The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1810

Worse still, Wynter told him that they had to stop the ritual.

Dalton responded with silence. Never before had his gaze been so cold and indifferent, as though the situation didn't concern him.

Wynter took a step forward, expecting Dalton to follow. When she failed to sense his presence, she turned to find him standing in the shadows, his expression unreadable.

The dim light obscured his handsome face, but the air around him had noticeably shifted. His figure loomed within the black mist, and his pale wrist seemed to glow against the surrounding darkness.

If there were a term to describe the current Dalton, it would be the Demon King who rose from the underworld. Despite his elegant and harmless appearance, he was far crueler than anyone else. Even with a parasol in hand, he seemed completely stripped of humanity.

Wynter couldn't read Dalton's thoughts, but from her understanding, she knew he was angry. Yet, she couldn't make sense of his fury. She wanted to pull him aside for a private conversation, but she had no time to spare—the ritual had begun.

Realizing that Dalton wouldn't intervene, Julio grew more excited and bolder. Meanwhile, the other villagers gathered around the bonfire to form an Arcane diagram as soft prayers filled the air.

"Oh, Lord Onuruth, great god to whom I place my faith. I humbly present this sacrifice to you. May you find favor in it and accept it with grace."

With those words, Julio threw the golden parchment into the air before lighting three ritual candles. The golden parchment turned out to be the underworld's currency. As for the ritual candles, Wynter had spotted them earlier in Desiree's house.

Clearly, no god would answer through candles soaked in human oil. Instead, a demon would be summoned.

However, the villagers seemed even more thrilled by the sight of the golden parchment dancing in the air. It was the first time they had seen it fly like that. Could they finally be freed from their suffering?

The villagers, their faces twisted in fanatical devotion, fervently prayed to the bound Raleigh, hoping that the "god" would descend and take control of his body.

The look in Wynter's eyes shifted as she clenched her fists.

Desiree, who hid within the purple sugilite pendant, advised worriedly, "You can't go any closer, Lady Wynter. Y-Your servant was right. This is the wish of every spirit in the village. Anyone who intervenes would bear personal burdens."

She continued in a low voice, "I was the one who kept them from passing into the afterlife. They were forced to endure endless torments. Some villagers had long lost their bodies, yet they still believed they were alive.

"I could keep them under control at first, but over time, they stopped listening to my commands on matters of great importance. Moreover, they had formed into the Grim Spirit Formation, something beyond the grandmasters' ability to dispel.

"Their only desire now is to escape, and Lord Onuruth had promised them freedom—only if they could offer someone with a truly rare constitution. That young man is just unlucky."

Desiree's words were filled with concern for Wynter, not wanting her to fall into harm's way. Desiree advised, "If neither you nor your servant intervene, you won't have to face divine retribution or risk losing your fortune."

Wynter understood her concern and appreciated the warning. "Bad luck, perhaps, but that young man is my friend. I can't just leave him," she replied resolutely.

Those familiar with Wynter knew that she was no saint and wouldn't just save anyone. After all, a smart man wouldn't dance with danger. That said, she wouldn't hesitate to save her friends, the vulnerable, or those with noble hearts.

Besides, Raleigh might really be Logan's pre-incarnation. If the mastermind consumed his soul, Logan would cease to exist, and the Sacrificial Human Formation would be completed. By then, Wynter would be trapped in the formation forever, unable to return to the real world.

Despite the people who loved her in the formation, she never lost sight of why she entered the Sacrificial Human Formation in the first place—to stop the spread of evil.

There were still people waiting for her in the real world. Her family, her fiancé, her unit members, and the chamber Gordon entrusted to her... she couldn't just stay there doing nothing.

"Please cover for me," Wynter said. Her cultivation path was far from ordinary. As Dalton once commented, she probably carried a demonic manifestation.

Likewise, her swordsmanship wasn't as delicate as the other cultivators, for she drew on the power of vengeful souls and mystic spirits. When she unsheathed her sword, the whole village trembled.

While the cultivators remained unaware, the villagers turned to Wynter with twisted, demonic faces. Their eyes glowed white, and their fangs bared. They radiated a murderous air as they glared at Wynter. Additionally, when Julio whipped his head around, the willow tree grew wildly in response.

