The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1794

The possibility that Wynter was thinking she might die because she had entered a formation that was difficult to break through made Dalton's calm eyes deepen with thought.

In the night, he no longer appeared as pure and innocent as Wynter had seen him in the Wretched Ground.

He should have looked like an immortal, given his black hair, white robes, and fur-lined coat. But his striking features, combined with the faint Fankrit inscriptions around his neck, gave him an air of forbidden allure.

He stared directly at Wynter, then smiled. Entering the formation didn't necessarily mean death. He would ensure she remained unharmed if she was willing to stay for him. What was a formation if not something he could control?

Dalton admitted he wasn't acting like his usual self. Born from the refining flames, his sole purpose was to correct the Realms of Reincarnation. Now, to be told that all of this was just a formation—a fragment of someone's memory—made him feel like the world had turned upside down.

Wynter had no idea that Dalton would guess she had entered a formation. Normally, even if someone noticed her unusual behavior, they would assume she had taken over someone else's body. After all, no sane person would immediately guess it was a formation.

It wasn't that Wynter lacked caution, but Dalton was simply too perceptive. No wonder the heavens had cut his life short.

Not all the mystic spirits could grasp that Wynter intended to bear the heavenly punishment for Ailithir.

The spider, having lived for so long and noticing Dalton, who was always by Wynter's side, didn't immediately approach her to explain that heaven wasn't so easily deceived.

The impending heavenly punishment wasn't just targeting Mt. Nyxvarn, but the other major sects had shamelessly placed them at the forefront.

The spider wasn't worried about the villagers. After all, there were ways to relocate them.

But if heaven's punishment was directed at them, it meant they had committed sins. If they escaped now, the villagers' evil deeds would turn into resentful energy, attaching themselves to Wynter. This would make it difficult for her to ascend to the Sacred Path in the future.

After some thought, the spider waited until the mystic spirits had dispersed after Wynter's ritual before finding an opportunity to follow the two.

Dalton was the first to notice it, stopping abruptly under the parasol.

Wynter was still observing the mountain's layout. She was thinking about which cave would be safest to hide Ailithir.

"What's wrong?" Wynter looked in his direction after noticing his pause.

Dalton's expression remained unchanged. "Someone's following us."

"Who?" Wynter turned around but saw no one.

Dalton lowered his eyes. "This is a time-limited contract's downside—the master can't sense their mystic spirits."

Wynter understood immediately. It was one of the mountain's mystic spirits following them.

"Come out." Wynter sighed. She was increasingly aware of how much the mountain's spirits cared for her, as if she were their child.

The spider, Aranya, dragging its form, hesitated. It felt that it was acting inappropriately by following them like this.

Wynter stepped forward. "Is something wrong?"

Aranya nodded, then glanced at Dalton. The message was clear. It didn't want him to hear what it had to say.

Wynter understood, and so did Dalton. He smiled faintly, exuding an air of nobility. In truth, Dalton could guess what Aranya wanted to say.

Wynter's decision was clearly irrational. Relocating the villagers might save lives, but who would bear the resentful energy of their sins?

If he wasn't mistaken, Ailithir didn't have much time left.

Wynter intended to shoulder all of this. Naive, but perhaps naivety wasn't entirely bad. At least it was better than the hypocritical cultivators who preached righteousness.

Wynter saw no need to hide anything from him. "He's one of us, Aranya. It's fine. Go ahead."

Aranya had wanted to warn Wynter to be cautious of Dalton. Though he appeared to be an ordinary human, his energy was too unusual, almost as if he were connected to the Spirit King.

But hearing Wynter's words, Aranya didn't press further. It didn't want to disrupt the budding relationship between the two.

Dalton, however, showed a slight change in expression. "One of us?"

"Yes, one of us." Wynter patted him, signaling him to tone down his intimidating energy.

Even as a human, his fearlessness was too out of place. He needed to maintain his persona.

Dalton smiled. "Then, I'll leave you to talk. I'll take a look around."

How considerate. Wynter wondered if this was the advantage of dating a younger man. She appreciated his obedient expression.

In reality, Dalton wasn't idle. While he said he was looking around, he was actually stirring up trouble.

Aranya lowered her head, looking at Wynter, who seemed too small in comparison. "Little one, are you really going to defy heaven?

"You should understand better than anyone that life and death are fated, and no one can change that. Your sage's tribulation has come, and he should bear it himself. He wouldn't want you to risk yourself for him.

