The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1711

Wynter nodded after listening to Carmila's words. "This so-called River God probably won't fancy an outsider like me. But I noticed you were crying earlier—what's on your mind?"

Carmila wiped away the lingering tears at the corners of her eyes. "This River God… it's very powerful. Back then, Martin and I had a daughter. A few years ago, I even found a family willing to take her in, thinking she'd have a better life.

"But somehow, it was like the River God overheard our plans. The ritual was suddenly moved up, and the clan leader came to our home, demanding my daughter for the ritual by the riverbed. That was the last time I saw her.

"The clan leader told us the River God took a liking to her and wanted her to stay by its side forever. Martin believed him, but I've always felt something else was going on. But I… I couldn't do anything about it."

Wynter nodded thoughtfully. "Mrs. Clove, you've had such a tough life. If the River God does pick me tonight, I'll take a look around. I'll even check if your daughter is still serving the River God. If you have a photo of her, send it to me."

Wynter knew that this so-called River God was much like the previously mentioned cultivator. It had been drawing all the girls in the village to it. What exactly was intended remained a mystery, and she would have to wait until tonight to uncover the truth.

Carmila clasped Wynter's hands tightly. "Thank you so much! If you do see her, please tell her… tell her that I miss her so much!"

In the meantime, outside the house, Martin had disappeared from the tea table, his whereabouts unknown.

Not wanting to be left alone with a stranger for long, Dalton quickly hypnotized Martin, sending him off elsewhere.

The black serpent was still rambling, "My lord, you really need to teach that wretched serpent a lesson! It's been running wild under the old cultivator's protection, breaking every rule you've ever set. I can't stand it anymore! It doesn't even respect you!"

Dalton remained calm, his thoughts unreadable as he gently spun the bracelet in his hand. Only after hearing enough of the black serpent's complaints did he cast a glance its way. "You can deal with it, then."

The black serpent's eyes darted nervously. "My lord, if you truly order me to, I will! Even if it costs my life, I'd obey without hesitation! But let's be honest—I'll just be fodder if I go.

"If that happens, that wretched serpent will think all your followers are weaklings! I still need to stay by your side. I've got civil service exams to prepare for and other duties to fulfill! But whatever you decide, my lord, I'll follow!"

Dalton lightly tapped the wooden table, his expression unchanged. To him, a mere serpent that had managed to transform into a dragon posed no real threat.

Just then, Wynter stepped out of the house and immediately spotted the black serpent poking its head out near Dalton. She strolled over and, without hesitation, grabbed it by its head.

"Didn't I tell you to stay in the bag? What are you doing sticking your head out? Were you planning to bite my fiancé? It looks like you still haven't learned your lesson. Once we're done here, I'll have Wolf roast you!" Wynter warned.

The black serpent hissed indignantly, as if trying to say, "I wasn't biting anyone! I was just speaking with the lord!"

However, with its head firmly grasped, it couldn't make a sound, nor could it risk exposing Dalton. Once Wynter finally let go, it quickly slithered back into the bag, its eyes glistening with pitiful tears.

Dalton added a timely comment, "I always feel safest when you're around. Otherwise, who knows? That snake might have bitten me just now."

Wynter was unaware of the real situation. "Be careful. This black serpent failed to transform into a dragon. It must still be nursing some resentment, and since it doesn't dare to challenge me, it's probably looking for an easy target to take its frustrations out on."

Dalton nodded, giving her a faint smile.

When she wasn't looking, he shot the black serpent a cold glance that clearly conveyed that it could give up thinking about being a snake, much less a dragon if it dared say anything.

The black serpent immediately fell silent, retreating into complete stillness.

Just then, the villagers, who had been searching for the girl who had escaped earlier, began to gather around out of nowhere.

Leading them was Hamilton, whom they had encountered on the mountain. His gaze was cold and calculating, resting on Wynter with a hint of malice.

However, this was a society bound by laws, and they were outsiders—wealthy ones, by the looks of them. They couldn't act recklessly.

Once this realization settled in, Hamilton's expression shifted into a smile. "So, are you the ones Martin brought up here earlier?"

Wynter noticed his attempt to play nice and let a smirk form on her lips. It was perfect. Two could play this game. After all, she had always been an excellent actress.

"Yes, that's us. And you must be his granduncle," Wynter responded, as if only recognizing him now.

Hamilton glanced at the villagers holding torches behind him. "Put those away! You'll scare our tourists."

Then, turning back to Wynter, he asked, "You guys look really young. Are you still in school?"

He casually sat across from Wynter, but his sharp eyes darted toward Dalton warily. To him, Wynter was an easy prey. However, something about Dalton, especially the bracelet on his wrist, seemed unusual.

Dalton coughed lightly, keeping his head down and saying nothing. He didn't so much as glance up.

In contrast, Wynter's demeanor remained friendly. "Mr. Clove, you've got good eyes."

Hamilton chuckled, appearing harmless. "What brings you all the way out to this remote place? Why didn't you visit the city instead?"

