The Secret Cult Chronicles of the Decaying Lake Manor

Breakfast was finished hastily.

When Arthur suggested going to check the well, his uncle, George, sister, and Bates all offered to go with him.

The old lady was clearly not in the mood, while her younger brother mumbled that he wanted to go back to his room to catch up on sleep, and they each left.

The group followed Butler Carson out of the main house and along the gravel path toward the well located at the back of the estate.

The air was filled with the damp, cool scent of earth and plants, but there was also a faint, strange smell mixed in.

The closer you get to the well, the stronger the smell becomes.

Until the group arrived at the stone well covered with a heavy wooden lid.

Two male servants and a gardener's assistant were already standing by the well, their faces relatively calm.

Although it was obvious to the naked eye that this composure was rather forced.

Carson gestured, and the servant stepped forward and laboriously cranked the windlass.

When the wooden bucket was placed on the stone platform beside the well, everyone's eyes widened instantly.

The bucket was filled with a thick, dark red liquid.

The color resembled congealed blood, gleaming ominously in the morning light.

A pungent, metallic smell assaulted their nostrils, and Sybil immediately covered her mouth, turning pale as she took a step back.

"My God..." The uncle gasped, staring incredulously at the bucket of "water".

"What the hell is this thing?"

Arthur frowned, stepped forward, and disregarded the strong smell, getting closer to examine it carefully.

He even stretched out his finger, dipped it in the liquid on the edge of the bucket, smelled it, and then rubbed it between his fingertips.

Then the expression on his face became extremely strange.

"There was no fishy smell of living things, not blood... Ah, a kind of indescribable putrid metallic smell."

Bates stepped forward, pulled out a small dagger he carried with him, and lightly dipped the tip of the blade into a little dark red liquid.

He held it up to his eyes to examine it, then smelled it. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes, and he said in a deep voice:

"Mr. Arthur is right. The taste is like something that has been soaking in molten iron for a long time, but the color and shape are indeed like blood."

He looked at Carson.

"When was this discovered? Has it happened before?"

Carson's face was also grim: "This morning, the cook turned on the tap and found something amiss, then discovered the same contamination in the well. Everything was normal last night."

We inspected the pool and well walls but found no obvious source of pollution.

"The water by the lake..." he pointed to the lakeside, "is like this when you bring it up."

"Ugh—" The younger sister couldn't hold back any longer and gagged, her body swaying slightly.

Her uncle immediately helped her up and took out a smelling salts bottle from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Sybil, are you alright? Let me take you home to rest."

He looked up at George, Carson, and Arthur, whose faces were filled with worry.

"here……"

"You should take Sybil back first; we'll take care of things here," George said immediately.

The uncle nodded, helped his sister, who was almost fainting, and hurried towards the main house.

Carson gave a few instructions to the remaining male servants and gardener's assistants, telling them to guard the well and not let anyone approach or attempt to clean it for the time being.

The servants nodded in fear.

For a moment, only George, his uncle, Bates, and the butler remained by the well.

The bucket of eerie, dark red well water emitted a nauseating odor, and the surrounding air seemed to freeze.

Bates walked around the well, carefully examining the wellhead and the surrounding ground, even squatting down to pick up a bit of soil and smell it.

The butler stood to the side, his brow furrowed as he stared at the bucket of blood, seemingly deep in thought.

George seized the opportunity when Carson's attention was distracted, and quietly approached his uncle, lowering his voice:

"Uncle, the letter you gave me last night said you wanted to talk sometime. Is now a good time? It concerns Father..."

He deliberately left his words unfinished, staring intently at Arthur.

Arthur Thomp glanced quickly at Carson and Bates not far away, noticing that one was focused on examining the ground and the other was deep in thought, staring at the blood bucket.

He quickly grabbed George's arm and led him a few steps to hide behind a thick clump of holly bushes beside the well.

George heard him whisper:

"Listen, George, your father has gone completely mad! He's not waiting for you to come back and inherit the family business; he wants to use you to fill his damn alchemy furnace!"

"I wanted to scare you away before you got here, but that didn't work, did it? The De La Porte family is stubborn to the core."

George's heart trembled, but he tried his best to remain calm, only his eyes sharpened: "Why? Just because...my mother?"

"Edrina! That must be it." Uncle paused when he mentioned the name. "I don't doubt that your parents loved each other deeply, but who knows what that madman Edward might do? There must have been something to it about your mother's sudden illness five years ago."

He then expressed his opinion in that hurried tone.

"He's dying now. He must need a new blood relative to deal with his out-of-control power, or to continue his damned ritual! You are the sacrifice he chose! This water..." He pointed to the bucket of dark red liquid.

"He's definitely involved! This manor is full of secrets, and I'm telling you, the person who knows the most core secrets..."

Uncle glanced sideways at the direction of Butler Carson outside the holly bushes and said decisively:

"It's your good housekeeper, John Carson! If you want to live and know the real cause of your mother's death, pry it out of him!"

He's loyal to the De La Porte family, but I doubt he agrees with everything Edward is doing. He might be the only one who knows how to handle this mess!

Uncle spoke very quickly, conveying a huge amount of information; every word struck George's heart like a heavy hammer.

"I..." George was about to ask for more details when he heard footsteps.

"Young Master George? Master Arthur?" It was Carson's voice; he seemed to be walking towards the bushes.

Uncle immediately shut up, patted George on the shoulder, gave him a stern look that said "remember my words," and then led the way through the bushes.

His face instantly changed to an expression full of curiosity.

"Carson, this thing is really weird! Luckily, the plants here haven't been affected... Mr. Bates, have you discovered anything?"

George took a deep breath, suppressed his turbulent emotions, and went outside as well.

Carson was standing outside the bushes, followed by a young male servant who looked hurried.

"Young Master George, Master Arthur," Carson bowed slightly, "the Madam and Master Albert request that the three of you return to the study in the main house immediately—there are important matters to discuss."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the bucket of dark red well water, and added, "Regarding the water source and the master's illness."

George and his uncle exchanged a knowing glance.

Bates stopped his investigation, stood up straight, and looked at George, waiting for his signal.

"Understood, Carson." George's voice was as if the secret conversation behind the bushes had never happened. "We'll head back now."

He gave the ominous bucket one last look before turning and walking toward the gray stone mansion that stood in the middle of the decaying lake.

Arthur Thompson and Bates followed closely behind.

Carson the butler followed silently at the back, his gaze deep and unfathomable; no one knew what he was thinking.