The Secret Cult Chronicles of the Decaying Lake Manor

Chapter 107 In the Mist (3) The Encircling Shadows

George immediately realized that the situation was more serious than he had thought.

"Carson, where are the Night's Watch usually stationed? What are their patrol routes?"

"The Night Watch hut is on the east side of the island. It's usually manned by Old Man Mor and five henchmen, who patrol in pairs at night, taking turns to circle the island..."

After Carson gave his explanation, George asked, "Which way did that man take?"

"Tom went east through the back door of the mansion."

"From this moment forward," George's tone became decisive, "no servant is permitted to leave the main building of the mansion, for any reason."

"Close all doors and windows tightly, and draw the thick curtains. Carson, you need to arrange for someone to keep an eye on the mansion for any unusual activity."

"Yes, young master. I'll make the arrangements right away." Carson bowed and turned to leave.

"Wait, Carson," George called after him. "Does the watchman's cabin have any emergency signals? Like a bell or a lighthouse?"

"There is a signal light hanging on the roof, which is normally off. They will turn it on if an emergency is detected."

And then there's the bell—there's a bronze bell next to the hut that can be rung.

"Very good, go now."

Carson left in a hurry.

George immediately turned around and strode towards the makeshift alchemy room.

At the corner of the corridor, he encountered Bates and Kelly, who were waiting there.

"What do you mean now?" Bates asked bluntly as George approached.

As George led the two toward the makeshift alchemy room, he said briefly, "We're going to the Night's Watch hut. A servant went there after the fog rose and may have encountered danger. Old Hanmore's place isn't necessarily safe either."

"More importantly, we need to confirm whether this fog is isolated, or—" He pointed outwards, "it covers a larger area."

The three entered the alchemy room, where Elliott was waiting; he had clearly already heard about the situation.

"Young master, at your service," Elliott said immediately.

George glanced at him and handed the Golden Sun Amulet to Elliot.

"This spiritual activation can emit a strong light and also deter ordinary supernatural intrusions."

Elliott took the amulet and nodded solemnly: "I will use it well, young master."

George turned to Bates and Kelly: "The inspector is staying at the mansion; we just need to go and rescue them together. I have the equipment for the extraordinary rope, and I'll lend Bates the ancient sword—"

"I'm still carrying a revolver," Bates said, patting his waist.

"Don't worry about me, I brought the right equipment with me this time." Kelly smiled slightly at George's questioning gaze. "If you have any medicine, you can prepare some for me."

"In that case, visibility is the biggest obstacle when moving in the fog, and it's hailing outside..." George pondered.

Kelly then interjected, "Can we wait until the hail subsides before going out?"

George thought it over and over but couldn't come up with a solution. Bates then added, "Once we're ready, we can go check the doorway first. If it doesn't work, we can wait until the hail stops."

George could only agree: "That's settled then. We'll work together as a four-person team. Everyone, meet at the front door in fifteen minutes."

Fifteen minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and when George and Elliott arrived in the foyer with their large and small items, Bates and Kelly were already waiting there.

Bates' voice sounded slightly odd: "Maybe we're lucky tonight; the hail just stopped outside."

George opened his mouth, but in the end he just shoved the lantern into his hand.

"Let's go."

Elliot pulled open the heavy gates of the mansion, and a wave of damp, chilly air, almost suffocating, washed over everyone's faces.

In the courtyard, the newly fallen snow, already pitted and cratered by the hail, had now frozen into an uneven ice shell, causing the feet of the people stepping on it to make a crunching sound.

The lantern's light could only illuminate five steps in the fog; the world beyond was swallowed by gray and white.

"It's impossible to move an inch like this," Bates frowned.

Kelly then held the lamp up to her eyes, her lips moving, and began to chant softly in an ancient and solemn tone:

"Quoniam tu illuminas lucernam meam, Domine; Deus mus, illumina

tenebras meas.

""

The Latin prayers were exceptionally clear in the cold night air.

In an instant, the flame inside the glass shade of the lantern suddenly brightened, as if the original light had been infused with the power of a furnace.

The light shone through the lampshade, making the area within fifteen yards clear.

But George could still taste the cold aftertaste of the mist in his nasal cavity; the incantation did not seem to directly dispel the surrounding mist.

Kelly explained succinctly, "It's a tactic we learned from the Anglican Church."

George nodded, adjusted the rope on his shoulder, and said softly, "Maintain formation. Bates, go first. I'll bring up the rear. Miss Moore, keep watch on the left. Elliott, you stay in the middle and provide lighting and support."

The four began to head towards the east side of the island.

They must be careful not to slip on the snow and hail while being mindful of the surrounding fog.

Stepping on the road surface, which was a mixture of ice and snow, each step produced a slight friction sound, which was amplified infinitely in the overly silent fog.

The hedges, statues, and low shrubs on both sides, battered and bent by the hail, were all hidden in gray and white, their outlines blurred and distorted, as if something might emerge from the shadows at any moment.

George's spiritual awareness was fully activated, but the feedback felt like countless tiny wisps of fluff swirling around every corner.

They walked through the garden on the east side of the mansion and turned onto the side road leading to the dock.

To the left is the edge of the grove, while the right side is more open and leads to the Night Watchman's Hut.

Just then, Elliott's steps suddenly stopped, and Bates, who was further ahead, whispered, "Stop."

George immediately understood why he did this.

Shadows appeared at the edges of the fog.

It wasn't shrubs, tree trunks, or branches—it was a dark, "heavier" texture compared to the surrounding mist, eerily separating and piecing together outside the light, converging towards the crowd.

George saw several shadows swaying and moving from the direction of the woods on the right at the boundary between light and shadow.

The slender shadows swayed like stilts in a circus.

But when George looked up, the "stilts" disappeared into the fog, their end nowhere to be seen.

Earlier, on the tower on the west side of Paradise Island Estate.

Viscount de la Porte, draped in his crimson robe that glowed with burning light, stood before a stone window on the fifth floor of the tower.

This is the highest point in the lake, from which one can overlook most of Paradise Island and the surrounding waters of the Decaying Lake.

However, at this moment, his vision was completely swallowed up by the unusually thick fog on the island.

Only a few unusually tall trees could barely pierce through this chaos with their canopies.

Apart from that, the decaying lake was nothing but a vast expanse of white.

The viscount showed no sign of weakness on his face at this moment.

On the contrary, an unusual light burned in those deep-set eyes.

The unusual hailstorm has stopped after the ceremony, but this seems to have created an opportunity for new disasters.

I don't know if my heir can solve this problem, or if the person I've been waiting for will ever appear...

The viscount rested his hands on the cold stone windowsill, the chilly wind blowing across his expressionless face.

"It's starting again," he murmured, his voice devoid of emotion. "This time it's Neon Star."

"6

He stared into the depths of the fog, as if something within was responding to him.

After a long while, he slowly exhaled.

"Ida," he said softly, his voice carried on the wind, "I think you'll keep your promise, won't you?"