The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1804

Meanwhile, outside the formation, Monway University's suicide cases were far from over. This meant that the Sacrificial Human Formation was still active.

Atwater refused to accept fate just like this. He knew he couldn't break the formation, but he insisted on finding another way. Perhaps finding out who had constructed the formation would work, too!

Determined, he suddenly sat cross-legged on the ground. Around him, a ring of talismanic runes, drawn in cinnabar, glowed faintly in the darkness. It didn't seem like any of the Arcane Way's normal rituals.

Kaspar rushed over the moment he saw this. "What are you doing? Are you out of your mind? You can't just forcefully activate the divine eye like this!"

Atwater's voice was firm. "We're running out of time to break the formation. Right now, Wynter's in there, stopping it from proceeding. But the longer she stays inside, the more likely the tides are going to turn on her.

"It's obvious that neither of us knows what she's facing in there. My entire sect owes her a huge favor—I have to get her out."

There was only one way to track down the mastermind behind this formation, which was to activate the divine eye. Yet, doing so would take a massive toll on the body, even for a grand master. Atwater wasn't even one, and he was putting his life at risk by forcing it.

Kaspar wasn't going to stand by and let that happen. "You can look for the formation master, but no matter what, don't activate the divine eye!"

Atwater didn't respond, so Kaspar grabbed his hand. "There are other ways to save Wynter. Wait for me, and don't be reckless! Got it?"

"Other ways?" Atwater raised an eyebrow as he suddenly recalled something. "Do you mean the heaven's chosen one from the Yarwoods?"

Kaspar nodded eagerly. "Exactly! I'll borrow some fortune from him. Wait here until I get back!"

Atwater wasn't a stubborn fool. "Alright. I'll hold the fort while I wait for you here. I'll see if I can track the culprit's presence in the meantime."

Only then did Kaspar heave a sigh of relief—he had been afraid that Atwater would do something foolish.

But the fact that a calamity like the Sacrificial Human Formation persisted was already a nightmare to deal with. Who in the world would resort to such witchcraft?

Would Wynter be able to make it back? Kaspar was incapable of convincing himself that she could. What he could do now was to buy as much time as possible.

Atwater thought so, too—as long as he could stall the formation master, Wynter would have more time inside. Hence, without hesitation, he bit his finger and started chanting, "By my soul, I call upon the forces of heaven and earth—hunt him down!"

As the final word left his lips, his eyes snapped open, gleaming with light. In that instant, his vision transcended a normal human being's limits. It pierced through physical boundaries and swept across Colifernia.

Suddenly, he sensed a certain presence and headed in its direction. Just as he attempted to enter the building through the wall, a surge of tension forced him to retreat.

…

Meanwhile, the old man in the office opened his eyes slowly.

Standing beside him, Kiaran asked, "What's wrong, sir? Are you unwell?"

Cold sweat broke out uncontrollably as he recalled what he had seen back then.

The old man barely spared him a glance. "Nothing much. Just something personal. Kiaran, check if the thing I left in the lounge was properly covered. If not, drape a red cloth over it."

The old man never expected someone to deploy Presence Tracking in this day and age. With his knowledge of every sect, none should have been capable of this. Were there survivors out there?

Yet, such a crude technique didn't matter much to him. Nevertheless, the item inside the chamber would easily be sensed.

Kiaran knew what exactly was kept in the lounge—it was the sacred statue he had seen earlier. The old man had stood before the statue as if absorbing something from it.

Kiaran didn't dare look at the statue, but defying his superior's orders wasn't an option, either. He could only pull himself together and head inside the lounge. For some reason, the incense burning before the statue was irresistibly rich. It almost made him hungry, and he subconsciously licked his lips.

However, he snapped out of the trance in no time, his gaze filled with fear. He grabbed the red cloth beside him and covered the sacred statue's face. With that, the statue's presence was hidden as well.

Back outside, Atwater tried once more to lock onto his target, but he failed no matter how hard he tried. As he gazed at the thickening mist looming over Monway University, his brow furrowed. He could only hope that the Yarwoods would deliver good news.

Though Wynter was born with extraordinary capabilities, she couldn't withstand the Sacrificial Human Formation forever. Kaspar, who was out to seek help, remained oblivious to this fact.

…

The situation at the Yarwood Group's Colifernia branch was anything but stable. Rumors had already begun to spread that the head of the Yarwoods wouldn't make it past the year, as predicted. With Theo absent, was now their time to start making their move?

Upon learning this, Dalton's assistant, Keane Woodsen, thought of reporting it to him. However, Dalton seemed to be in some sort of deep sleep. Standing beside him was his new secretary, Jensen Crowe.

Jensen reassured him, saying, "It's nothing serious. Mr. Yarwood just needs a few more days of rest."

Keane wasn't as optimistic as him. "Call Dr. Rivers. The company needs Mr. Yarwood back in charge."