"And the villagers at the foot of the mountain—some of them may have already sown the seeds of their own destruction. Saving them would alter too many destinies, and heaven will not allow such interference. Do you understand?"

Wynter tilted her head, as if pondering Aranya's words.

After a moment, she smiled. "I understand everything you're saying. But I can't just stand by and watch my sage, my seniors, and all of you vanish into nothingness.

"If something happens to the villagers, all the retribution will fall on Mt. Nyxvarn. You've done nothing wrong, so why should you bear this burden? Especially when someone is deliberately causing this to seize these golden encounters."

Aranya knew Wynter couldn't be dissuaded. She had been protecting them and coldly dismissing other cultivators ever since she was a child. She had been different from everyone else in this world.

But Aranya still wanted to try. "What about your Primordial Arcane?"

"Since it's my Primordial Arcane, it should be up to me to decide," Wynter replied, her bright eyes and radiant smile carrying an unshakable calm.

Aranya was stunned. No cultivator had ever said something like that.

Aranya thought that perhaps they shouldn't judge Wynter by old standards anymore. She had grown up, surpassing everyone in excellence.

After the thunderstorm, the sky above Mt. Nyxvarn was clear, filled with countless stars. The Milky Way stretched across the night, and the moonlight shone brightly.

Dalton walked under the starry sky, holding the parasol. He had removed his fur coat, wearing only a light white shirt with his sleeves rolled up, making him look clean and sharp.

"I'll go now!" The malevolent spirit took two steps before turning back. "The cultivators on Mt. Nyxvarn won't think I'm a threat, will they?

"My lord, there's someone there who's really hard to deal with. She's a woman who loves diamonds. The last time I showed myself, she almost had the spider devour me."

Dalton glanced at the malevolent spirit. "She's not interested in someone like you."

The malevolent was speechless. That wasn't what it meant.

Dalton tossed the curved blade aside and picked up the parasol again. "I'll talk to her. She won't harm you."

"Ah, yes! My lord, do you… know her?" The malevolent spirit tilted its head, surrounded by black mist. It couldn't help but wonder how those two even met. How could Dalton tolerate a cultivator?

"I know her," Dalton said, taking a few steps before adding, "She's pursuing me."

The malevolent spirit nearly slipped. Wait, who was pursuing whom? This pair didn't even match! Dalton was too young for her!

But that wasn't the point. The key is, shouldn't Dalton be on the evil spirit's side? The malevolent spirit couldn't help but wonder how he could be so involved with a cultivator.

The spirit had a belly full of complaints, but it didn't dare utter a word.

It would do whatever Dalton commanded. And, of course, it wouldn't spread his words about being pursued—it would cause unrest among the evil spirits. But knowing such juicy gossip and not being able to share it was truly frustrating!

By the time Dalton returned, Wynter and Aranya had already finished their conversation.

Wynter stood there waiting for him, her lips curving slightly, as if she had not expected him to stay idle in the first place.

However, she was certain of one thing—he wouldn't harm her. Just like outside the formation, despite his mysterious identity and the many things she didn't know about him, he had always helped her, even lending her his fortune from time to time to suppress the resentful energy that plagued her.

Speaking of resentful energy, his spiritual form was still clean now, marked only by intricate Fankrit scripts, without the terrifying black mist.

Did that mean the countless, insurmountable resentful energy he carried outside the formation had accumulated later? Wynter couldn't help but wonder what he had done to incur so much resentful energy.

Wynter knew that only someone who had committed mass slaughter, like sacking a city, would bear such endless resentful energy in ancient times. The lingering resentment of the dead would cling to the perpetrator.

But Dalton didn't seem like someone who would commit such atrocities, especially now, as this fair-skinned, youthful boy.

"What did you do?" Wynter was always direct.

Dalton's lips curved, but he remained silent.

Wynter raised an eyebrow. "You smell like a malevolent spirit. Has no one ever told you that good-looking people shouldn't wander around at night?"

Perhaps because of the rain, his hair was even more disheveled now, loose and casual, yet strikingly handsome.

Hearing her words, he chuckled softly. "No one ever taught me that, but now I know. Are you worried about me?"

"What do you think?" Wynter's voice was low as she walked alongside him. "The mountain is chaotic right now. I'm not afraid of much, but where would I even find you if some malevolent deity takes a fancy to you?"

Dalton laughed, his smile even more radiant. "No one would dare take a fancy to me. I just helped you with some small tasks to make your plans for tomorrow easier, though some sects might not be too pleased…"