The Secret Cult Chronicles of the Decaying Lake Manor

The light carried substantial heat and power.

The lines made of silver powder glowed with a scorching red heat, and the objects at the nodes emitted a corona-like halo.

The intense light spread rapidly, forming a hemispherical light shield that enveloped the Viscount and George, who was standing nearby.

Wherever the light reached, a breathtaking scene unfolded.

The array seemed to spread out in concentric circles among the dense swarm of frogs, with large swarms of frogs emitting sharp, painful cries as if they had been thrown onto a hot iron plate.

Their oil-colored bodies quickly swelled with countless blisters, which then burst, releasing large plumes of murky black vapor, as if the darkness within them was being forcibly expelled and burned away.

The fishy, ​​burnt smell instantly became extremely strong, making people nauseous.

Patches of frogs stiffened, turned black, and eventually turned to ashes in the light.

George squinted, the bright light stinging his eyes.

Just then, he noticed a sudden change on the surface of Rust Lake not far away—a whirlpool appeared without warning and rapidly expanded.

The lake water seemed to be stirred by a tremendous force, spinning wildly, its center unfathomably deep, from which a low, chilling sob could be faintly heard.

The viscount in the center of the formation had obviously also seen this scene.

Without hesitation, he thrust the cane, which radiated light and heat, into the very center of the array beneath his feet.

As the cane struck the ground, the array of lights suddenly intensified, as if all its power had been poured into it.

The viscount then turned around, strode out of the light barrier, and came to George.

His face appeared unusually pale under the bright light, but his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's.

"The source of the disaster has been triggered, and I must go down and resolve it." He spoke rapidly and decisively. "You stay here and take care of yourself. Thomas will assist you."

Before George could respond, the Viscount had already reached into the pocket of his morning robe and pulled something out.

It was a spear about six feet long, with a dark gold color throughout.

Although it's unclear how it was pulled out of the small pocket, its excellent appearance doesn't detract from its appeal—the gun body is covered with intricate patterns, and the tip is a crystal that constantly emits and emits a blazing white light.

The viscount casually flicked his cloak, and the heavy fabric embroidered with gold patterns seemed to come alive, billowing up.

The next instant, he floated into the air, his spear transforming into a streak of fire, and hurled it straight at the center of the menacing whirlpool on the lake's surface, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

The whirlpool closed rapidly after he entered, and the lake surface briefly returned to calm, leaving only the swarm of frogs that continued to turn to ashes under the illumination of the array of lights.

However, this calm did not last long.

Moments later, the entire lake surface began to churn violently as if boiling.

Huge bubbles rose and burst, sending up plumes of steam-filled white mist.

Intense light occasionally bursts from underwater, illuminating large areas of the lake like molten silver, only to quickly dim again, as if a fierce battle is taking place underwater.

Dull sounds of impact, explosion, and tearing could be faintly heard through the lake water, indicating that a fierce battle was clearly taking place underwater.

The croaking of the frogs on the shore grew increasingly mournful and desperate, but their strength seemed to be rapidly waning, and their movements became sluggish and listless.

George and Thomas stared intently at the churning lake, the atmosphere so heavy it was almost suffocating.

After a long while, the churning of the lake water reached its peak and suddenly surged upwards.

Large swaths of murky black water surged onto the lake surface like a fountain and spread rapidly.

The surviving frogs emitted a final, even thicker, black mist, before they all died.

A figure shot into the sky from the center of the black water amidst splashing water, landing slightly unsteadily at the edge of the array on the shore—it was the Viscount.

The viscount swayed as he landed, almost collapsing.

The magical cloak seemed to have lost its vitality, hanging limply.

Thomas and George reacted quickly, immediately stepping forward to support him on either side.

George glanced at the lake behind him.

A patch of black water appeared in the middle of the lake, and a huge, humanoid creature, about three meters long, slowly rose up and floated face down.

Its body is covered with dull, slimy scales, and it has sharp, dorsal fin-like protrusions on its back. Its limbs have an inhuman twisted appearance.

A single glance was enough to send chills down one's spine.

The viscount was covered in cold sweat, and his breathing was rapid and shallow.

His face was ashen, and his lips had lost all color.

"For now... I'm alright..." he gasped for breath, his voice weak. "The source is gone..."

He pulled a small, exquisitely crafted metal box from his pocket and placed it in George's hand; it was icy cold to the touch.

"Clean up the mess..." He looked at George, his eyes somewhat unfocused due to weakness, yet still carrying a commanding tone.

"Thomas... hurry, go back..."

Before he could finish speaking, the viscount's head lolled to the side, and he completely fainted.

Thomas's expression changed drastically, and he hurriedly supported the viscount's completely limp body.

Just then, George's gaze swept quickly over the cane that was still stuck in the center of the array, maintaining its light, and was clearly extraordinary.

His face instantly switched to an expression of panic and shock at his father's serious injury, his voice trembling just the right amount.

"Father! God! How...how is he?!"

Thomas was busy supporting the unconscious viscount and had no time to spare. He said anxiously, "My lord, you're exhausted, and your old injuries are probably... We must go back immediately for treatment!"

George seemed to only then notice the cane, staggering over and yanking it from the ground, clutching it tightly to his chest as if seeking some comfort, stammering:

"This...this...I'm holding...these things outside...I'm scared...I need them..."

He cowered, looking around at the dissipating black mist and the dead frog corpses, acting like an ordinary young man who was terrified.

Thomas was taken aback, clearly not expecting George to take the cane.

"Young Master, this walking stick is important to the Master..."

"I know! I know it's important!" George interrupted him, but held the cane even tighter.

"But Father is like this... You should take him home first! I... I'll wait here with it, it'll be safer... Please, Thomas, take Father home quickly!"

His face was etched with a mixture of genuine concern for the Viscount's injury and fear of his surroundings, making it hard to doubt his true feelings.

Thomas glanced at the unconscious, weak-breathing Viscount, then at George, who was clutching his cane tightly and looking terrified. His hesitation lasted only a moment.

He finally sighed, "...Alright, young master, please be careful. I'll come back for you as soon as possible!"

Without further delay, he struggled to half-carry, half-support the viscount onto the carriage, started the engine, and sped off towards the main residence.

The sound of wheels quickly faded into the distance, leaving George standing alone beside the gradually darkening array, surrounded by the pervasive stench of burning, the icy lake water, and countless dead frogs.

The panicked expression on his face slowly faded, and he looked down at the cane in his arms, which was still warm and had a halo of light flowing inside the amber at the top. His gaze calmed down.

In a way, I have to thank this thing for restoring some rationality, allowing him to conduct analysis with such a wealth of materials at hand.

Having thoroughly studied "An Actor Prepares" in my past life, I am now reaping rich rewards; it's time to reap the benefits.