The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1807

Everyone was rendered speechless by Dalton's action. He spoke with the same nonchalant demeanor as always. His eyelids lifted slightly, his actions casual, and his face so handsome and noble that it seemed like none of this was a big deal to him.

Feradach sucked in a sharp breath as the four of them instinctively turned their gazes toward Brenda. Dalton had boldly said what they had all been thinking! They, too, thought the stuff in the bowl was filthy, but they hadn't dared say it out loud.

They believed it was over now. Even if they didn't want to fight, they'd have to—and they were no match for her!

Sure enough, Brenda's expression twisted into something terrifying in an instant. Her face was suddenly half-covered in blood, and her voice was bone-chillingly sinister. "What did you say? You think what I made is filthy?"

"He's young and doesn't know any better," Feradach said, trying to smooth things over. "Right, Wynter?" He didn't forget to blink furiously at her, signaling her to rein in her boy toy.

Unfortunately, Dalton didn't appreciate his efforts and even found the behavior a bit foolish. He glanced at Brenda, his brow slightly furrowed. He then tilted his head, regaining a bit of his youthful air as he turned to Wynter. "This cultivator is wrong. Everything here is filthy. Don't touch or eat any of it."

Feradach couldn't believe what he was hearing. Couldn't Dalton see he was covering for him? Was he trying to get himself killed?

"Wynter!" Feradach's voice cracked as he shouted. "He's your responsibility. Do something!"

Wynter finally moved, propping her chin on her hand. She shook her head exasperatedly, though her tone was indulgent. "Don't worry, I didn't touch or eat anything, but you can't just go around breaking people's bowls. You'll have to pay for it."

"Oh?" Dalton glanced back at Brenda after hearing Wynter's words. "How much for the bowl? I'll pay you."

But the bowl wasn't the point.

Brenda's face was still dripping with blood, her chest heaving, as if she had never been so insulted. Her expression was terrifyingly dark. "You must have a death wish!"

Feradach closed his eyes. He believed this was it. They were definitely done for now.

But compared to Jaylene, they were still better off. Their first instinct was to draw their swords.

"Everyone, form the formation!" Even if they couldn't win, they had to fight to the death. They couldn't just abandon Wynter and Dalton.

The four of them pulled Dalton behind them, shielding him. This made Dalton raise an eyebrow again, and the hand he had already raised slowly lowered.

"Miss?" That single word of his seemed simple, but it carried a lot of meaning. What followed might have been, "Miss, where did you meet these idiots? They're hindering my abilities." Or perhaps, "They're manhandling me. Should I still strike the spirit?"

Of course, the most crucial point was that these four, while seemingly protecting him, were actually shielding Brenda from his strike.

After all, it was said that a single strike from Dalton could level even the most fortified sect mountain, let alone an evil spirit like Brenda.

The grim spirits outside hadn't avoided him because they didn't want to eat him. After all, the path he had walked was littered with blood and gore, trampled under his feet. Who would dare provoke such a monster?

The wandering spirits had fled at the sight of him from afar. Even the act of him killing grim spirits was something they dared not watch. The moment he released his energy, all beings of the underworld would kneel.

But Dalton always concealed the spirit energy he had gotten from the refining flames in front of cultivators, as his persona demanded it. After all, how could a sect's boy toy be tainted with spirit energy?

He didn't mind it himself, but his game with Wynter wasn't over yet, and he was quite satisfied with his current role.

Hence, Brenda hadn't sensed how deep his cultivation was. But she knew that no one had ever been able to enter the town after dark and find her place on their own. He knew Dalton was no ordinary mortal.

But no matter how extraordinary he was, he couldn't possibly contend with her. All the resentment in the Granville Village belonged to her, after all.

As Brenda's gaze lifted, she floated into the air. The walls of the house bled as the food in the basket reeked of decay, and the room was filled with a chilling and oppressive resentful energy.

Brenda cackled, her nails long and black. Her face was a grotesque mess as she stared at them with sinister glee. "I bet you've known who I am all along! Why even bother telling me the tale? You can all die now!"

As she spoke, she lunged toward Wynter. It might have been fine if she had targeted anyone else. But, unfortunately for her, she had chosen Wynter.

Dalton's eyes narrowed, and time seemed to freeze. He was standing in front of Wynter the next moment, his entire figure shrouded in darkness.

The four cultivators were still chanting spells, their swords raised. Just as they were about to unleash their spells, they saw Brenda frozen mid-air, her face deathly pale.

The hand she had reached out with had turned to ash, leaving only a pool of black water on the ground. Her eyes widened, her pupils dilating as they reflected Dalton's figure. As soon as she realized what was happening, she tried to draw power from the sacred statue.

Dalton simply chuckled softly. Following that, a loud crash sounded. This time, it wasn't just the bowl that shattered. The sacred statue also crumbled into pieces.

Brenda struggled, and her first instinct was to kneel and beg for mercy.

