Vanessa kept pulling out new books, quickly locating particular chapters and passages, setting them down as soon as she had checked them, then looking for another. In her eyes, there were no thick, weighty volumes, only individual lines of crucial clues.
She was like a skilled fishmonger beside the Royal Canal, the sharp knife at her fingertips tracing the grain to separate flesh from bone.
Setting down another book, Vanessa rubbed her brow, feeling a little tired.
These books were far from ordinary.
Vanessa had never heard of the things recorded in them. Although she was only skimming, even the scattered phrases she read startled her. The accounts of history, the Supernatural, and sacrifice in these books were entirely different from what she had read before!
It was as though a brand-new world was slowly lifting its veil before her!
Vanessa was utterly absorbed.
And it was not just the contents.
The books themselves were also extremely difficult to read.
Every time she opened one, she felt a chill between her brows.
As though something was being slowly drawn out.
Vanessa had a vague sense that it must be her spirituality.
Reading these books consumed spirituality.
And while reading, she would fall into a peculiar state.
It was as though she stood among a crowd, with some people whispering, others murmuring, and still others walking straight past her, their hair brushing her cheek. Only when she looked up in confusion did she discover that she stood there alone. Everything had been an illusion.
Vanessa also felt her mind gradually growing foggy. Those whispers made her dizzy, and her temples throbbed with pain.
Fortunately, once she tried activating [Spirit Vision], all of it abruptly vanished.
Those whispers and illusions were like snowflakes landing on a scorching iron plate, sizzling into vapor.