The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1811

With a darkened gaze, Wynter stepped forward. "I wouldn't have entered the formation if I intended to leave you behind."

While others didn't hear her words, Dalton caught them. His eyelashes fluttered slowly, and his throat was seemingly clenched. A cold, uneasy air settled around him, and even his icy eyes betrayed no emotion.

His gaze lingered on Raleigh, as if trying to figure out what made him worth the risk Wynter was taking.

Dalton had already figured out Wynter had entered a formation, though he never expected any cultivator to do such a thing for another's sake—unless they meant something special to them.

Dalton's eyes darkened as his grip tightened around the parasol. The gesture was barely noticeable under the long sleeve, but his pale fingertips, possibly chilled by the biting air, peeked through.

Looking at Raleigh, Dalton could see why he appealed to Wynter. Raleigh was young and obedient, not to mention his smooth skin and round, innocent eyes.

Dalton couldn't help but think Wynter's taste in men was questionable, and yet, his adult self was everything she wouldn't go for. If she were to meet him in his true form, he doubted she would ever save him, let alone take him back to Mt. Nxyvarn. After all, she preferred the innocent, younger ones.

Dalton pursed his lips, letting out a soft snort. It came off as a mockery, though there was an emotion to it that was hard to place.

In fact, Dalton had been disgruntled and indifferent when Wynter saved him and made him her servant. Even so, she took him to the mountains against his will.

Having lost both his spiritual power and spirit energy, he was made into a sacrifice by those courageous fools. Even though he had a mortal body, the demons still dared not to approach him.

The disillusionment left Dalton feeling like a caged beast, unable to fit into the world of mortals. It wasn't until Wynter brought him to the mountains that he finally adjusted to his new life. Throughout his time with Wynter, he found himself watching her every move.

Unlike the other cultivators, Wynter had never intended to ascend to the Sacred Path, nor did she care about golden encounters. Instead, she enjoyed showering him with sweet words and stared at his face, as though it was a rare find.

But now, all she thought about was saving Raleigh, even if it meant risking her own life.

Glancing at his bleeding finger, Dalton realized he hadn't needed to rush to her aid. He even nearly exposed the celestial secret in the process. He clenched his fingers, seemingly recalling his previous behavior.

When Dalton learned that Wynter had entered the formation, he expected her to be gravely wounded, perhaps even losing her soul. To save her, he violated the code and ended the lives of countless grim spirits.

Logically, he shouldn't have done it, and he never would have. But when he saw Wynter surrounded by the grim spirits, he couldn't bear the thought of her cold, lifeless body. When the grim spirits attempted to consume her soul, fury overcame him.

It was the first time in hundreds of years that Dalton had felt anger. Once he intervened, not a single trace of the soul would remain.

The spirits within the formation had been aware of his identity, and even the cultivators had sensed something off about him. Despite knowing the risks ahead, he couldn't care less about it. Looking back, it seemed like nothing more than a moment of self-glorification.

Dalton raised a brow and inched closer to Wynter. His voice was dark and menacing, as if offering her a final chance. "You're adamant on saving him, aren't you?"

"You don't understand. He's important to me, especially when I—"

Before Wynter could finish her words, Dalton cut her off. "You don't have to repeat it. I get it now. He means a lot to you," he retorted nonchalantly.

Wynter had never seen him acting like that and frowned. "Are you misunderstanding something?"

Dalton merely cast her a condescending glance. "You've probably figured out my identity and decided to use me as a tool, but whether I agree to that is a different matter. For once, you're on your own, Your Highness."

His tone remained indifferent, though there was a hint of arrogance laced within.

After stating his piece, Dalton stepped back into the shadows and watched. If Wynter was smart enough, she would understand the situation and abandon Raleigh—just like how she used to assure him that he was her favorite among the others. Yet, Wynter hadn't had the slightest hesitation.

"Fine, I'll do it myself," Wynter replied, already intending to act on her own. Plus, her time was running out. If she failed to escape the formation, she would remain trapped forever.

Hearing her reply, Dalton gazed at Wynter intently as a new emotion stirred within him. For the first time, he felt a tightness in his chest, as though a massive rock were weighing him down. Though he attempted to shove it away, he found himself lacking the strength to do so.