"Oh, we kind of wandered here by mistake and stumbled across Mr. Martin. He mentioned some kind of ritual you're having. It sounded so fascinating!" Wynter sounded like an unguarded college student. "We've never seen it before and wanted to witness it with our own eyes."

Hamilton laughed heartily. "Curious about the Ritual of Devotion, are you? That's no problem at all. Although our village is small, we've worked hard to promote tourism. We've even added things like cultural costume experiences, just like in bigger places."

"Cultural costumes?" Wynter's eyes lit up.

Hamilton nodded. "Of course. Why don't you come with me?"

Wynter was beaming with excitement. "Let's go!"

Hearing that, Dalton finally looked up at her. Meanwhile, the black serpent in the bag remained motionless.

At that moment, Carmila could no longer hold back. She burst out of the house and called out, "Young lady!"

Wynter looked back.

Carmila clutched at her pants nervously. She wanted to warn Wynter and stop her from going, but Hamilton's gaze was already narrowing.

Fear overtook her, and she stammered, "Maybe… How about a meal before you go?"

Hamilton's eyes grew cold, though his face maintained its friendly smile. "The god-worship ritual includes a grand feast with over 100 dishes. Young lady, you'll have plenty of chances to eat and experience everything at the same time."

"That sounds incredible!" Wynter said cheerfully before glancing back at Carmila. "I won't eat here, Mrs. Clove. I want to experience the ritual. Also, I will remember the things you told me earlier, so don't worry."

Hamilton looked at Carmila before his gaze landed on Wynter. "What did she tell you?"

"Oh, she just mentioned how the mosquitoes here are a real nuisance and told me to use plenty of repellent. Why? Do you have any better tips for dealing with them?" If Wynter truly wanted to lie, not a single crack would be found.

Additionally, Hamilton seemed noticeably anxious now, given that the time for the Ritual of Devotion was drawing near. He couldn't afford to waste time. Hence, he didn't bother trying to gauge Wynter's honesty.

If there had been a better option, he wouldn't have resorted to choosing an outsider in the first place.

"Young lady, you might not know this, but the closer you get to the river's center, the fewer the mosquitoes. Our village has always been protected by the River God."

Hamilton laughed before continuing, "There's no need to worry. You won't even need mosquito repellents."

"Does such an amazing place really exist?" Wynter's eyes widened in mock enthusiasm. "I have to see it for myself!"

Hamilton suddenly paused. "You can go, but this friend of yours…"

Wynter frowned, but Dalton spoke before her. "Alright."

Wynter arched her brow. It seemed that Dalton had a plan to deal with them. If that was the case, she could investigate this so-called traditional costume experience without being worried.

Night fell swiftly. Above them was a dark velvet sky scattered with shimmering stars.

The tranquil atmosphere carried a solemn weight as villagers, dressed in coarse linen garments, gathered around a winding river at the edge of the village. Their expressions were solemn as they encircled a hastily constructed altar.

Offerings were meticulously arranged at the heart of the altar. There were fresh fruits, bountiful grains, and fragrant flowers—all prepared with care for the impending ritual.

Dalton had been led across the river. As night fully descended, the villagers accompanying him grew restless. Unable to suppress their intent any longer, they tossed aside their torches and prepared to knock him unconscious.

But before the villagers could act on it, they froze mid-motion when Dalton lifted his gaze.

His voice was calm. "Aiding and abetting evil will condemn you to the ninth level of hell."

This was no idle threat. When Dalton spoke these words, the underworld's depths trembled. The river where red spider lilies bloomed the brightest churned, and even hell's signposts trembled faintly.

The Underworld Guards exchanged uneasy glances.

"What's going on?"

"Someone must be provoking him again."

Even beings as high-ranking as them dared not utter his name aloud.

Having delivered his decree, Dalton wasted no time. Large clusters of black feathers rained from the sky as the crow swooped in.

As the crow flew past, Dalton's clothing had already transformed—its colors and design shifting seamlessly.

The crow greeted Dalton obediently, yet he was genuinely confused. Why had he summoned him?

The black serpent was unwilling to even peek out now.

Dalton's lips curved slightly as he glanced at the crescent moon reflected on the river's surface. "I've waited for too long. The weather tonight is perfect. It's ideal for a wedding."

The black serpent didn't understand what he was saying at all.

The crow, however, understood all too well. He stiffened in shock. Deep down, he desperately hoped he hadn't understood at all!

On the other side, as Wynter entered the designated area, a medium approached her. With skilled hands, she began to meticulously comb Wynter's hair, ensuring that each strand was smooth and flawless.

Her movements were deliberate, accompanied by a soft chant, "First comb to the end of life,

second comb to gray hair and harmony, third comb to children filling the house."

As the combing ceremony concluded, the medium carefully adorned Wynter's newly styled hair with an array of intricate hairpieces. Gold, silver, and emerald ornaments were placed with precision.

That was when Wynter realized that this was preparation for a wedding.

The bride would don a stunning wedding gown, typically in vibrant red, adorned with intricate embroidery and gemstones. Every stitch and detail carried blessings and symbolic meanings.

Her attire would be carefully adjusted, and she would be accessorized with exquisite jewelry such as gold necklaces, earrings, and bracelets.