The Secret Cult Chronicles of the Decaying Lake Manor

Chapter 96 The True Origin of the Family

Within moments, Frederick's body began to convulse violently in the flames.

Like Icarus in mythology who approached the sun with wax wings and was thus tainted by celestial fire, his younger brother's translucent, fragmented insect wings curled up in the fire.

"Zheng—!!"

George struck the two short swords together again.

The clear, metallic clang echoed in the ceremonial chamber, intertwining with the viscount's deep chant to create a strange rhythm.

[So He sent His messenger down with fire and spirit; the God who responds with fire is the true God.]

As soon as he finished speaking, the Viscount snapped his fingers crisply.

"despair!"

The sound was exceptionally clear in the empty ceremony room, as if a signal had been triggered.

In an instant, a stream of molten gold light burst forth from the center of the mirror-like ceiling, and a colossal figure slowly descended.

It was a bull with a strong and powerful physique.

Its entire body was made of golden light, and its two crystal-clear horns were crackling with dazzling electric light.

A pair of enormous, burning eyes looked down on everything in the ritual chamber. It strolled down from the sky, landed silently beside Frederick, and then knelt down on its front knee.

His head was bowed, positioned precisely between the Viscount and Frederick.

The viscount waved his hand again, and several pottery jars on the walls of the ceremonial room suddenly shattered.

What surges forth is blood... no, it's a deep red wine liquid, as red as blood.

Perhaps in accordance with the Viscount's will, the wine flowed on the invisible river, converging towards the Bull of Light. As it approached the bull, a wondrous transformation occurred; it turned into flesh and blood, merging into the bull's originally illusory body.

The fusion of light and flesh made this originally pure light creature more detailed and realistic, with hair and texture appearing.

The Viscount extended his finger and probed the still-burning bluish-white flame on Frederick's forehead.

The flames were hot, but they didn't burn his fingers.

On the contrary, the flames seemed to have their own will, obediently wrapping around his fingertips and tinging him with the same glow.

Until the flames ignited the Viscount's entire palm, he knelt down on one knee and reached out to smear the bull's neck.

"laugh""

A cluster of flames leaped from the dewlap of the bull's neck and spread along its body.

The Bull of Light raised its head and let out a low moo, then George saw that its throat had been slit open.

The rift spewed out a liquid with an intoxicating fragrance, filling the entire ceremonial room with its rich aroma.

Large swaths of this "blood wine" spilled onto the ground, then, as if alive, meandered through the air and converged toward the struggling Frederick, eventually enveloping him completely.

Flames, liquid, and light—the three merged in a strange way.

Frederick's body ceased struggling within the package, and the flames solidified.

He lay motionless on the black stone slab, his body covered by a layer of translucent crystals, leaving only a blurry human outline.

At least the mouthparts were gone, which gave George some comfort.

The moment the flames appeared, he thought the viscount was going to burn his adopted brother alive.

The entire ceremonial room fell silent once more.

With a gentle wave of his hand, the viscount caused the golden light to fade from the dome, and the bull formed from light and wine was burned to ashes.

The ceremonial room was left with only the lamplight and the faint glow remaining in the niche, as well as the Viscount, George, and the figure encased in crystal on the stone slab.

The Viscount turned to look at George and nodded slightly.

George understood and lowered the two short swords in his hands.

He took the opportunity to focus his consciousness on the card table in his mind and discovered that there was an extra card on the table.

It was the card containing those two short swords.

【Capitolina Remains】

[Sexual characteristics: Candle, Star, Utensils]

The Iron River sheltered the ancient swords hidden by the rebels of the Holy City; these resolute words of change still resonate powerfully today.

George left the card table and saw the Viscount retracting the two cubes from mid-air.

"Father?" George's voice echoed in the empty ceremonial room.

The viscount turned around.

His earlier fervor had subsided, his face had returned to its sickly pallor, and his hair seemed to have become lighter in color.

"Fred needs time," the Viscount said, his voice slightly hoarse. "His body will return to normal in three hours."

"and then?"

"Then he will wake up, but he may remember nothing, or he may remember everything." The Viscount sighed. "I sincerely hope it's the former."

George paused for a moment, then looked at the figure encased in crystals on the stone slab.

"Let's go to the library," the Viscount broke the silence. "It's time to tell you something."

The two left the sculptural crystal in place and ascended the spiral staircase, passing through the tower's corridors.

The viscount walked slowly, each step appearing quite heavy, with George following beside him, pondering the intelligence he had gathered over the past few days.

He didn't stop thinking until the library door slid open in front of the Viscount.

The interior was exactly the same as when George last visited, except that Stone was not there.

The Viscount walked to the high-backed armchair behind the desk and sat down, gesturing for George to sit opposite him.

Two steaming cups of tea appeared out of nowhere on the table.

George picked up the teacup, feeling the warmth of his palm.

"Do you remember your family's origins?"

The Viscount spoke first, his voice standing out clearly in the quiet library.

George pondered for a moment, then drew upon his knowledge of heraldry and family history from his time at public school.

"The Delaporte family can be traced back to the Norman Conquest, but they acquired their noble titles centuries later. The family's glory began with Baron Roger Delaporte, who was granted land for his loyalty to the royal family."

"His descendant, Henry de la Porte, ... if I remember correctly, was granted the title of 1st Viscount of the Lake by King George at the beginning of this century for his outstanding achievements, with lands in the Lake and several surrounding towns. The family has continued to this day, and the title has now passed to you."

The Viscount nodded slowly, but his expression made George feel that what he said was not the whole truth.

"That's what the official records say," the Viscount said in a low voice, "but history books can hardly record the whole truth."

He raised his eyes and looked directly at George: "The true origins of the Delaporte family are closely related to the famous war in the history of the Kingdom of Britta—the War of the Roses—I mean the final chapter of that rebellion."

George seemed to recall something from the dusty memories left behind by the original owner.

The Wars of the Roses, a decades-long struggle for the throne, a bloody contest between the House of Lancaster and the House of York... ultimately ended with Henry Tudor of the House of Lancaster unifying the country and beginning the Tudor dynasty.

"John Delaporrow, Earl of Lincoln." The viscount uttered the name, and George inexplicably sensed that the viscount was gritting his teeth.

"He was one of the heirs of House York and instigated the final rebellion at the end of the Wars of the Roses."

George quickly pieced together the information.

John de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln... This name does appear in history textbooks, but mostly only briefly, recorded as a loser of a rebellion.

"But wasn't he misled?" George asked tentatively. "History records that he raised an army out of ambition, and ultimately suffered defeat and death..."