The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1836

Cascadia? Was that where she came from?

Dalton had never heard of such a nation, but that didn't hinder his understanding. Following her train of thought, it was clearly the land they were standing on now, just under a different name.

And after observing her, he'd pieced together more. If their world was one vast Earthbound Formation, then she must have hailed from a distant future. Her speech alone betrayed that much.

However, he had no intention of letting her return.

Dalton's thumb brushed lightly over his fingertips, as if savoring the ghost of her touch. His dark eyes were fixed on Wynter as a viscous and unspoken emotion festered beneath the surface.

But Wynter's focus remained on the face, Mirel. Clues that had reached a dead-end outside the formation might unravel easily here.

She paid no mind to the sect's reactions as she yanked Mirel closer. "Tell me where Isidore's soul fragments are, and I'll spare your life. I'll allow you to crawl back to your... country."

Mirel now revealed its true form. Its features were starkly foreign compared to native icons. Its eyes rolled unnaturally as its pupils darted around like a specter's.

"I-I don't know! He merely brought me here!" Its lips moved, exposing rows of blackened teeth. "He said this land was rich in spiritual energy! All I had to do was teach them how to absorb offerings, and he'd ensure I thrived better here than back home!"

Wynter wasn't buying it. With a humorless smile, she hoisted it higher. "Moments ago, you claimed divinity. Now you dare plead ignorance? Isn't it too late for that?"

Mirel finally grasped how little Wynter revered its so-called sanctity. She truly didn't fear a thing. It quickly understood that if it didn't say something useful, it would truly perish in this foreign land.

Its reason for coming to Cascadia was simple. It had once encountered a highly enlightened monk from Cascadia, and just by observing his attire and speech, it had figured that Cascadia was an incredibly rich nation. If its homeland could absorb Cascadia's fortune, they would surely thrive.

So, its mission had been to spread the Mystic Path into Cascadia and convert its people into their followers. For that, it had struck a deal with Isidore and done many things for him over the years.

Mirel then recounted everything—from how it met Isidore to how Isidore spent decades gathering followers.

Wynter listened, raising an eyebrow slightly but showing no other reaction.

The others, however, were deeply shaken. If what Mirel said was true, Isidore's ambitions stretched far beyond Mt. Lunther. He wanted the entire cultivation world kneeling at his feet.

"You served him for 20 years. Are you telling me no one noticed this whole time?" Wynter found this too suspicious.

There was no way a sinister being like this could have gone completely unnoticed in Mt. Lunther. Isidore might be meticulous, but gaps existed—unless someone shielded him.

Her gaze sliced toward the elders. Whoever had protected Isidore was clearly benefiting from him. And for someone to tolerate the existence of such an evil being, the rewards they received must have been beyond imagination.

Unaware of her deductions, Mirel's eyes darted away. "A few discovered us, but Isidore dealt with them. Only Lemoine posed a real challenge, but... Isidore persuaded him before taking his place."

"Oh?" Wynter smirked, her gaze sharp. "So, according to you, everyone in Mt. Lunther despises your presence."

Meril nodded. "Of course. I am not one of your native gods after all."

"Then why aren't you looking at those elders when you say that?" Wynter suddenly tightened her grip and yanked Mirel up even higher. "I don't care what Mt. Lunther has done with you in the past. What I care about is the real question—where is Isidore's soul fragment?"

Mirel didn't expect Wynter to be such a hassle to deal with. Subconsciously, its gaze drifted toward one of the elders in the crowd. It was desperately hoping that person would provide an answer.

It hadn't expected that just one glance would completely expose the other party.

Wynter immediately flung it away and moved swiftly, allowing no time for reaction, appearing right in front of one of the sages.

"Why do you keep looking at Mr. Dolph? Are you hoping he'll give you an answer?" Wynter's tone was casual. "What is your relationship with him?"

That question was like a direct slap to Terell's face.

Mt. Lunther's sages all had their own issues and hidden agendas. Otherwise, things wouldn't have spiraled into such deep resentment. For years, they had stood too high above others. They expected compensation for every process and left no opportunities for ordinary people to rise.

Terell was the perfect example. Just by looking at how he barged into Mt. Nyxvarn in the past, it was clear how much he enjoyed fawning over the strong and stepping on the weak.

He never saw those weaker than him as worthy. To him, it was only a matter of time before Mt. Nyxvarn was swallowed whole by Mt. Lunther. Hence, he had always been dismissive toward Mt. Nyxvarn.

But now, Wynter had thrown Mt. Lunther into complete chaos.

