The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1800

Wynter couldn't believe Dalton called himself a mortal. She had wanted him to keep a low profile, and he had been maintaining his persona well until today. She couldn't understand what was going on with him.

Yet, Dalton acted as if he hadn't noticed anything. He turned to look at her and said with a calm tone, "This place isn't as simple as it seems. Are you sure you want to bring an extra person?"

Wynter had also sensed the strangeness of this place. The miasma was too thick, filled not only with malevolent spirits but also venomous insects. In addition, the dead's lingering resentment energy hung in the air.

The formation was sinister, likely used for some sacrificial ritual. But it had clearly failed, leaving only the skulls behind. The roadside was littered with blackened, charred, leafless trees.

Wynter felt as though something was hiding in the shadows behind the trees, coldly watching them as if they were intruders.

She didn't let her guard down. "It's precisely because this place isn't simple that I need to bring him."

"Because he's a nobleman? Because of his status?" Dalton stood as if enveloped in the miasma, the white mist swirling around him.

Before Wynter could answer, someone nearby screamed, "Snakes! There are snakes! I saw one slithering past just now!"

It was a cultivator who had landed with them. He seemed to be in a trance as he muttered the same thing over and over.

"Snakes. There really are snakes. My sage said I would die by a snake's hand and told me to avoid them during training."

The other cultivators were unnerved by his behavior. After all, what kind of snake could frighten a cultivator? This place was feeling increasingly sinister by the second.

The remaining cultivators exchanged glances, wondering if they should retreat.

At that moment, Carlton tried to maintain order and spoke up. "Nonsense. What's so scary about snakes? Calm down, and keep moving forward."

Wynter could understand the language of beasts, including snakes. They were hissing, and there weren't just one or two of them—there were at least 100.

Wynter tried imagining the scene, and it was truly a living nightmare.

She didn't plan to waste time with Carlton and Jaylene. Moreover, the herb she was looking for wasn't here—it was in a place where snakes wouldn't appear. It seemed she would have to act alone.

"I'm not going," Wynter said, grabbing Dalton's wrist. "He's coming with me. Mr. Winston, do you want to join us?"

Coincidentally, "Logan" still had the same surname in this life.

He didn't hesitate. "Yes! I'll go with you!"

But Carlton disagreed. "Logan" was their sage's most cherished apprentice. Carlton wouldn't be able to explain himself to their sage if something happened to him while traveling with someone like Wynter.

"What are you talking about?" Carlton frowned. "Your status is special. Who will take responsibility if something happens while you just wander off with someone?"

"Logan" replied softly, "No one needs to take responsibility. We're all here to eliminate malevolent spirits and demons. It's not good to stick together the whole time. I'll go with Her Highness and take a different path. This path will be fine with you and Jaylene here."

Carlton wanted to say more, but "Logan" seemed determined, already standing behind Wynter.

Jaylene's tone changed when she saw this. "Wynter, you're as capable as ever. Even Raleigh wants to protect you. Well, with his help, you certainly won't return empty-handed."

Wynter wondered why they had so much nonsense to spout. With her other hand, she grabbed "Logan" and prepared to lead him and Dalton away.

But as she moved, Dalton's gaze fixed on her other hand.

At that moment, a putrid smell filled the air, and a swarm of venomous snakes surged out. They no longer hid in the shadows as they waited to strike. Instead, they hissed menacingly, their eyes locked on the dozen or so living humans. Clearly, they saw them as lunch.

Dalton didn't move, his face as handsome and noble as ever as he simply watched the scene unfold.

The others, on the other hand, weren't so composed. Despite being cultivators, they had never seen so many venomous snakes. They were clearly panicking, looking to Carlton for guidance.

Carlton, however, remained calm. He raised his sword and drew a Barrier Formation on the ground. This formation was specifically designed to ward off mystic spirits, imbued with the sword's energy. Once drawn, no mystic spirits would dare approach.

Wynter raised an eyebrow, murmuring, "Not entirely useless."

"Oh? You're underestimating these venomous snakes." Dalton's voice was like icy rain hitting porcelain—cold and crisp. "Such ordinary sword energy won't stop them."

Sure enough, the snakes paused for only a moment before becoming even more frenzied. They glowed a deep, blood-like red. If all of them attacked at once, these people wouldn't be enough to fill their stomachs.

Wynter knew the elders from Mt. Lunther were watching her. She couldn't reveal her true abilities in public. However, her plan was simple.

She lowered her voice. "You should have a way to handle this."