"Young lady, are you attempting to defy the heavenly laws and stop us from moving on? We've been trapped for so long, and our sins have already been washed away. Helping us move on would be a great opportunity for your own cultivation and merits," Julio said, taking a threatening step forward.

Certain that Dalton wouldn't interfere, he added imperiously, "Are you really willing to sacrifice the village's chance at survival for a single cultivator's sake?"

As soon as Julio spoke, the villagers erupted into a deafening clamor. Rather than voices, it sounded more like a deep, grating vibration that induced a splitting headache. If Julio's voice alone had been like a single drop of water in a sizzling pot, the clamor felt like the entire pot had exploded.

Screams and shrieks echoed in the air, rising into the mournful wail of thousands of restless spirits—infamously known as the Thousand Woes.

For the cultivators, it was pure torment. The piercing cries drilled into their skulls, and they couldn't block them.

Feradach and the other three struggled to stay on their feet while Mt. Lunther's cultivators writhed in agony. The latter even felt the maddening urge to dive into the bonfire to escape the torment.

The villagers' faces were now void of features, save for a disturbingly wide mouth.

Knowing that they sought to consume living souls, Desiree attempted to shield Wynter. Before she could act, Wynter raised her hands. Red threads wrapped around her fingers, each strand tied to a lucky token—sacred artifacts to subdue grim spirits.

She drew runes in the air so swiftly that only the fleeting silhouette of her pale hands could be seen.

Ghost brides typically haunted the night roads, and their cries were often heavy with despair. With Desiree's tragic story in mind, Wynter refused to let the villains off easily.

They had never atoned for their sins in life, and now they sought to murder an innocent to move on. Well, they could dream on!

Desiree, who had fully manifested, felt her eyes well up with tears. Initially, she had respected Wynter because of Dalton, but now, she genuinely wanted to protect her. No one had ever fought so hard for justice on her behalf, even if it meant defying the heavenly laws.

Dalton, always the more reasonable one, quickly seized Wynter's arm. "Are you sure you want to carry such a heavy personal burden for him?"

Before Wynter could reply, Raleigh roused from his unconscious state. He had no idea he was chosen as the sacrifice.

As his eyes fluttered open, he found himself standing over blazing flames with his limbs tied. Instinctively, he struggled to break free, only to discover the rope was infused with resentful energy.

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead as the truth sank in. Gazing ahead, he spotted Wynter and called out to her. After all, they had known each other since childhood.

Despite being born into nobility, Raleigh had never been recognized as one. Before his spiritual roots were tested, he was known for his inferior horoscope and the eerie ability to see spirits.

With several heirs ahead of him, he was never favored in the Marquis family and treated as a joke by the nobility in Kongeborg.

During a royal hunt, the noblemen gathered around him and taunted his ill fate. They called him a maid's son and ordered him to lead the horse like a mere stable boy.

Raleigh was small and skinny back then, and though terrified of the bullies, he refused to submit to their humiliation. Unfortunately, no one in Kongeborg was willing to stand up for him—until Wynter arrived.

She jumped off her horse and lashed her whip, striking fear into everyone's heart. Since then, the noblemen never dared to bully Raleigh again.

Thanks to Wynter, Raleigh lived through his childhood in peace. When they were chosen for the cultivation path, he had hoped to follow her to Mt. Nxyvarn. However, the Marquis discovered he possessed remarkable spiritual roots, and instead, he was sent to Mt. Lunther as the head disciple.

Unwilling to disobey his father or disappoint his mother, Raleigh joined Mt. Lunther. At the same time, he began to plan for the future. Hoping to become Wynter's perfect match, he participated in field training. However, he never imagined that he would still be relying on her help even as adults.

When Raleigh thought about that, his expression turned sour. He then added a murmur. "You can just leave me, Your Highness."

It wasn't that he was seeking death, but the villagers were too creepy. They feared no spells nor formation, and their resentments were so intense that it felt like a force was protecting them.

Though Raleigh couldn't make sense of the situation, he knew that the cultivators stood no chance against the grim spirits. Besides, someone had likely placed a spell on the village to suppress their strength and magic. More than anything, he didn't want Wynter to take on the risk for him.