Heiress Unmasked: Shaking the World With Geomancy novel Chapter 2085

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About Heiress Unmasked: Shaking the World With Geomancy - Chapter 2085

Heiress Unmasked: Shaking the World With Geomancy is the best current series by the author Internet. The Chapter 2085 content below will immerse us in a world of love and hatred, where characters use every trick to achieve their goals without concern for the other half—only to regret it later. Please read chapter Chapter 2085 and stay updated with the next chapters of this series at nisfree.com.

Marcellus added, "If your reputation is tainted, even the courtesy title you now hold will be stripped from you. Father and Mother will see to it that you disappear. Do you understand?"

It was Serelith's second time realizing how cruel her family could be. She was undoubtedly related to them by blood, yet because she returned late, she had lost all value in their eyes.

A trace of grudge slowly seeped out, and it seemed to connect with the heavy gloom already hanging over Marcellus' courtyard.

However, the grudge from within the manor was far stronger, so Serelith's faint, hidden grudge went completely unnoticed.

Then, within the manor walls came the eerie sound of a man singing in a strange, broken lilt. His voice, affected and sharp, rang out.

"I am but filth among men… willing to descend to hell and have my nine tongues torn out…"

The strange melody and eerie lyrics sent a chill through everyone present, even those who had doubted the mystic master's credibility just moments ago.

As a family, they immediately recognized the voice. It was their eldest son, Marcellus.

While he had his reckless moments, he had always held disdain for the kinds of acts reserved for lowly performers. To hear him sing was truly unthinkable.

"It's here."

The mystic master, Gideon Vale, confidently lifted a foot and kicked open the door, striding into the room without pause.

Elysia and Maeric followed at once. The moment they laid eyes on the scene within, their vision dimmed.

Despite the biting cold, Marcellus wore nothing but a loose robe, its collar hanging open to reveal much of his bare chest.

He didn't seem to feel the chill, stumbling about the room, gulping down mouthfuls of winter air.

Even as the wind stung his throat, he rasped out a warped tune, fingers clawing at his neck in an eerie attempt to sing.

His appearance was unkempt—hair undone and falling past his shoulders. Yet his face was painted with an exquisite yet sultry makeup, adding a touch of grotesque femininity.

When the group burst through the door, he blinked at them, momentarily dazed. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his painted lips.