The various sects' sages were still present. If they became convinced that Terell was involved with Mirel, his path as a cultivator would be completely ruined.

"What relationship could we possibly have?" Terell sneered. "This thing was brought back by Isidore. Is Mt. Nyxvarn pinning this on me now?"

Wynter glanced at him playfully. "It's fine if you don't want to admit it. I have ways of making it tell the truth."

As she spoke, she lifted her spiritual sword once again. "They say in your faith that the devotee's faith and the worshipped are intertwined. I wonder if that's true. If it shatters, then the one who made a pact with it—whoever they may be—will meet a miserable end."

She was truly about to pierce through Mirel. The swift slash of her blade whistled through the air.

Mirel opened its mouth, its gaze locking onto Terell. "Why are you just standing there? Are you really going to watch me die? You won't fare any better if I die! And Isidore—he was the one who brought me here! He promised me unparalleled devotion! How could you people treat me this way?"

Wynter's sword stopped right in front of Mirel's face just as it spoke.

Terell's face turned red in fury. His earlier words now felt like a slap to his own face.

Wynter smiled faintly. "Mr. Dolph, shall we talk now? How deep are you entangled with Isidore? He was able to move freely within Mt. Lunther, thanks to you. Otherwise, there's no way he could have remained undiscovered for this long on his own."

The sages all turned their gazes to Terell. Until now, they had all focused solely on Isidore, never considering that Mt. Lunther might still have hidden players.

Terell no longer bothered pretending. His expression darkened as he stared at Wynter, and then suddenly, he spoke words that caught everyone off guard.

"Who are you? Why are you so obsessed with tearing down Mt. Lunther? You are not the foolish Princess of Velmoria who only knows how to keep a harem of men.

"That woman would never think this far ahead. She wouldn't have been able to break the formation in Granville Village, let alone grasp fortune bonds!

"Everyone in the sects knows how trash your spiritual root is. You couldn't even ride magical brooms before. But after one trip to the Wretched Ground, you suddenly know everything. Does that seem normal to you?

"And how did you make the Heavenly Derivation recognize you as its heir? Who are you, really?"

The moment Terell's words sounded, the atmosphere turned icy cold.

The other sages were not easily fooled. They hadn't thought much of it before, but now that it had been pointed out, all eyes fell on Wynter.

Avianna instinctively spoke. "Sorry, we're already closed. Please come back tomorrow."

The black-robed figure gave no response, simply stepping forward. The sound of his leather shoes against the floor wasn't particularly loud, but in the dead silence of the night, it felt deafening.

"Sir?" Avianna called again, her voice trembling slightly. It was late, and being alone made her uneasy.

The black-robed figure finally halted, stopping a few steps away from her. As the moonlight touched his face, Avianna caught sight of his eyes. It was dark as ink, like a bottomless abyss, threatening to swallow her whole.

He spoke slowly. "Could you do me a favor?"

Avianna gulped. "What favor?"

The man reached into his robe and pulled out a book, extending it to her. "Help me read what's written in this book."

She took it and glanced at the cover. It was pristine, without a title.

Puzzled, she flipped open the first page—and immediately froze in panic. Her hands trembled, and the book slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a thud.

The man chuckled, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth. "How do you like the Book of Death?"

All of a sudden, the overhead lights began flickering. In the erratic glow, Avianna noticed in terror that the black-robed figure's shadow was twisting and writhing, like a mass of squirming darkness.

The front desk's bell jingled despite the stillness of the air.

Avianna turned and bolted. She could hear the footsteps behind her steadily closing in, accompanied by an eerie, bone-chilling voice.

The aisles between the bookshelves seemed to stretch endlessly. She ran with all her might, but the exit only seemed to drift further away.

A sharp pain suddenly shot through her chest. Her body weakened, turning pale.

"Help!" She tried to scream, but something clogged her throat, stifling her voice.

The man had already reached her side. An overwhelming sense of suffocation enveloped her. She wanted to move and resist—but her body refused to obey.

Holding the book in one hand, the black-robed figure gazed down at her. "You should feel honored to be of service to my lord."

He had discovered Avianna through an extensive search and realized she had a rare constitution.

Trembling violently, Avianna pleaded, "Please… let me go."

There was no mercy in the man's eyes as he lifted his palm, pressing it toward her forehead.

A surge of dark energy poured into her body. Avianna's vision blurred, and within moments, she collapsed into unconsciousness.

Effortlessly, the black-robed figure hoisted her onto his back and strode toward the entrance.

By the time he stepped through the doors, the library had been restored to its original state, as if he had never been there. Only Avianna had disappeared. Even the security cameras within the library recorded nothing.