The Secret Cult Chronicles of the Decaying Lake Manor

Miss Moran didn't look at the money; her gaze lingered on George's face for a second.

George was somewhat puzzled by her gaze, but remained composed under it.

"Knowledge comes at a price," she repeated, her voice lower, "and gifts are sometimes a heavier price to pay."

After saying that, she buried herself back into the thick book, her intention to see the guest out was obvious.

George and Bates exchanged a glance, picked up two books, and turned to leave the bookstore.

After a simple dinner at the restaurant, the two bachelors, George, took the evening public carriage back to his lodging.

Back in his room, he immediately opened the expensive book, "God's Blessed Land".

The night outside the window was deep and quiet in the countryside. The pages of the book rustled between his fingers, and the obscure words intertwined with a bizarre poetic narrative.

Similar to the elusive descriptions in "Night Wanderings," Monmouth's work, on the surface, is just an ordinary epic.

The story roughly describes how the poet came to a mountain called Ambar, tricked the Green Knight with illusions, crossed a blue lake by small boat to reach an island, and met nine fairies.

But having read the former, George could easily discern from the latter's words that it was an epic of the extraordinary.

The green knight, covered in dust and as tall and silent as a sculpture, traverses the lake and is described as "crossing the boundary between floating leaves and rippling waves."

The first three of the nine fairies on the island wield "a small silver knife to open eyelids and skulls," "a lamp to illuminate the mist," and "a clay pot filled with fine wine," respectively.

As George read the long description, he realized—wasn't this the initial encounter, the realization, and the yearning?

The various gems, harps, scrolls, and other items that the goddess later wielded all seemed to possess some kind of undefined symbolism.

George vaguely believed, based on the island’s “complex but exquisite, profoundly meaningful” rituals, that the path after the three stages of awakening should have a certain fixed procedure.

How this process is implemented and how it corresponds to the extraordinary power of this world remains unclear.

This is probably because he has had too little experience with extraordinary things.

However, the book answers George's question about the "sexual aspect" of the card table: the sexual aspect is the imprint of things in the spiritual realm, the area where the rules and living beings meet.

He spent the entire night meticulously studying this detailed work, word by word.

When he closed the last page, it was already late at night outside the window, and only then did he feel tired.

George blew out the kerosene lamp, lay down on the bed, and almost instantly fell asleep.

Deep in my consciousness, that heavy card table appeared as expected.

In the center of the table, two brand-new cards floated silently, emitting a warm, jade-like glow.

On one of the cards, an abstract, simple eye pattern is opening and closing against a light blue background.

[Extensive Knowledge]

[The Eye of Insight briefly opens; foresight is imminent.]

[Sexual Aspect: Candle]

[Countdown: 167:59:58…]

Below the card, a line of tiny, glowing text indicates the expiration date, with the number decreasing second by second.

The other one is that book.

【"God-Blessed Land: The History of Glass Island"】

[Sexual characteristics: books, strings, words]

[An epic poem written in the 12th century describes a journey to the "Island of Glass" and praises the chief of the island's nine fairies, saying she is more noble than the Roman goddess of the fountains.]

Surprisingly, George did not find a "use" option next to the book card.

After searching in vain, he simply left the card table and went back to sleep.

Because he stayed up late, George woke up a little later than usual the next morning.

Fortunately, I have already completed the resignation process at the nursing home, so my time is no longer restricted by the work schedule.

After a quick wash and breakfast, he set off for London.

He arrived at Lieutenant Bates's residence and knocked on the door for a long time, but no one answered.

After a moment's thought, George remembered that Bates might be at the fencing club where he worked.

He turned and headed toward the club located on the edge of the city.

As soon as I reached the club entrance, I heard a crisp metallic clanging sound coming from inside.

Pushing open the door, a smell mixed with sweat and leather hit me.

The spacious interior was covered with thick wooden floors, and several men dressed in fencing uniforms were practicing.

Meanwhile, Bates was talking to a young man holding a sword.

"Lieutenant," George called out.

Bates turned around, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes when she saw him, then nodded in acknowledgment: "George, what brings you here?"

"After we parted last night, I thought about it and realized there are some things I need to discuss with you in person."

George stepped forward and, after Bates had dismissed the young apprentice, continued:

"I've finished the resignation procedures at the nursing home. I'd like to take you to meet a colleague first, and then we can head to Yorkshire."

Bates straightened his cuffs, his tone crisp: "Perfect timing. I just settled my salary with the club, so I'm free of any ties. And who's that companion?"

"Elliot, whom I mentioned before, is my patient at the sanatorium and also the personal maid I will be hiring soon."

Under Bates's direct gaze, George gave a brief explanation.

"He used to be a sailor, and he's calm and reliable. You two might get along well."

The strange combination of patient, sailor, and male servant sparked a glint of interest in Bates' eyes.

"Sailors? I did have dealings with quite a few sailors when I served overseas."

The two then left the club together and took a carriage to the Saint-Simon Sanatorium.

Stepping back into the walled building, George no longer felt the oppressive atmosphere he once did.

He led Bates straight to a private room on the third floor, where Elliott was sitting quietly by the bed, looking out the window.

Hearing footsteps, he turned around and saw George and Bates push open the door and enter.

"Elliott, this is my friend, Lieutenant John Bates, who served in the Imperial Federation's overseas colonies," George introduced the two.

"Bates, this is William Eliot. He's a sailor, and he'll be discharged from the hospital soon after recovering."

Bates extended his hand, speaking calmly.

"Hello, sir. When I was overseas, I saw many ships sailing on the ocean and heard many stories about the sea."

When the sea was mentioned, some of the restraint in Elliott's eyes faded.

He also shook Bates's hand: "Yes, sir. I spent three years on the Messina and visited many ports."

"The 'Messina'...named after Julius, it must have been launched in the year the Legion and the Empire established diplomatic relations?" Bates raised an eyebrow.

"You're absolutely right!" Elliott's eyes lit up, and he began to speak freely. "It's no exaggeration to say that it was a ship no less excellent than a steamship..."

Bates listened quietly, occasionally adding a few words about his experiences abroad.

From the jungles of Bharata to the grasslands of Lesotho, the two chatted for nearly an hour in a very harmonious atmosphere.

George was very satisfied with what he saw.

After the two had finished their conversation, George agreed to leave two days later when Elliot was discharged from the hospital, and then he and Bates got up to say goodbye.

After leaving the sanatorium, George asked Bates what he thought of Elliott.

"A cautious and meticulous young man with good judgment, doctor."

Bates answered crisply and then got into the carriage.

"See you in two days. I'll be waiting for your call!"