The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1816

Inside the formation, the disciples from various sects continued their endless debates.

Mt. Lunther's members, as always, carried themselves with an air of superiority, even before any conclusions were drawn. This wasn't surprising. Having long been accustomed to being at the top, they naturally assumed any golden encounters for advancement were theirs by default.

Hence, their expressions were far from gracious when the overwhelming surge of fortune flowed to Mt. Nyxvarn instead.

Mt. Lunther, with its perpetual mist and graceful swans, was revered as a sacred land in the cultivation world. How could a declining sect like Mt. Nyxvarn compare?

Mt. Lunther's elders were convinced that something underhanded had occurred.

Amidst the lively discussions in the grand hall, no one could have imagined what was happening in the depths of Mt. Lunther's back mountains.

There, Isidore, a figure hailed as the "Pinnacle of the Sacred Path" and a role model for countless cultivators, was engaged in something far from righteous.

Cloaked in a white robe and wielding a feather wand, he exuded a presence of unwavering virtue. Yet, hidden beneath this facade was a secret so dark it could shake the cultivation world's very foundations.

Before him, an incense burner burned fiercely, emitting a peculiar fragrance reminiscent of the "spirits' scent" from Granville Village.

Grim spirits were drawn to this scent. Without souls to feed on, they relied on this incense to maintain their awareness, clinging to the illusion of life.

Isidore, however, was no longer human or spirit. He inhaled the incense greedily, as though his very existence depended on it. In front of the incense burner stood the familiar sacred statue, its features eerily resembling his own.

He seemed to have just returned from somewhere. He took a deep breath before his expression turned grim, his voice icy. "How dare that insolent girl from that wretched mountain dare to ruin my plans?"

He spoke as if addressing the sacred statue, though it might have been a monologue. The flickering candlelight cast an ominous glow on his face.

Narrowing his eyes, he muttered, "But that boy beside her... he's the one I should watch out for. I can't figure him out. A mere mortal walking through Granville Village, untouched by grim spirits? Unthinkable."

The statue seemed to come alive, whispering something in his ear. They were both him—both the statue and the body he inhabited.

Within the cultivation world, there was a forbidden spell that involved worshipping nameless deities. These so-called deities held no divine status, their origins foreign, and carried an air of malevolence.

Yet, driven by greed for ascension to the Sacred Path, some succumbed to such practices. While Mt. Nyxvarn remained an exception, many, like Isidore, sought to withstand thunderstrike trials and become the ultimate cultivator. He not only consumed mystical deer but also refined countless spirit cores.

The sects' current state was largely a result of his subtle manipulations over the years.

Few knew that Mt. Lunther's current leader was no longer the original.

Isidore, aware he couldn't remain hidden forever, recognized that Mt. Nyxvarn had changed from what he once knew. Perhaps it was time to consult the senior who had brought him to the sect.

With this thought, he approached an altar surrounded by statues.

Now, with a changed appearance, Isidore had erased all traces of his past. The so-called "divine decrees" heard by mortals below the mountain were nothing but his manipulations.

He needed the Sacrificial Human Formation and a fresh body. After all, he was on the brink of ascension. He couldn't achieve it with his current half-human, half-spirit form. The body he coveted was the perfect vessel.

Yet, the root of his downfall lay with Mt. Nyxvarn, particularly Ailithir, whose stubbornness infuriated him. If not for Ailithir's intolerance, branding him a practitioner of witchcraft and expelling him from Mt. Nyxvarn, he wouldn't have had to "reinvent" himself at Mt. Lunther.

He had merely exploited the villagers' ignorance. But Ailithir, for a female spirit's sake, had tarnished his reputation across the sects.

When dual cultivation failed, he sought other methods. But that one misstep left him severely injured, unable to continue his witchcraft. Ailithir likely believed him dead, hence his complacency.

Yet, Isidore believed he had chosen the right path.

Ailithir, his former senior, had always overshadowed him, preaching morality while achieving little. Now, look at the state of the sects—each stronger than Mt. Nyxvarn, which had become a laughingstock.

Even Ailithir himself was on the verge of collapse, unable to withstand the thunderstrike trial. His loyalty to his mediocre disciples would be his undoing.

But this time, it was Wynter who stood in his way. They were all an eyesore to Isidore. He should have eradicated Mt. Nyxvarn long ago to prevent such interference. Moreover, the golden encounters within Mt. Nyxvarn had always been his desire.

He had to act discreetly in Granville Village. But once they returned to the sect, things would be different. He would make them understand who truly ruled the cultivation world.