Wynter was talking to Dalton. Their whispered conversation went unheard by the others.

Even talented cultivators like Carlton and Jaylene were breaking out in cold sweat. Their sword energy could only hold for so long.

"These snakes aren't normal snakes!"

Of course they weren't. The muttering cultivator had already hinted at that. After all, why would a cultivator be reduced to such a state by ordinary snakes?

Wynter was still looking at Dalton.

Dalton's expression remained unchanged. "You must be joking. I'm just a mortal. What can I possibly do?"

This statement was true. After all, a group of unenlightened snakes wouldn't be able to detect his true nature.

Wynter knew he wasn't lying from his demeanor. She turned her gaze to the skulls nearby. "What is this formation suppressing?"

"I don't know," Dalton said casually, a hint of mischief in his tone. "Maybe something that turned into a demon. Who knows?"

That meant he did know.

Wynter leaned closer. "You don't seem clueless from the way you crushed that formation earlier. Will these snakes calm down if we release what's being suppressed in the formation?"

Though Wynter seemed unfocused, she had noticed everything.

Hearing her words, Dalton glanced at her. "The snakes might calm down, but I advise against it. These snakes won't attack you, so let's just leave. The others can fend for themselves."

Wynter sighed, looking at "Logan" beside her. "We can't leave it to fate this time."

"Then do as you please," Dalton said, his black eyes completely devoid of warmth. "But I'll remind you, releasing what's in the formation will cause big trouble."

Wynter smiled. "I like trouble."

Wynter had sneered as she endured the lashes on her back in her dreams, but she had no power to resist. And with her golden encounters stolen, she could no longer understand the mystic spirits' language.

None of that had happened yet, but Wynter's polite demeanor didn't mean she would forget her grudges. She would break the Human Sacrificial Formation, save those she needed to save, and settle her scores.

Actively seeking revenge might leave traces, but Wynter wouldn't let it slip when an opportunity like this presented itself.

Mt. Lunther, one of the four major sects, had done plenty of dirty deeds. It was time they faced the consequences!

Sure enough, a black mist shot into the sky as the demonic energy spread.

"I've been trapped in this tiny space, feeling the talismans' power slowly erode my body for 500 years! They wrapped around me like spiderwebs, making it hard to even move a finger. But they can't hold me any longer! Mt. Lunther, you'll pay for this!"

Carlton and Jaylene turned pale at these words.

The demon's voice wasn't just heard by the training disciples. Even Mt. Lunther's highest peak, Crimson Peak, was plunged into darkness. Such a phenomenon shouldn't have occurred on a sect's mountain, but the accumulation of resentment energy had created this retribution.

"Sage, it's... it's the Sablemare!"

"Who was so careless as to release it?"

"What's going on with those training apprentices?"

This had never happened before. After all, how could someone casually break a demon-suppressing formation?

In truth, Wynter's cultivation alone couldn't have done it. She had to thank Dalton for that one step he had made, which had created a crack in the formation. Wynter had simply taken advantage of it.

Dalton noticed this, his gaze returning to Wynter's face. He raised his eyebrow slightly, and his lips curved with amusement, a contrast to his earlier coldness. This was the first time he had encountered someone who used him so thoroughly.

"You've played the game well," Dalton said, standing tall beside Wynter. At some point, he had opened a folding parasol, his fingers pale and slender.

Wynter hadn't understood why he had brought a parasol initially, but now she did. In places like this, where strange phenomena and sudden thunderstorms were common, a parasol was necessary. With him around, she wouldn't get wet.

Wynter looked up at the sky. "Don't you think this is just retribution?"

"Mt. Lunther is going to have a headache. They probably won't be coming down to recruit dual cultivation partners anytime soon," Dalton said, then added, "But it won't be easy to suppress the Sablemare again once it is released. Are you prepared?"

Wynter was about to ask what she had to prepare for when the Sablemare descended along with the wind and rain, landing on the ground. Meanwhile, the venomous snakes stayed behind it.

The Sablemare looked every bit like a demon. Its face was pale and bloodless, and its nails black, with its eyes fixed on the cultivators before him.

"There are Mt. Lunther's disciples among you. I can smell it. I despise cultivators like you the most."

The Sablemare exuded black mist before rushing toward them with resentment. None of these young cultivators stood a chance.

Wynter turned to Dalton again. "Can't you handle this?"

Dalton looked into her eyes seriously, then turned away, his tone indifferent. "What gave you the impression that I'm omnipotent?"

How many times did he have to say it? He was just a mortal now.