The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1828

But why, after reincarnating, had Dalton's spiritual form become entangled in endless resentful energy? It was an impurity that seemed impossible to cleanse. How had he become tainted by such things? Someone like him surely hadn't had it easy.

Even malevolent spirits would kneel before him. Half of Granville Village's grim spirits had vanished, likely because of him. Though Wynter hadn't witnessed him act, the bloodstains on the ground told the story.

What could possibly make him willingly bear such burdens? Given his meticulous nature, none of this should have existed in the first place. There was clearly something Wynter had yet to understand.

Wynter's gaze, filled with curiosity, remained fixed on Dalton, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Even after opening the formation, she still had time to look at him.

Noticing this, Dalton raised an eyebrow slightly. Beneath his dark lashes, his eyes gleamed with amusement. He studied her for a few seconds before letting out a low chuckle. His lips parted slightly, as if about to call her out.

But then, remembering he was now in his adult form, he pressed them together. His voice, deep and magnetic, carried a teasing edge. "What are you looking at?"

Without hesitation, Wynter lifted her finger and pointed directly at him, making no attempt to hide it. Dalton found her response satisfying, the curve of his lips turning more genuine.

After all, ever since they had arrived, no matter what she did, her attention had been on Raleigh. Now that her focus had shifted to him, the sight was far more pleasing.

Had she not responded the way he expected, he wasn't sure what measures he might have taken. Ordinary people would likely struggle to accept his methods. Not that he blamed them for it.

He was still giving her a little more time to choose.

Wynter had no clue about Dalton's inner thoughts. On the surface, he still wore that ever-present, faint smile—dangerous yet irresistibly captivating. It wasn't the first time she had let her principles waver over someone's looks, so what was one more time?

The trip to the Human Sacrificial Formation hadn't been in vain. Many questions, especially those surrounding him, had been answered.

Dalton wasn't just heaven's chosen one—he practically acted on its behalf. Though he seemed to disregard all rules, he had a system of order that was entirely his own.

Wynter mentally summarized everything she had observed over the past few days, tucking away countless thoughts to share with him once they left the formation.

Whether it was sheer carelessness or just her straightforward nature, she had already pieced together his identity. Yet, somehow, she failed to realize he might not let her leave. In the end, she had simply been too distracted by his face, lowering her guard without even noticing.

Who would have thought his possessiveness ran even deeper than it seemed? After all, at a glance, one would assume he was indifferent to everything.

Whitley, a Celestial Dragon, was an Ancient Beast. Wherever he went, immense fortune followed. Not only mortals, but even fish in the water could ascend to the heavens in a single step. It was no surprise that every sect was green with envy.

But beyond their jealousy, they had to acknowledge one undeniable fact—Wynter was no longer just any ordinary disciple they could question at will. She was now the Heavenly Derivation's heir, and even the Celestial Dragon seemed willing to serve her.

For Mt. Lunther, this was a crushing blow. For years, the Requiem Pillar had stood within their sect, and the outside world had always assumed that if the Heavenly Derivation were to recognize a master, it would choose someone from Mt. Lunther. This belief had cemented their status above all other sects.

Yet now, the Heaven Derivation's remnants had chosen Wynter, a disciple from the most unremarkable sect—Mt. Nyxvarn. This was nothing short of a public humiliation for Mt. Lunther!

Both Mt. Lunther's disciples and elders wished this had never happened. Why had they brought her to the Requiem Pillar to test her soul? They should have just accepted that she had broken the formation in Granville Village and left it at that!

They felt an unprecedented regret. Mt. Lunther had long been accustomed to throwing its weight around. But this time, their scheming had backfired spectacularly.

Meanwhile, the other sects, though envious, offered their congratulations, their opinions already beginning to shift.

As for the four clueless youths, they were genuinely overjoyed for Wynter, pounding each other’s shoulders and shouting, "Wynter!"

Their excitement was unmistakable—she had truly made them proud!

Who would dare claim now that Wynter had mediocre spiritual roots or that she had stolen Carlton's golden encounters to break the formation in Granville Village? The formation warden of the world's greatest sect had acknowledged her as its master. There was no one more gifted than Wynter!

High above in the clouds, Whitley could sense the crowd's shifting emotions. But beyond that, a far stronger sensation struck—his lord was here!

Whitley turned his massive body, his gaze sweeping over the crowd until it landed on one figure. Dalton still held his parasol, his expression indifferent, as if everything around him was of no consequence.

Yet, that single glance made Whitley's body stiffen. If his eyes weren't failing him, then his lord was now in a mortal form. But where was Wolf? Why wasn't he by Dalton's side?

It had been over 500 years since Whitley last saw Dalton. Back then, Dalton had promised to retrieve him. That was the only reason he had emerged from the formation—he had caught Dalton's scent.