Dalton reached for his heart, a look of confusion settling on his face. He was clearly in his own body, yet why did he feel repulsed, as if he were just like the spirits? His hand instinctively tightened into a fist, his nails digging deep into his skin, leaving behind a crescent mark.

Wynter had always stayed true to her words. As the red thread quivered, she quickly sprang into action. The grim spirits hesitated to approach, deterred by the lucky tokens swung around.

Noticing Wynter's movements, Feradach and the other three cultivators swiftly set up a formation to cover for her. When Raleigh saw Wynter's relentless efforts to save him, he struggled to break free from the rope once more.

Seeing that, Julio whipped out a statue and let out a fanatical roar. "The heavens have bestowed their grace upon us today, as thousands of spirits from Granville Village pass on to the afterlife. Who dares to disturb this sacred blessing from above?"

As soon as he shouted those words, lightning flashed in the sky, as if calling down heavenly retribution. The statue suddenly radiated a golden light and straightened. Seemingly having found its vessel, it shot right at Raleigh.

At that moment, another bolt of lightning struck down, followed by a deafening thunder. The villagers now morphed back into grim spirits, neither fully ghost nor human.

Their eyes turned white, and their spines twisted unnaturally as they crawled on all fours like spiders—what was more unsettling was how they still wore human faces. They glared at Wynter and widened their black mouths.

Wynter gazed at them indifferently, not even blinking once.

The grim spirits expected their appearance to send everyone fleeing. But instead of running, Wynter lashed out her red threads. The long threads cracked in the wind and coiled around the grim spirits.

The grim spirits writhed, trying to use their immense strength to break free and sink back to the earth. Wynter narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip, whipping up a fierce gust of wind.

Her sword, seemingly possessing a will of its own, soared above and plunged into the swirling wind. The chains rattled as the sword pierced the willow tree's roots. Silver light shimmered from the blade, stretching for hundreds of feet.

While Carlton spiraled into insanity, Feradach and his peers focused on covering for Wynter and shielding Raleigh from the statue. No one noticed Jaylene's plight.

Dalton tightened his grip before releasing her hand, completely crushing Jaylene's soul. Though Jaylene managed to survive with the Aegis Mirror's protection earlier, she was already dead in essence.

Dalton stood there, coldly gazing at the lifeless body.

Even if Wynter were to die, it would be by his hands, not by some despicable rats' sneak attack. After all, she still had to repay Granville Village's karma.

With the parasol in hand, Dalton turned away as his red eyes faded back to normal. However, he had committed a wrong he never should have and meddled in affairs where he had no right to.

If the crow had been around, it would definitely think that Dalton had lost his mind. Alas, no one was there to stop him from losing his way.

Dalton wiped his hand—the one he had used to crush Jaylene's—before turning his gaze to Wynter.

If everything happening now was simply the illusion of one's attachment, then what was the truth? If Wynter hadn't entered the formation, would he still be saved or brought back to Mt. Nxyvarn?

It appeared that the only reason Wynter entered the formation was to save Raleigh. It wasn't Dalton she would risk her life for.

As the thought settled in, Dalton felt that Wynter was a great actress. Her sweet words almost had him fooled. She spoke of him being her favourite, but it was nothing more than a lighthearted remark. After all, her "favorites" never lasted more than 30 days. But did she treat him any differently?

Dalton slightly twitched a finger, and the lightning in the sky intensified.

The statue could no longer close in on Raleigh, and the willow tree seemed as though it were forcibly ripped from the earth. The grim spirits started to weaken, some even showing signs of decay.

Julio was bewildered. As undead beings, their immortality could only be broken by reincarnation as humans. How could an average cultivator possibly cleanse them?

Besides, the god had manifested in the statue, and the sky was showing abnormality—weren't those indications that the heavens were on their side?

Julio turned to Wynter, who was keen on eliminating them. He shouted, "Do you really want to perish together like this? You won't gain anything! Granville Village's spirits will never forgive you!"

"I don't care," Wynter retorted nonchalantly. She had already borne several personal burdens in the real world. Adding a few more criminals to the list wouldn't make much of a difference.

Julio was completely overwhelmed with fear. He never expected a cultivator would be reckless enough to wipe out an entire village for Desiree's sake.

With no other choice, he screamed, "You won't be able to kill us! We'll still be reanimated! There's nothing you can do!"

Yet, Wynter grinned in response. "True, I can't completely cleanse you. But what if the victims themselves are here?"