As they spoke, sunlight poured in through the window, casting a glow on Dalton's attractive but pale face. Yet, no warmth could awaken him from his slumber.

The man who once shook the whole world had now fallen into a deep sleep without any reason. Who would've expected this?

His long lashes cast shadows over his skin, like butterflies resting on his face. Oddly, in his unconscious state, his features appeared even more sharp and striking. Keane couldn't explain why.

"It's difficult to assess Mr. Yarwood's situation." The attending doctor, Francesco Rivers, adjusted his glasses. "Indeed, there are no external causes—he's simply asleep. But we have no idea when he'll wake up."

Keane's gaze shifted to the withered lilies on the bedside table. "Three days… Mr. Yarwood's been unconscious for three days. Dr. Rivers, do you mind taking another look at him?"

Francesco sighed. "I've checked everything. There's nothing wrong with him."

Keane wanted to say something more, but his phone buzzed. It was a message from the Colifernia branch's board of directors. "Mr. Woodsen, will Mr. Yarwood be attending today's meeting?"

He narrowed his eyes. Dalton had only been unconscious for two days, and they were already eager to offer their conditions. The same board members who used to bow and scrape before him had now revealed their true colors.

Where did they even get their information from? Were they certain that Dalton wouldn't wake up?

Keane suppressed his irritation as he kept his tone neutral. "Mr. Yarwood's currently occupied with some foreign affairs. I'll reach out to you once he's available."

"Oh? I heard he's sick, though," a board member Dalton had scolded last time, Steven Morrison, said. It was noisy on his end of the line. "Don't lie to us, Mr. Woodsen. It'll be better for us to make arrangements in advance if something really happens to Mr. Yarwood.

"Tell me, all of you—if Mr. Yarwood stays missing forever, can this company ever survive?"

Someone next to Steven replied, "Of course not! Mr. Yarwood Senior's already getting old. If Mr. Yarwood doesn't return, who else is going to run a company of this scale?"

Before he could continue, Brenda turned around and asked, "What's wrong, sir?"

"He doesn't want me to have the pies first," Wynter replied as she calmly stepped in, blocking his terrified expression.

The color had completely drained from Feradach's face as he took in the scene before him. How could this be a normal marketplace?

They claimed a celebration was going on. Yet, a severed pig's head was placed at the very center of the street. The aromatic pies from just moments ago were now covered in mold.

Not a single person walking through the alleys had an intact body. Blood was dripping from their faces. Some had even sat down to eat, but what they were eating were human organs.

Where on earth had they ended up? It was clear that Wynter had already figured it out, which was why she had stopped him just now.

Feradach wasn't a fool, either. Despite the cold sweat pouring down his back, he didn't scream on the spot. He knew that at times like these, the more one pretended to know nothing, the longer they would survive.

The other three had yet to have their divine eyes activated and didn't know what was going on with him. They simply licked their lips and said, "Feradach, we're all hungry, but we should let Ms. Quinnell have the first share no matter what. Don't forget that she saved us just now."

"Exactly," one of them agreed.

Their words made Brenda chuckle. "Aunt Meredith's meat pies are indeed delicious. She only uses the finest ingredients for the fillings—all from freshly slaughtered meat.

"There's no need for you all to worry. I've just returned from my mother's place with a whole basket of smoked meat. Once we reach our destination, all of you can enjoy a feast. I'll also let my husband know how grateful I am for your kindness in saving me."

Nothing she said sounded out of place. After all, the villagers would usually be warm and welcoming toward sect apprentices. Hence, it wasn't odd that the other three didn't sense anything amiss.

But now that Feradach knew the truth, he simply couldn't take another step. Stammering, he said, "Actually, we don't enjoy feasts. Yeah, it's not our thing."

Piaras scoffed. "You don't like feasts? Come on, Feradach, quit acting at this point. We've had a long day, so let's just have a feast and rest early. We'll need it when we go spirit-hunting early in the morning tomorrow."

Feradach was practically itching to slap him. Piaras was beyond saving. Spirit-hunting? Feradach thought that he might want to take a good look at what was beside him first!

Of course, he could only rant silently. After all, how would he dare say them out loud?

With no idea what to do, he quietly glanced at Wynter. The latter gave him a slight nod, signaling him to follow. It made Feradach anxious, thinking that Brenda was obviously luring them inside to kill them.

Wynter's gaze was calm, but her expression was blunt. She might as well have admitted that the way she had looked at them was the same way he was looking at the others now. He assumed they must have looked like idiots back then.

Brenda seemed to sense something was off. "You've been rather quiet along the way."

She was referring to Wynter, who lazily looked up and said, "People don't tend to like what I have to say, so I don't say much."

Brenda let out a gentle chuckle. "You're quite interesting. We've arrived at my place—come on in."

Upon hearing her words, Wynter swept a glance inside. The main gate faced west, which was said to let only dark energy in.

As Wynter observed the place, she narrowed her eyes. In the middle of the yard was something else—the sacred statue.