But Dalton spoke, cutting off her actions, his voice calm. "I didn't know it was an evil spirit. Miss, I'm a bit scared. Good thing the cultivators formed their formation, or I might have died."

Brenda, on the verge of having her soul scattered, lay on the ground, confused.

The four sect apprentices exchanged glances, their faces lit up with joy and excitement. "Our sword formation actually worked!"

They had never known they were this powerful. Truly, as their sage had said, human potential was limitless. They couldn't be afraid and had to keep trying!

Brenda didn't even want to speak anymore. She was trembling, both furious and terrified. She had heard of Dalton, but this was her first time meeting him.

Her sensory organs began to bleed the moment he released even a hint of his energy. Her soul felt like it was being burned, and the pain showed no signs of stopping.

Brenda looked up at Dalton, cold sweat pouring down her face. Who could have imagined that he would appear in such an innocent guise?

Dalton knew Brenda was watching him. He didn't avoid her gaze, simply looking back at her. The ends of his hair were slightly curled, his eyes as dark and deep as obsidian, and his beauty carrying an air of arrogance.

"Miss, she wanted to kill me. You should deal with her." His tone was calm, almost like he was tattling.

Both Wynter and Brenda were equally speechless, and Brenda was so out of breath she could barely speak.

To prevent an entire formation of evil spirits from being angered, Wynter quickly intervened to stop Dalton's performance. "Perhaps she didn't mean to kill you. Maybe she has some grievances."

Wynter was basically chastising Dalton with her eyes, as if saying that Brenda would have been kneeling before him if she weren't in so much pain.

Dalton, his tone innocent yet cold, replied, "Is that so? Then why did she point her claws at you?"

Brenda also caught on to the underlying message. Dalton's sudden fury wasn't because of her existence but because she had disrespected Wynter earlier.

She truly hadn't intended to harm Wynter. From the moment they met, Wynter had been calm and composed.

Brenda liked this kind of calmness. There were very few people left who were willing to chat with her like this. That was why she had kept Wynter in the room, sparing her from facing the filth outside.

"I already said there are grievances. What's the point of fighting?" Wynter pressed down his sword with her right hand.

The four of them were forced to take a heavy step back. The gap between their powers was too huge!

Who had spread the rumor that her spiritual roots were average and that she only cared about indulging in her boy toys?

The four of them had varying expressions.

Brenda clenched her fists. Even without Dalton's presence, the move Wynter had made earlier would be enough to defeat her. She couldn't help but wonder if the strongest among them had been Wynter all along.

Wynter could have subdued her at any time but had chosen to play around with her instead. Brenda looked at Wynter in confusion, unable to comprehend what she was thinking.

Wynter's train of thoughts was simple—as a woman, she would always help other women. Some people might appear human, but in reality, they were worse than evil spirits.

"What's trapping you besides your resentment?" Wynter didn't waste words and extended her hand toward Brenda, her gaze gentle. "You've been stuck here for so long. You've suffered enough."

Wynter's company had many women. For women to excel in the workplace, they often had to put in more effort than men. She had seen them working overtime, struggling to make a living under immense pressure, sometimes even receiving calls from their families, urging them to get married.

The message had always been the same. No matter how capable they were, they were still expected to find a man to marry.

Sometimes, it felt like there was a huge disparity. There were places where people raised their daughters to be confident women. But in other places, it felt like daughters were still living in the past.

Wynter didn't know how that felt because she hadn't experienced it herself, but after seeing so much, she always tried to make things easier for the women she encountered.

Brenda looked at Wynter, surprised to hear such words.

For many years, many sect apprentices had come here, each claiming to be a genius, each appearing righteous and seemingly understanding of human suffering. There were even female cultivators, noble and pure.

But when it came down to it, they would say things like, "This is something you'll have to face as a woman. Why can't you let go when others can? Why do you insist on staying in the mortal world to cause harm?"

Brenda found their words hilarious. Was she the one causing harm? Why was she the evil one in the end? These people had already forced her to live in hell! Why didn't anyone say they were the evil ones?

Those despicable people had lived to old age simply because they were familiar with sect cultivators and wouldn't be judged after death.

She hated the world's injustice. Those sect apprentices even told her to let go of her grudges and not torment the townsfolk. How laughable! Were they really the ones who were tormented? No one had ever thought that perhaps she was trapped or let alone suffered. Only Wynter…

Brenda—No, perhaps she should be called Desiree. She had never liked her name, as it represented a life of struggle.

Desiree looked at Wynter, her floating form slowly descending. This time, she truly felt the desire to have a proper conversation.

She wanted to move closer to Wynter but accidentally caught sight of Dalton's eyes. They were cold, devoid of any warmth.

Desiree shuddered, the blood on her face receding as she returned to her best appearance from when she was alive.

She bowed gracefully to Wynter, her demeanor gentle. "My lady, could you please ask your... servant to remove the sacred statue here?"

The four sect apprentices were stunned. Were they just decorations here? Why was she talking to Dalton about this?