled up every bit of data she could on this backwater junk shop—and to her surprise, not a single record existed of the store's Curios ever failing to match their descriptions. What did exist were many angry buyers who'd received low-tier green Curios and cursed the shop as a den of swindlers.
Could he really be telling the truth, then?
As she eyed Sylvester, now casually sipping his tea after having spoken with grave seriousness moments before, doubt crept in again.
Catching her gaze, Sylvester said lightly, "Yes, such things really do happen. And its effect has nothing to do with a person's strength. Only those whose reason is strong enough can resist its influence."
Reason strong enough…
Herta turned that phrase over in her mind, feeling a spark of challenge ignite within her.
Her eyes returned to the hulking machine.
Interesting.
While the genius was busy overanalyzing, Fu Xuan had already swept away her earlier unease.
If hypnosis and brainwashing weren't part of the equation, then the applications of this device suddenly became far broader.
For example, what if it were used on the Cloud Knights—to instill in them an unshakable belief in victory?
Though their deep-seated hatred of the Denizens of Abundance drove many Xianzhou soldiers to fight willingly, fear of death was still a primal instinct. That fear could weaken resolve, turn legs to jelly, and dull a sword's edge.
Among new recruits, this was particularly common. Not because they lacked training, but because they had never killed before. The first sight of severed limbs flying across the battlefield could reduce even the stoutest heart to trembling.
But if the [Cognitive Seal] implanted the firm belief of certain victory, their casualties could be vastly reduced.
And for the average soldier, the implications were even greater.
Fu Xuan, though serving as the Master Diviner, was no mere bureaucrat among the Six Charioteers. Strategy and deployment were her expertise.
She knew all too well the role morale played in warfare—because she had seen countless battles. In clashes between equally matched forces, eighty percent of the losses occurred after one side's morale collapsed—during the ensuing slaughter. Before that collapse, casualties were nearly even.
With the [Cognitive Seal], the morale of the Xianzhou armies could be sustained almost indefinitely.
Unless the enemy possessed overwhelming numbers to drown them—or a being so powerful they could swat the army aside with a single strike—
Then the Xianzhou would always be the ones left standing at the end!
And that wasn't all—the technology could extend to every field: instill "integrity and honesty" in officials, "loyalty and compassion" in soldiers, "righteous greed" in merchants. Even the laziest soul could be made to focus wholeheartedly on their work during duty hours.
Used wisely, this could build an ideal society!
Fu Xuan cast a sidelong glance at Qingque, who was eating leisurely nearby, and a sly, wicked smile curved her lips.
Qingque… looks like the Divination Commission's next trial has arrived! I'll make sure to recommend you to the General for the first imprint!
At last, the Divination Commission has found its successor!
The thought alone made Fu Xuan itch to drag Herta into the lab immediately—break the machine down, master its workings, and mass-produce a hundred more.
Meanwhile, Qingque, halfway through her meal, suddenly shivered. She looked around, puzzled, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Weird… was it just my imagination?
Herta, after long contemplation, finally accepted the machine's existence as reality.
But her curiosity only grew stronger. "This kind of cognition-altering capability—what Path serves as its power source?"
Memory had already been ruled out by Sylvester earlier.
So, after some thought, the Path that seemed most closely aligned with such an ability was—Erudition.
Yet she was herself an Emanator of Erudition. Even if she hadn't developed such a technology, it was unthinkable that she'd never heard of it before.
Then who could possibly achieve such a thing?
Could it be… Enigmata?
Those fictional historians—perhaps their abilities aligned with this sort of phenomenon.
But Sylvester's answer swept all her guesses aside.
"The [Cognitive Seal] involves no Path whatsoever. It is a purely technological creation."
"What? Impossible!" Herta exclaimed again, stunned.
That answer defied all her expectations.
"How could something that affects an Emanator not involve any Path energy at all?"
Otherwise, what power could it possibly draw on to influence one?
Sylvester only smiled faintly. "Miss Herta, your Path's power is exceptionally strong. Yet tell me—can you modify cognition?"
Herta fell silent.
That didn't even need to be said. If she could, she'd have tossed this hunk of metal aside already.
"…No."
Though the admission stung her pride, Herta was never one to lie to herself.
"There you have it." Sylvester sipped his tea casually. "Even the followers of Fuli, when facing other Path-aligned beings of equal strength, cannot forcibly rewrite cognition. At most, they can probe memory."
"So how could a lifeless machine possibly alter cognition through Path power?"
He set his cup down, his gaze sharpening. "Its principle is something more universal—something rooted deeper in the essence of humanity itself. It begins with the neurons inside every human brain."
"This was the invention of a world untouched by the power of any Path. A world without cultivation. Their focus turned entirely toward science. Through long years of study, they uncovered the mechanisms by which the brain makes judgments—and learned how to exert decisive influence over them."
"Think of human thought as akin to a computer: input data from the outside, process it, output a result. This machine skips the calculation step entirely, giving the result directly. When information enters the brain, it stimulates specific neural pathways so that the brain immediately accepts it as true, without conscious thought."
Taking a deep breath, Sylvester concluded, "That is the Cognitive Seal's operating principle—a crystallization of pure human intellect, born entirely from scientific pursuit."
"There's… actually a world like that?"
For a moment, Herta felt as if a new door had opened before her eyes.
She had seen worlds without Path power before—but none that had driven their science to such heights.
Her heart stirred.
That world must hold countless wonders she had never witnessed before!
A pure, unfiltered yearning surged within Herta. She would scour the universe, turning over every stone if she had to—
No matter what it took… she would find that world.