The Secret Cult Chronicles of the Decaying Lake Manor

Chapter 92 Epidemics and Flies (20) Epidemic Doctor

Before George could ask, Ms. Celsa revealed the answer herself.

"The one I worship is called the Plague Doctor." She uttered an unfamiliar name, "whose fame within the kingdom is perhaps comparable to that of the Lord of the Flies."

George echoed, "Plague doctor? I really don't know anything about this Sivi's secrets. It sounds like his field is related to disease?"

"Indeed, this is a Bloodline Master who oversees healing and disease control."

Ms. Celsa did not stop, but only slowed down her speech a little.

"He is also known as the Lord of Plague," a god who controls disease and brings life, and who is indestructible.

'

As the corridor rounded a bend, she abruptly changed the subject: "Beneath the surface of the world, the various departments are intricately connected due to their different domains of power. Some cooperate across similar domains, while others—are inherently incompatible. The 'Plague Doctor' and the 'Lord of the Flies' are examples of the latter."

The woman turned to look at George: "Just as doctors study poisons to understand antidotes, those who venerate the plague healer often see the extension of their own path through the study and deciphering of the Lord of the Flies' retinue."

George felt a weight lifted from his heart—all of Ms. Celsa's previous unusual behavior suddenly made sense.

Opposing seeking help from the Anti-Suppression Bureau, reacting to the Inspector's bombing of the Nest of Life, and obsessing over monster samples—all of these are attempts to study and confront the creations of the opposing Sivi.

Ms. Celsa skillfully put on the plague doctor's mask and gently pushed open the door.

The room was in a mess, just as he had seen before.

George watched as she took a silver flat box from her leather bag, retrieved tools, and quickly extracted several pieces of the transparent mucus from the inner wall of the pupa shell, storing them in a glass tube. She also scraped the crystalline substance from the edge of the mucus puddle on the carpet.

Finally, she even used a scalpel to cut a small piece of the textured, translucent outer skin from the pupa's shell.

"These are remnants of the metamorphosis," she said, her voice muffled by the mask.

After collecting the samples, she sealed each sample tube and carefully placed them back into the silver box.

"Next are the samples from the infected individuals."

She turned around and her gaze fell on George's face.

"For the patients in the north isolation area, I need their bodily fluids—saliva, tears, nasal mucus, and blood. Combined with the relief medication you previously prepared, this should be able to create a targeted antidote."

When they arrived at the quarantine area, Carson, the butler, was standing at the end of the corridor, looking haggard but still holding his back straight.

He was visibly startled when he saw George and a woman wearing a strange mask approaching, but his years of cultivated composure allowed him to immediately nod in greeting.

"Young Master, is there any new progress?" he asked in a low voice.

"There's progress," George said briefly. "This is Ms. Celsa, the High Court's representative. She will work with us to find a treatment plan."

"Take us to see the most seriously injured," Ms. Celsa said in a calm and resolute voice, inspiring confidence.

Carson bowed and led the two to the patient's location.

George walked forward and whispered something to Carson.

The group soon arrived at the room of a sick servant. The servant was in a daze, his face was flushed, his breathing was heavy, and the bright red rashes on his skin had begun to merge into patches.

Ms. Celsa approached the bedside and deftly took out a new set of glass tubes.

She first used a cotton swab to collect tears from the corner of the patient's eye while he was in a semi-comatose state, and then used a syringe to draw blood from a vein in his arm.

Next, she used cotton swabs to collect samples of nasal mucus and saliva.

She sealed the sample and turned to George: "Next."

George led her to the next few rooms.

The servants inside are in slightly different situations, none of them are seriously injured, but overall they are not in immediate danger of losing their lives.

Ms. Celsa repeated the same collection process in each room, while George observed silently, noticing that she always prioritized the areas with the most typical symptoms when collecting samples.

Inflamed mucous membranes, the most obvious areas of skin lesions, and the sweat of patients with high fever—these are clearly the judgments of an experienced person.

When she returned to the corridor, the silver box in her hand was already filled with more than a dozen sample tubes.

"We have enough samples," she said softly. "Next, we need your alchemy lab to combine the potions you've made before to find a solution for the effective drug."

George breathed a sigh of relief; it was a good thing that the lady hadn't gone to his uncle's side in the end.

Before leaving, he pulled the butler aside and instructed him to tell the guards on Elliott Island that the monster had been eliminated and that they could relax a little.

Back in the alchemy room on the third floor, the morning light had become bright and clear.

Ms. Celsa took out the sample tubes one by one and arranged them neatly on the long table according to their type.

Then she took out a thick black leather notebook from her bag, turned to a blank page, and began to take notes quickly.

"The symptoms include acute fever, polymorphic rash, and mucosal congestion—the incubation period is extremely short, with onset within hours—" she muttered to herself as she took notes. "It's a gender-biased infection, with more men affected—current remedies contain deep-sea pearl powder, which has broad-spectrum sedative and mild purifying effects—"

She looked at George: "You said before that besides pearl powder, what else is the main ingredient in this potion?"

George approached and picked up a bottle of the remaining product: "Brandy, distillate of several herbs, a small amount of spiritual guidance. The formula itself comes from an alchemist's interpretation of the Hermesian principles—primarily restoring balance."

Ms. Celsa's gaze lingered on the medicine bottle for a moment, then she nodded.

"The power of the Light Source Siwei has a good effect on the pollution of the Abyss, so alchemy is very helpful," she said.

"But the Fly King's breeding nature is even more insidious and savage; simply purifying it with the 'Mixed Wine' is insufficient. It requires both 'curbing its breeding' and 'reversing its decay.'"

She picked up a sample tube containing blood, held it up to the light, and gently shook the tube. There seemed to be extremely fine flocculent matter slowly floating in the blood.

"See those flocculent things?" she pointed to the test tube. "Those are remnants of the 'King Fly's' power, traces of its attempts to build a microbial cycle."

George leaned closer and indeed saw it.

"We need to disrupt these microcirculations while restoring the host's own life functions," Ms. Celsa said, putting down the test tube. "This requires the extraction or transformation of three substances."

She turned to the various vessels on the alchemy table.

First, the silver-salt complex—traditionally believed to inhibit the growth of impurities; second, specific strong oxidants that destroy the putrefactive components in the microcirculation; third—a touch of "healing" power is needed. She paused. "This substance can provide that."

She took out a small jade box from her bag, and inside was a small amount of grayish-white powder.

Next, the two began the intense preparation work in the alchemy room.

Ms. Celsa was clearly no stranger to alchemy, but her approach was more pragmatic—or rather, unorthodox.

Time passed quietly, and at noon, the sunlight outside the window became intense.

On the long table, a clear, pale blue liquid had settled in a glass flask, shimmering slightly with silver light.

"Give it a try." The excitement in Ms. Celsa's eyes was obvious.

George dropped a small amount of liquid into a sample tube.

The dark red blood reacted almost instantly upon contact with the pale blue liquid—the tiny flocculent particles began to dissolve.

This is exactly the reaction the two of them need.