The Secret Cult Chronicles of the Decaying Lake Manor

George bent down and picked up the newly formed key.

The instant his fingers touched the key, the card that appeared on the card table in his mind flashed into his mind—

[Master Key]

[Sexual characteristics: candle, stream, utensils]

A key that adapts to various locks, with a simple guide attached.

He gripped the key, took a deep breath, and stepped into the tower.

The stone steps were narrow, so he took out his amulet and infused it with spiritual energy, which served as a source of light.

The stone walls looked quite old, giving George the feeling of entering an unfamiliar ancient castle for an adventure.

At that moment, the key trembled slightly in his palm, as if it had a life of its own.

He placed the key flat in his hand, and the key spun around on its own, pointing down the stairs.

George followed the signs down the spiral staircase, which seemed to have no end.

Fortunately, after several dozen steps, a faint light finally appeared ahead.

The key pointed to a half-open door ahead, and light shone through the crack.

George's breathing quickened. He tiptoed closer and pushed the door open.

This is a study.

In stark contrast to the spacious study in the main house, this place felt quite cramped, with shelves opened directly from the walls to serve as bookshelves, crammed full of all sorts of books.

In the center of the room stood a small round table and two armchairs, with an open book on the table and a roaring fireplace burning without any kindling.

Good evening, young heir.

As George looked around, a shrill voice suddenly rang out.

He shoved his hand into his pocket, then turned around and saw a creature sitting on the bottom stack of books in the shadow of the bookshelf, its legs dangling in the air.

It was about the height of a ten-year-old child, wearing a finely made but slightly worn brown coat, but its eyes were large and bright, sparkling with a cunning light.

"I don't recall having a guest like this at the manor. May I ask why you're here?" George asked cautiously.

The short man jumped off the pile of books and walked into the lamplight.

Its face was wrinkled and its hair was gray and sparse, making it look like a miniature old man.

George inexplicably thought of the special effects creatures called "house-elves" in the Harry Potter movies he had seen in his previous life, which could also be "fairies".

"Nice to meet you. Let me introduce myself. I am a Boggart, you can call me 'Ston'—that's my name."

It spread its hands and bowed deeply, its movements as exaggerated yet polite as a circus announcer.

George could only respond with a polite, awkward laugh: "Boggart?"

Stone let out a series of giggles.

"Brownie? Grugach? Hobgoblin? Looks like you should read more books... Well then, just consider me some kind of 'fairy' or 'elf,' though that's not entirely accurate."

It added with that strange laugh, "In short, I am Viscount Edward de la Porte—your father—summoned from the third level of the Dream Realm, mainly to manage his knowledge collection here."

Stone raised his hand, rubbed his two long fingers together, and a slip of paper appeared in his hand.

"The Viscount mentioned his 'very promising' eldest son, so I recognized you when you came in."

He handed the note to George, who took it and glanced at it. It was roughly a statement from the Viscount confirming that Stone was indeed a summoned creature and was credible.

George then examined the creature who called himself Poggart.

"So, Father and Thomas all knew you were here?"

Stone nodded: "The Viscount is responsible for maintaining my connection with this place, while Thomas provides the daily 'recognition'—that is, the belief that I exist."

"Without the master's approval, I would have returned to the Dream Realm long ago." It blinked. "You'd better 'approve' of me now, or I'll soon become blurred."

George pondered for a moment.

He had already seen too many things beyond common sense, and while Boggart's existence was novel, it wasn't particularly difficult to accept.

Moreover, this creature may hold the key to unlocking the tower's secrets.

"I believe in your existence," he said. "Stand...Mr. or Madam?"

"Actually, just call him 'Ston,' our race doesn't have a traditional gender distinction."

Poghert's image seemed to become clearer instantly; his wrinkles smoothed out, and his eyes brightened.

"Very good, very good." It rubbed its hands together. "Well then, I can give you a tour—but if you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them first."

"I do have a lot of questions, like, are you the only one here... Bogot? How long have you been here?"

“Good question, but we can sit down first.” Stone gestured to the table and chairs, “Actually, as one of the hosts here, you have more authority than I do. It should be ‘you’ inviting ‘me’ to sit down.”

"That makes sense. Well then, Stone, let's sit down and talk." George sat down in a chair, his eyes fixed intently on Stone, who had settled in with satisfaction.

Stone sat down in another chair and said with a smile:

"Now, to answer your question. Actually, Mr. Carson could also come here, besides the Viscount and Thomas—though he probably hasn't been near here for several years."

George nodded, not surprised by Carson's aloof attitude towards the place.

"As for non-human beings... besides me, the Viscount has summoned quite a few Dreamland residents here and there, but now there may only be one 'Aos Sí' left."

"You mean 'Fairy Hill'?" George's heart skipped a beat as he recalled the two Fairy Hill Diamonds that his mother had allegedly left behind.

However, he still tried his best to maintain a normal expression, feigning "ordinary" curiosity: "Where can I meet this 'Fairy Hill Man'?"

"Actually, I can sense that she occasionally appears in this tower—for example, she should be inside the tower right now. But I'm not sure of her exact location because I've only been allowed to enter this library and the alchemy room inside the tower for the past five years."

Stone's answer further shocked George.

It's been five years again.

"Ston, what did you do five years ago that displeased your father?"

Stone seemed oblivious to George's change in mood, simply gazing at the sky and replying with a touch of melancholy:

"No, I would rather it was because of me, but actually it was because of your mother's unfortunate passing... I'm sorry, I hope this hasn't brought back bad memories for you."

Seeing Stone suddenly snap out of his reverie and become apologetic, George just wanted to lift his foot and shake it hard so that he would spill everything he knew.

But he knew he couldn't directly ask questions that might expose his own shortcomings.

"That's alright. What I'm more interested in is whether this is where Father and Mother studied and developed the path of the Respectful Lawyer together?"

George looked around at the shelves overflowing with books, his tone tinged with respect.

"People who know them say that my parents are a perfect match, and they support each other even in the realm beneath the surface of the world."