The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1753

The Malone family would never rise again.

Some people had tried to suppress the news with money, but it was practically impossible.

In the banquet hall, everyone was glued to their phones, and when their gazes returned to Lenny and Medwyn, they were filled with unforgiving disdain. Meanwhile, Leanan had yet to comprehend what was unfolding.

A few media professionals, driven by a strong sense of justice, shouted openly, "Pay with your lives! Not just the Malone family, but the so-called cultivator who helped them should pay the price, too!"

Leanan's brows furrowed deeply as he prepared to refute, but his disciple tugged at his sleeve from behind.

"Mr. Uselton, the situation online is really bad."

"That still doesn't justify siding with an evil spirit to claim the lives of the living!" Leanan scolded sharply. "Medwyn is indeed wrong, but his mistakes will be dealt with by our sect.

"A spirit that has already turned into a specter should be eliminated, not assisted! That goes against the heavenly law!"

Wyntyer sneered. "Who's truly evil here? I've had enough of your sanctimonious talk."

Turning her head slightly, she added, "Sylvia, do whatever you want."

Someone like Medwyn deserved to die a thousand times over. He hadn't just used Sylvia to refine souls, but other resentful spirits had suffered at his hands, too. Now, with Leo clinging onto him, it was the perfect moment for those wronged to claim justice.

Outside the hall, black clouds gathered, lightning cracked across the sky, and thunder rumbled ominously. Inside, the long banquet table quivered, and some of the lights dimmed.

Medwyn, recognizing the rising fury of the spirits he had once suppressed, slid to his knees in terror and crawled toward Leanan, his eyes wide with fear.

"Mr. Uselton, save me! They're going to tear my soul apart!"

Leanan knew this was Medwyn's fault. If it had been anyone else, he might have accepted it, but this was the person he had personally brought to the mountain and raised with care. Medwyn was different.

There was no way he could stand idly by and watch as his soul was torn apart by evil spirits, leaving him forever unable to walk the path of cultivation again.

Thus, Leanan made his move. With a wave of his artifact, he stepped forward.

"I'll see who dares approach! Dust returns to dust, earth to earth. How dare you commit such atrocities? Do you not fear retribution from the spirit wardens? If you advance, I'll strike and scatter your souls into nothingness!"

As a skilled cultivator, Leanan's strength was evident. His presence alone instilled fear in the spirits, preventing them from getting close.

Only Sylvia, with her immense resentment, could withstand his artifact. Yet, each step forward was akin to walking through fire and brimstone.

Leo widened his eyes in alarm and shouted, "Master!"

Before Sylvia could reach Leanan, Wynter stepped forward, positioning herself in front of the evil spirits. She raised her right hand slightly and gazed down.

Leo knew she was about to draw her sword. But he also knew that if Wynter revealed herself now, the hidden old cultivator would remain in the shadows, unexposed!

Who could have predicted that the renowned Leanan, famed for upholding justice, would protect a disciple who had utterly strayed from the path?

Leo panicked. Drawing that sword would surely invoke heavenly punishment! Without Dalton around, who would provide her with purple energy to withstand the backlash?

Just as Leo prepared to leap from Medwyn's shoulder, an enraged and booming voice echoed from afar. "Leanan, you old coot! Who do you think you're attacking? Bullying a young girl—how shameless!"

As the newcomer spoke, he curved his finger and declared, "Form ranks! Take formation!"

The artifact protecting Leanan fell. Without his artifact, he spat out a mouthful of blood.

Wynter quietly lowered her hand. No one noticed the Soul Commanding Badge that could command a legion of spirits, nor the sword capable of cleaving anything in its path.

She simply stood there, appearing like a wandering cultivator with no abilities. After all, that was the truth—she relied solely on her physical prowess.

Leanan was supported by someone after being injured. He looked at the newcomer and asked angrily, "Kaspar, what's the meaning of this?"

Kaspar? The media and the Chamber of Commerce members exchanged glances in astonishment.

It truly was the legendary Kaspar! Some attendees instinctively reached for their cameras, only to find their devices malfunctioning.

Kaspar appeared far more vibrant and youthful than the rumors suggested, looking nothing like someone over a century old. It was said he was the most likely candidate to achieve the rank of a grand master—a claim many had dismissed as an exaggeration until seeing him in person.

The rejuvenating effects of cultivation became undeniable as they observed his youthful face. Even his gait exuded power and authority, his every step confident and commanding.

A few businesspeople were eager to establish connections. One boldly called out, "Mr. Stavius—"

But Kaspar walked right past him, heading straight to Wynter's side. Turning his sharp gaze toward Leanan, his disdain was palpable as he sneered.

"Leanan, after all these years, you've certainly lived up to expectations—aging in years but not in wisdom. No, wait, that's not entirely true.

"After all, Mt. Verfait had managed to produce such a sinister cultivator who harms both others and himself. Yet, here you are, shielding him.

"Bullying someone who hasn't even formally trained in the Arcane Way? As a fellow cultivator, I'm embarrassed for you. No wonder you've failed to grasp the Primordial Arcane!"

Among those present, there weren't just members of Mt. Verfait but also other prominent cultivators.

"Mr. Uselton, you need to explain to them. We truly had no knowledge of the Malone family's true nature."

"I didn't notice anything amiss when I read his fortune."

This wasn't entirely false. After all, none of the cultivators present had detected anything unusual about the Malone family.

This would mean that he had not done evil, but that was impossible—the evidence was right in front of him. There could only be one explanation—someone had concealed his true nature. But who could have such power?

Wynter had long thought of this. She was here today to settle scores and avenge the wrongs done to others. Everything else could wait.

"Not every member of Mt. Verfait is like this, but the trouble was caused by your sect. Simply saying that your sect will handle it is not enough.

"I'll also remind you that anyone who helped the Malone family should not expect to gain anything from their ancestors' merits to improve your cultivation. Sylvia, go ahead and do what you need to."

This time, no one shielded Medwyn.

Leanan realized that he could no longer defend him, but he still tried again. "A formation will form once the curse is unleashed. Kaspar, are you really not stopping her?"

Kaspar chuckled. "Do you think I can stop her? Besides, why would I? Many here deserve punishment, including you. If this specter succeeds in avenging its victims, you won't have a peaceful life, either."

Leanan's expression changed with his words. "Then you should think of Wynter. These specters were summoned by her demonic manifestation. The resentful energy caused by the specters may double and fall upon her."

Kaspar paused, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. But he knew he could not persuade Wynter.

Sylvia's hand had already reached out toward Medwyn.

Medwyn attempted to use his spells to resist, but without Leanan's protection, his spells were useless. His neck was gripped tightly, while other souls of the wronged tore at him. Ordinary people could not see this, but the cultivators in the room understood.

This was soul-tearing. The person might still be alive, but their soul would be lost forever—having to live the rest of their lives without consciousness and unable to cultivate again.

Medwyn was writhing on the ground, clutching his head in agony. He had lost his sanity, trembling and screaming in pain.

Meanwhile, Lenny was hiding under the table, shivering uncontrollably. Neither of them was left unscathed.

Even the life on Leanan's face seemed to dim. He had thought that Wynter would face divine retribution. What he didn't expect was that she had a shield of merit protecting her—merit granted by the very spirits around her!

"This… How is this possible?" Leanan staggered backward, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"Mr. Uselotn! Your Arcane mind… has it been destroyed?" one of his disciples asked.