The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1798

As Wynter's sage, Ailithir naturally knew her abilities.

He understood the true purpose of Terell and Jervis' visit without having to think too deeply—they were here for Wynter. Those who knew Ailithir understood that he was fiercely protective of his disciples. He would never let Wynter fall into danger, no matter what.

Ailithir didn't reveal too much, simply shaking his head with a smile. "Fellow cultivators, calm down. Would Mt. Nyxvarn be left without a successor if she truly could command mystic spirits? The sects tested her spiritual roots when she first came to the mountain. You should know what she's like."

These words gave Terell and Jervis pause. Both were elders of their respective sects, and while they couldn't make all the decisions, they were still sages.

It was true that the sects had tested her spiritual roots and found her potential lacking when Wynter first came to the mountain. That was why they had pushed her onto Ailithir.

After all, she was the Princess of Velmoria. Not accepting her would have been an insult to the royalty, but accepting her meant they had to teach her their rules. Yet, even as a child, Wynter had been difficult to handle.

She had no concept of respecting the elders and seemed to be able to see through people's facades. Hence, the sects had passed her around like a hot potato until she ended up with Ailithir.

But now, things were different. If someone truly could command mystic spirits, they had to belong to Mt. Lunther!

With this in mind, Terell's eyes narrowed. "Ailithir, how do you explain Mt. Nyxvarn's mystic spirits acknowledging a master if she doesn't have that ability?"

His tone grew more aggressive, driven by the tempting benefits behind this.

"It couldn't be you, could it? We all know your spiritual roots are mediocre, but we also know that gathering 81 mystic spirits and their spirit cores can transform one's body and lead to the Primordial Arcane. If you truly had this ability, why wouldn't you use it yourself?"

Ailithir sat upright, stroking his beard. "It's indeed not me. But you should know that Mt. Nyxvarn is full of golden encounters. This time, my disciple simply stumbled upon one. It won't work again."

This explanation was reasonable. After all, the reason they were eagerly awaiting Ailithir's demise was to covet the golden opportunities within Mt. Nyxvarn.

With the conversation reaching this point, they couldn't outright force their way.

Jervis, ever the strategist, set down his teacup. "Ailithir, it's just the two of us this time, but it might be other sects coming together next time. You won't be able to hold them off alone when that happens. Why not let the Princess of Velmoria come with Terell and me to Mt. Lunther? We can protect her."

When coercion failed, they switched to temptation. They sounded kind, but their true goal was Mt. Nyxvarn's mystic spirits.

Ailithir sipped his tea calmly, smiling. "I appreciate your kindness, but we'll take things one step at a time."

Terell's expression turned cold. "One step at a time? Ailithir, to put it bluntly, your spiritual roots are weak, and your time is running out. You won't be able to protect anything in the end. Instead of waiting for that moment, why not rely on Mt. Lunther now?"

This was a blatant insult to Mt. Nyxvarn. Over the years, Mt. Lunther had used similar methods to overtake other sects. But, unlike Mt. Nyxvarn, those sects had no history of producing sages that had walked the Sacred Path.

Ailithir, though appearing gentle, had a cold glint in his eyes. "Even with mediocre spiritual roots, I can still protect Mt. Nyxvarn. This mountain will never rely on any sect. If that's your intention, please leave."

"Stubborn," Terell said, standing and waving his sleeve. "Jervis and I came out of respect for our past friendship. If you won't listen, so be it."

In modern terms, it was like saying, "I'm only bullying you and offering a low price because we're old friends. It's for your own good."

Wynter, listening outside the door, smiled faintly. Her menacing presence was unmistakable as she pushed the door open. It wasn't a gentle push—the loud bang was impossible to ignore.

Wynter looked at the two "dignified" elders. "Do the other sects know you're trying to seize Mt. Nyxvarn's golden encounters? Oh, wait, let me rephrase that. Mt. Nyxvarn hasn't fallen yet. Aren't you afraid of heavenly retribution for forcibly taking what isn't yours?"

Her words left the room in stunned silence. This was indeed a taboo for high-level cultivators. Terell and Jervis exchanged glances, clearly displeased.

It was clear why Mt. Lunther had refused to accept Wynter back then. Years had passed, and whether in the Wretched Ground or elsewhere, she was just as unruly and disrespectful every time they saw her.

Compared to believing she could command mystic spirits, they preferred to think she had simply stumbled upon a golden encounter. After all, her spiritual roots and potential had been tested—they couldn't be faked.

"We're saying this for his sake. If he won't accept our help, he'll have to face the next heavenly thunder alone."

This was a real threat. Everyone in the cultivation world knew that another heavenly thunder would surely kill Ailithir with his spiritual roots.

In the past, they had helped him in exchange for golden encounters and elixirs. Though it was a small effort for them, they always demanded exorbitant prices. This time, they wanted Wynter and Mt. Nyxvarn's dignity in exchange.

Ailithir would never agree to such terms. He calmly said, "I won't see you out."

Terell, who had been making threats, seemed surprised that he wasn't intimidated. His face turned beet red as he waved his sleeve.

Jervis tried to smooth things over. "Ailithir, we'll talk another time. You might have a different perspective after the Arcane Way Forum."