The formation warden recognizing a master had nothing to do with him, yet there was no mistaking it—Dalton's scent was all over Wynter, and it was incredibly strong. Knowing Dalton, he wouldn't allow just anyone to get this close to him.

Who was she to Dalton? And how did she know his real name? Strangely, Whitley also felt a faint, inexplicable familiarity with her.

Normally, after appearing, the Celestial Dragon would leave without delay. But this time, it was different. Instead of vanishing, Whitley hovered over the cliff where Wynter stood, showing no intention of leaving.

"It can't be thinking of following Wynter back, right?" Feradach's guess was filled with disbelief, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it might be true.

Who had ever seen a Celestial Dragon before? Even in their wildest dreams, they wouldn't dare imagine summoning one, let alone having it grow attached to them.

According to historical records, the Celestial Dragon was the proudest of all Sacred Beasts, utterly indifferent to human emotions. If displeased, it wouldn't so much as glance at an offering, no matter how precious. It might even turn against them, leaving the seeker with no golden encounters.

But now, looking at how the Celestial Dragon treated Wynter, where was that legendary arrogance? This was no different from a pond eel raised in someone's backyard! Well, there was one key difference—an eel couldn't grant golden encounters.

So, why hadn't the Ancient Beast left yet? More than that, it almost seemed to recognize Wynter as its master!

It wasn't just the four naive disciples who thought this way. Even the surrounding disciples and elders were left bewildered and in disbelief after witnessing the scene unfold.

Wynter, however, remained completely composed. With a Celestial Dragon hovering above her, anything she said now carried undeniable weight.

Her expression stayed calm as she turned her gaze to Isidore, who stood the farthest away. In an even tone, she asked, "Now that my soul has been tested and the grand formation has given its answer, is there anything else you wish to verify?"

What a joke. With the Heavenly Derivation's remnant recognizing her as its master and the Celestial Dragon lingering at her side, who would dare question her now? After all, no malevolent spirit could even maintain its form in a Celestial Dragon's presence.

Even so, he couldn't understand why these mortals were still discussing sacred statues when Dalton was right there. If they truly sought the Sacred Path, shouldn't they be following the heavenly law?

Perplexed, Whitley hovered in place, his gaze fixed on the gathering below.

Meanwhile, the various sects' disciples struggled to withstand Whitley's proximity. While the elders remained composed, the disciples' cultivation levels were simply too low to bear the overwhelming pressure.

This only reinforced how powerful Wynter must be for the Celestial Dragon to willingly follow her.

Mt. Lunther no longer had the standing to say anything about spiritual roots. They had always prided themselves on Carlton, a fact recognized across the world. Yet today, Wynter had utterly overshadowed him. If one sought a true genius, they would have to look to Mt. Nyxvarn.

Her display had not only shaken Mt. Lunther's reputation but overshadowed the prestige they had cultivated for years.

The disciples dared not utter a word. With the Celestial Dragon by her side, a single misstep could shatter their Arcane minds. What was there left to compare? Even the esteemed elders and sages of the great sects found themselves outmatched.

Wynter cast a glance at those who had whispered about her earlier, knowing that nothing silenced opposition more effectively than sheer strength.

She had chosen to reveal her abilities for two reasons. Firstly, she had already identified the mastermind within the formation, and secondly, Mt. Nyxvarn had kept its trump card hidden for far too long.

Today, she would lay it bare, making one thing clear—if anyone wanted to challenge Mt. Nyxvarn, they would have to go through her first.

These people were deeply entangled in their own self-interests. If certain issues weren't confronted, they would only continue to fester.

They prided themselves on righteousness, didn't they? Then she would give them a true opportunity to prove it.

With that thought, Wynter stepped toward Dudley. "But what if I told you the sacred statues still exist?"

"Still exist? That's impossible!" Jervis immediately refuted.

He had overseen the matter himself—there was no deception on his part. The statues in the Wretched Ground had been destroyed, and there had been no further reports of villagers dreaming about being chosen.

Wynter's lips curved slightly. "Nothing is impossible. The sacred statues weren't limited to the Wretched Ground. They appeared at this year's Arcane Way Forum."

"What? At the forum? That's absurd! Our security at Mt. Lunther is airtight. There's no way malevolent entities could have infiltrated," Jervis protested, his disbelief palpable.

He had personally conducted the inspections. The idea that malevolent spirits had slipped past them was inconceivable.

Wynter met his gaze evenly. "Again, nothing is impossible. Without followers, they're just ordinary stone statues, so sneaking them in would be easy. But there's also another possibility—no security checks would be required if they were already inside Mt. Lunther in the first place."

"Lies!" Jervis roared, his fury evident. "You're trying to smear Mt. Lunther's name!"

Wynter remained unshaken. "Whether I'm lying or not, there are witnesses. Feradach, Mr. Winston, and I saw it with our own eyes in Granville Village. The sacred statue was intact, and the grim spirits were still worshipping it."