The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1830

In the distance, Dalton continued to watch the scene unfold. His fingers twitched slightly as he wondered why Wynter still hadn't turned around. He had been counting, and his patience was wearing thin.

Dalton narrowed his eyes and was about to step forward when the same nonchalant voice spoke up again.

"Everyone must have seen the scene within the Celestial Orb by now. The sacred statue seems particularly fond of Mr. Winston and intends to seize his body."

The immortal sects had long taken note of Raleigh's unique horoscope. Just by glancing at his face, it was clear he was prone to attracting malevolent spirits.

Logically, someone with such a birthdate would have struggled to survive into adulthood. Yet, against all odds, Raleigh had never been plagued by evil spirits.

Noticing the elders' growing curiosity, Wynter suddenly smiled. "Mr. Winston's horoscope is indeed uncommon. There's no need for me to explain—it's evident to all of you. Typically, there are only two possible reasons why someone with such a fate has been able to live undisturbed until now.

"One possibility is that a being of immense power has been protecting him at all times. The other is that something by his side is so fearsome that even malevolent spirits dare not approach."

She cast a calm gaze at Raleigh. "What I'm about to reveal may overturn everything you've believed for years, but clarity is necessary to move forward. Your familial ties are weak, yet your birth mother devoted her entire existence to shielding you—even beyond death."

With a wave of her hand, a spirit seal emerged on Raleigh's body. It was a mark left behind by someone who had poured the last of their strength into its creation. The sect elders, observing it closely, could see that whoever had cast this seal must have suffered immensely to do so.

"This… What is this…?" Raleigh stared at the mark, eyes widening in shock. He had never seen it before.

Wynter met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "Your mother, to keep you hidden and safe from possession, bound her resentment into this seal. The underworld itself recorded this grievance, which is why he cannot act against you freely despite being right beside you."

"He?"

Wynter's words left little room for misinterpretation. The sect elders exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes subtly shifting toward Isidore.

Jervis, finally grasping Wynter's implication, stiffened, his reaction immediate and defensive. "What are you trying to say? Speak plainly! Are you accusing Mr. Camron? Do you have any idea how many great formations he has broken—"

"The sacred statue from the formation is right here for all to see," Wynter cut in, uninterested in hearing about past accomplishments. Her gaze lifted slightly. "I've brought it with me. You may examine it yourselves."

"You brought it out?" Feradach shuddered, his voice tinged with fear.

The others instinctively took a step back, alarmed. Who in their right mind would carry an object worshipped by grim spirits into the open?

Holding the statue, Wynter's lips curled into a faint smile. "The features bear a striking resemblance to Mr. Camron. Initially, I considered the possibility that this was an elaborate setup, which is why I placed a merit seal on that soul fragment."

Her gaze flickered toward Raleigh. "It was in doing so that I uncovered the spirit seal on Mr. Winston. And through that, I realized—Mrs. Winston wasn't guarding against just anyone. She was specifically guarding against Mr. Winston's sage, Isidore Camron."

"That's impossible!" Mt. Lunther's disciples erupted in protest, their faces flushing with anger. "You can't make baseless accusations like this! Just because Raleigh has a spirit seal doesn't mean it was meant to guard against Mr. Camron!"

Today had already been an immense humiliation for Mt. Lunther. If Isidore was truly the one feeding on the immortal sects' souls, what would become of their sect's reputation? They couldn't allow such a truth to take hold.

A senior cultivator nearby attempted to calm the disciples, but the damage was already done.

Dudley let out a heavy sigh. "Merit seals cannot be removed quickly. Since Wynter dares to make this claim, it means she has already established a connection with her merit seal."

Mt. Lunther's disciples grew frantic. A connection with the merit seal? What did that mean? As disciples still in training, few of them had ever obtained merit.

Golden encounters were common, but merit was different—it had to be willingly granted by the souls of the wronged. Ordinary spirits wouldn't suffice. The soul had to either possess merit from their lifetime or have been trapped in suffering for over 50 years after death.

With their current level of cultivation, they would normally avoid such vengeful spirits at all costs, let alone seek merit from them. Because of this, they failed to realize that merit seals were inherently tied to the one who placed them.

But more than that, no one in the sects would waste their own merit in such a reckless manner. Even the elders had never done such a thing.

They had underestimated Wynter. There was a madness to her that no one else possessed. Fortunately, she walked the Sacred Path. Who knew what she might have become if she had turned to witchcraft?

Meanwhile, Dudley continued to observe Wynter, who smiled.

