The Secret Cult Chronicles of the Decaying Lake Manor

George returned to his room as dawn approached and, with Elliot's help, changed into clothes that would allow him to move around more easily.

He wore a dark hunting coat, sturdy high boots, pockets filled with various potions, and a "Gleipnirlin" rune rope tied around his waist.

He took the golden sun amulet off his chest and handed it to Elliott.

"William, you keep this one," he said.

"Later, I'll be going to the woods with the Inspector, Bates, and that Ms. Celsa. You and Miss Kelly will switch shifts—you'll be in charge of the interior of the mansion, and she'll be in charge of the north quarantine zone."

"If anything unusual happens, deal with it immediately using the means you have at your disposal, and then send someone to the woods to notify us."

Elliott accepted the amulet and nodded solemnly, "Understood, young master. Please be careful."

George patted him on the shoulder and then went downstairs.

A simple breakfast was already laid out in the restaurant—bread, butter, boiled eggs, and hot tea.

This was specially prepared for everyone who was about to depart.

Inspector Douglas, Lieutenant Bates, and Ms. Celsa were already seated and eating quickly, clearly conserving their energy for the upcoming operation.

Inspector Douglas wore a thick, dark overcoat, while Lieutenant Bates was dressed in a neat civilian outfit resembling a military uniform.

Ms. Celsa changed into a work outfit: a dark, tight-fitting coat, culottes for easy movement, and sturdy leather boots.

She leaned her distinctive silver bird cane against the table, and next to her seat were several small bags—which looked like some kind of incense or medicine bottles.

"Are you ready?" the inspector asked, putting down his teacup.

"Anytime is fine," Bates stood up and grabbed the "ancient sword" that was placed to the side.

George stood up as well: "Let's go."

The four-man squad left the manor, driven by Lieutenant Bates, and drove along the gravel path of the manor toward the woods to the west, taking advantage of the dim light.

The roadside grass was still covered with morning dew, but George noticed that the flies that had been hovering around yesterday were almost nowhere to be seen—only a few remained, stiffly clinging to the leaves, as if they had lost all life.

"There are far fewer flies," Inspector Douglas noted. "I remember there were quite a few near the foyer when Ms. Celsa came last night."

"It might be because... the source itself is also moving," Bates analyzed in a low voice. "The monster is no longer near the lair, so the surrounding 'pollution' has weakened."

The carriage stopped at the edge of the woods.

The four got out of the car, with George leading the way, Bates and the inspector on either side, and Ms. Celsa in the middle.

"Direction?" the inspector asked.

"Go that way, I can feel the aura of 'breeding' getting stronger and stronger..." Ms. Celsa raised her hand to indicate.

The light inside the woods was dimmer than outside, with the tree canopy layered, and the morning sunlight could only filter through the gaps to cast dappled shadows.

They ventured deeper along a vague path, and George noticed something unusual about the surrounding vegetation.

The edges of the leaves of some shrubs have an unnatural yellowish-brown color, and black spots can occasionally be seen on the ground, as if they have been corroded by some kind of acidic liquid.

Moreover, there was a faint sweet and fishy smell in the humid air.

"This smell, of growth and decay," the masked woman, Celsa, suddenly spoke.

George nodded: "It's getting thicker."

They walked along the forest path, the fallen leaves rustling under their feet.

The trees grew denser, their canopies almost completely blocking out the sky, and the surrounding light became increasingly dim.

Suddenly, Bates stopped and raised a hand to signal everyone to stop.

"Listen," he whispered.

Everyone held their breath.

There is a strange buzzing sound in the forest—unlike the flapping of wings of ordinary insects, it is a lower, more viscous sound, as if countless tiny lives are resonating at the same frequency.

The sound came from not far ahead, and the four cautiously groped their way forward.

They arrived at a dense woodland, where the raised tree roots on the ground were a slight hindrance. Several tall oak trees formed a natural platform, and between them—

In the dim light of day, a huge, grayish-white, nest-like object hung in mid-air.

It resembles a giant beehive in the wild, but its shape is more irregular, and its surface is covered with holes and traces of slime.

Most disturbingly, several smaller, cocoon-like packages were hanging on the nest walls—some of which had broken open and were leaking a dark red liquid.

"This is..." the inspector said in a low voice.

"The breeding ground, the usual nest of the 'Lord of the Flies' retinue."

Ms. Celsa spoke, her voice no longer calm as before, but instead filled with a strange excitement.

Bates had already taken the shotgun off his back.

"It seems a little reminder is needed to let the host know that a guest has arrived."

He raised his gun and aimed at the grayish-white nest.

"Bang!"

Gunshots rang out in the silent forest, their echoes spreading outwards.

A hole blasted open on the surface of the nest, and a large amount of slime and debris splattered out, causing everyone to take a few steps back.

Immediately afterwards, a violent commotion erupted inside the nest.

"Buzzing—"

A chilling flapping sound suddenly erupted, and a large number of dark shadows poured out from the holes in the nest.

They were initially so densely packed that they were difficult to distinguish, but soon, everyone could see them clearly—

It's a fly.

The mutated fly was the size of a wasp, its body was an abnormal dark red, and its compound eyes shimmered with green light.

They emitted a piercing buzz and then swooped down on the ground like a torrential rain.

The inspector raised his equal-armed cross and chanted loudly, while George simultaneously raised his flute and rapidly played a series of sharp notes.

As the notes flowed with spirituality, an invisible wave spread outwards.

The mutated flies experienced a brief period of disarray in their flight paths, seemingly disrupted by some frequency. Their once orderly clusters scattered, and several even crashed straight into tree trunks.

The remaining lucky flies that managed to get close were also reduced to dust by the inspector's equal-armed cross.

Bates raised his gun again and aimed at a strange fly hovering in the air.

"Bang! Bang!"

Two shots rang out, and two flies were hit, falling to the ground and twitching.

But even more flies continued to emerge from the nest.

At the same time, a sharper and more penetrating buzzing sound came from deep within the nest, and a huge figure burst out from the crack in the nest.

It was tall and thin, with long, thin limbs, and wearing a tattered, dark burgundy nightgown.

The compound eyes on the giant mosquito's head gleamed with an eerie green light, and its long proboscis waved in the air.

Behind it, a pair of tattered wings were vibrating at an extremely high frequency, and new wings seemed to be growing, with oily gray-green edges.

Frederick de la Poll—or rather, the monster that was once Frederick—hung in mid-air, emitting a piercing screech.

"Don't get too close!" Ms. Celsa shouted, taking several exquisite incense bottles from her waist, lighting them, and throwing them forcefully in all directions.

The pale white smoke spread rapidly, carrying a spicy herbal aroma.

The mutated flies that came into contact with the smoke instantly froze and fell to the ground.

But the mosquito-headed monster was clearly unaffected by the smoke; it let out a sharp cry and actually plunged its hand into its own chest.

Then, a shower of filthy blood fell from the sky like rain.