The Arcane Way Forum was where sects would measure their strength.

Wynter watched their retreating figures, narrowing her eyes. They were really arrogant.

"Wynter, come here," Ailithir called from behind.

Wynter turned, her voice soft. "Mr. Glaisne."

The earlier confrontation seemed to have no effect on Ailithir. "I told you to hide your talent when you were young. Now that you've grown, some things can't be hidden. I know you don't want the mystic spirits on the mountain to die unjustly, but being too stubborn can lead to troubles."

Wynter was about to respond when Ailithit looked at her, his eyes gentle. "The things you've been doing lately—are they for my sake?"

Wynter was stunned. She thought she had hidden her intentions flawlessly.

Ailithir sighed, his hand resting on Wynter's hair. "You've grown so tall. I still remember how you were glaring at everyone when you first came to Mt. Nyxvarn. Yet, that had been just for show. In reality, you'd sneak to the mountaintop to watch the stars and feed leftover food to injured white foxes."

The tiny Wynter from his memories had grown up. Yet, he was still always worried.

"I've always worried about unnecessary things. My spiritual roots are mediocre, my spells aren't strong, and I never liked taking disciples in. Would you be lonely on the mountain? Would you be bullied outside if you carry Mt. Nyxvarn's name?"

Ailithir chuckled as he continued, "I thought about these things year after year. Thankfully, your seniors came along. They can protect you, and that puts me at ease."

Wynter couldn't describe the emotions swirling within her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Ailithir lowered his hand and interrupted, "So, don't try to stop me if the day comes."

Wynter's clenched hand loosened, then tightened again. "It's not about stopping you."

Ailithit looked at her with fondness and smiled again. "Do you remember what you called me when you first came to the mountain?"

Wynter nodded. "I remember."

She had called him Grandpa.

Ailithir's expression softened. "The mountain was even poorer back then. You must have suffered a lot by following me."

Wynter had started earning money from a young age, doing whatever she could to earn a living all because the path he cultivated was different from the traditional path.

He remembered carrying a basket of herbs down the mountain while she watched others eat ice cream, her eyes filled with longing.

When he bought her one, Wynter had held it up, saying, "Grandpa, you eat first."

As for Mt. Nyxvarn, its troubles had existed for a long time. It would indeed disrupt the natural order if Wynter wanted to save Ailithir.

Dalton glanced into the distance. "About the mystic spirits acknowledging a master, it's best to keep the details hidden. As Mr. Glaisne said, attribute it to golden encounters. After all, a human's heart is hard to predict."

Wynter agreed with Dalton regarding this.

…

Time passed quickly on Trinity Peak. Rumors spread across Mt. Nyxvarn about how favored Dalton was. After all, for three days, Wynter's hall hadn't seen anyone else. Inside and out, it was always Dalton.

Other cultivators visiting Mt. Nyxvarn also saw her taking him on training excursions. Though called training, it was more like visiting tea houses at the foot of the mountain or strolling through the nearest city's lantern festival.

In truth, she was setting up a Thunder Protection Formation. But others couldn't tell, and rumors about Wynter keeping boy toys grew louder. Though, this wasn't entirely a rumor since her hall indeed had them.

However, outsiders believed they were all coerced. On the other hand, Dalton, watching from the sidelines, saw things clearly. Those in her hall were eager to serve her.

Couldn't she wash her own grapes? Why did she always need to be fed? Dalton had initially left these tasks to others but eventually couldn't take it any longer and took them all upon himself.

"Do you really think the princess cares about you?"

The maids on the mountain couldn't stand his aloof demeanor.

"She's just after novelty."

Dalton ignored these comments, thinking they didn't matter.

That wasn't until three days later, when Wynter's gaze fell on a young nobleman from a prominent family at the foot of the sect's mountain. The Arcane Way Forum hadn't even begun yet.

Dalton raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanged, but his eyes shifted to the two figures conversing under the cherry tree.

Wynter had stopped because the young man was familiar—at least to the body she now inhabited. And there was another thing that caught her attention—his appearance was identical to Logan's.

"You once said you'd take me up the mountain. I told my father and have been waiting for you since," "Logan" said, his face slightly flushed, clearly smitten with Wynter.

His attendants whispered, "He only acts like this around the princess. He usually ignores everyone else."

Wynter felt a headache coming on. She looked at him, almost wanting to blurt out how pointless having a crush on her was.

But she had to maintain her persona. "Life on the mountain is too simple. You wouldn't be used to it."

"Logan" lowered his eyes, his handsome features soft. "I'll get used to it. I only came because I heard you'd be at the Arcane Way Forum. I even put aside my duties. I can help you during training."

Wynter was completely stunned. Had he forgotten that she had to protect him? In fact, he was her underling.

But no matter what Wynter thought internally, she couldn't say it aloud. She was trying to come up with a different response.

However, from Dalton's perspective, it looked like mutual affection. After all, he had never seen her hesitate before.

Dalton recalled the words he had overheard on the mountain—how Wynter was only after novelty.

He had seen the mystic mirror by her chaise lounge and witnessed many scenes. He knew better than anyone how quickly she changed companions.

But could she really grow tired of him in just three to five days? That was unlikely. Or perhaps this young nobleman was special to her.