"As expected of an elder. You're well-informed. I did, in fact, sense my merit seal here. If you all wish to see it more clearly, that can be arranged."

With a flick of her finger, she revealed the lucky token she had used in the formation to manipulate the spirit token. In the Epoch Collection's presence, no creatures could conceal its true nature.

The moment Isidore saw the lucky token, he knew there was no room left for denial. Before the merit seal on his body could fully materialize, he seized the nearest disciple by the throat.

The unfortunate soul happened to be the one standing closest to him. Initially, he had planned to discreetly transfer his consciousness into Raleigh without drawing suspicion, but Wynter had ruined everything!

Isidore glared at Wynter, his expression now openly malicious. His eyes burned with fury, his voice turning rough and aged. "I underestimated you. You concealed your cultivation well in Granville Village. When did you place the merit seal on me?"

He didn't understand how he hadn't noticed at all.

Wynter arched an eyebrow, her smile barely there. "I didn't."

Feradach was surprised by the revelation! Why did she say she did if she hadn't?

Isidore's face twisted in rage, veins bulging across his hands. "You dare toy with me!"

"Without a little trickery, how else could I make you reveal your true form?" Wynter said lightly, her tone almost aggravatingly relaxed. "After all, your position carries weight. No matter how much I say, it's far more convincing for you to expose yourself."

She cast a glance at Mt. Lunther's disciples. Her proof had silenced their objections. Mt. Lunther had lost all dignity now.

Isidore was strangling one of their own. The disciple dangled helplessly in the air, his hands outstretched, silently pleading for help from the surrounding sects.

"You're just like your sage—harming others while dooming yourself! You waste your talent pretending you don't care for the Sacred Path, claiming that you only want peace of mind.

"Well, look at me now! I'm neither a human nor a spirit! But trust me when I say your precious Mt. Nyxvarn won't fare any better! That boy you brought with you… The Mirror of Truth may not expose him, but we both know he's not as simple as he seems!"

His gaze swept over the crowd. "Do you really think that taking me down will solve all your problems? Think! How could a mere mortal pass through Granville Village unharmed?

"One bears a demonic manifestation, and the other comes from the Wretched Ground—either one of them alone is enough to destroy your sects!"

"Enough!" The voice belonged to Ailithir, who had remained silent until now. He looked at Isidore. "I should have realized sooner that you were still alive. My dear junior, you are beyond redemption."

"Junior?" the disciples murmured in confusion. "Why is Mr. Glaisne calling him junior?"

Ailithir took a step forward. "Mt. Lunther truly has no control over him. He shattered my soul once and was sent tumbling down the mountain's cliff. I thought he had perished, but here he stands, holding the title of sect leader.

"That should have been impossible. What have you done to Mt. Lunther's true sect leader?"

Isidore let out a sharp laugh. "As expected of my senior, you understand me well. Lemoine? He was devoured long ago."

His tone was devoid of remorse as he continued, "At least you are willing to admit the truth. This all started because of you. If you hadn't exposed me, making it impossible for me to continue cultivating, I wouldn't have had to take this path."

Ailithir remained silent, but his fists were clenched tightly, as if this moment had become a demon he could not shake.

Around them, hushed whispers grew louder. Someone murmured that there had once been such a figure in Mt. Nyxvarn. There was once a disciple who had been cast out, supposedly for committing a grave offense. Could that person have been Isidore all along? What had truly happened back then?

Wynter chose this moment to speak. "What does the path you chose have to do with my sage? From the very beginning, you abused your position as a sect elder, forcing the villagers at Nyxvarn Village to send suitable women up the mountain all for your so-called dual cultivation practices.

"The weight of your sins is immeasurable. Mt. Nyxvarn never wanted someone like you. If not for my sage's intervention, even more innocent lives would have been ruined."

Her gaze swept across the gathered cultivators. "But clearly, Mt. Lunther lacks someone as righteous as my sage. They all revere you as a respected elder and senior, including Mr. Manley.

"I highly doubt that everyone was oblivious to your actions. With your methods, you made sure some benefited from them.

"Take Mt. Lunther's current approach to selecting female cultivators and hunting spirit beasts solely for their spirit cores for example. It aligns perfectly with your ideology. You gave the orders, and they carried them out without hesitation.

"If we are to speak of retribution, it should fall on those who enabled you, not my sage."

Wynter's words carried weight, as though challenging the heavens themselves. She had fought tirelessly to sever Ailithir from the chains of retribution.

"We will take responsibility for our faults. But for those that aren't ours, do not pin them on my sage again!"