The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1983

Arvel's voice was steady and low. "The three of us will give our all if you need our help."

Wynter, catching his resolve, drew Arvel and the other two aside. "Things in Havenia have been tense lately. I need you to keep watch at the port. Someone's planning to smuggle Cascadian relics overseas.

"They're likely to move in three days, and I'll be there with my people to catch them in the act. Until then, I'll have to rely on you."

"Consider it done," Arvel said with a firm wave of his hand. "But how did you find out about this? We've been here the whole time and haven't heard a word."

"I can't tell you," Wynter replied with a faint arch of her brow. "The Celestial secrets are not to be spoken. I'm trusting the relics' safety to you three."

Bruce gave a slight nod. "Your task is ours as well. We won't press for an answer since you can't tell us more. We'll head for the port now."

Unbeknownst to them, a black-robed figure lingered in the distance, muttering under his breath, "My lord has prepared a fine gift for you. Do enjoy it."

In a flash, he vanished.

"My thanks to all of you," Wynter said softly.

"No worries," Arvel replied before leading Bruce and Jerold toward the port.

When they were out of sight, Wynter returned to Dalton. "Let's go."

She and Dalton started off in another direction, but Wolf stayed rooted to the spot.

Wynter glanced back. "Wolf, what is it?"

"Boss, something feels wrong," Wolf said with a furrowed brow.

"What exactly feels wrong?" Wynter approached him upon hearing that. "Don't tell me you're dizzy from hunger."

Wolf looked up. "Well… I am hungry."

With a small laugh, Wynter took his tiny hand and headed to the exit. "Come on, I'll buy you something delicious."

Dalton's gaze darkened slightly as he looked toward the right, as though he already foresaw what was about to unfold.

As they walked along the street, a voice called out, "Ice cream! Creamy, delicious ice cream!"

Wynter followed the sound and spotted a middle-aged man pushing a cart before she walked over.

The vendor stopped. "I only have one cone left. Do you want it?"

"Yes," Wynter replied. "Please wrap it up."

"Alright. That will be two dollars," the vendor said as he quickly wrapped the ice cream and handed it to her.

After paying, Wynter walked back with the cone in hand. "Wolf, do you want a bite?"

Wolf shook his head. "I can't eat sweets. Grandma says too much sugar makes your teeth fall out."

Wynter smiled and took a bite herself before murmuring, "It still tastes the same."

Dalton's gaze softened. "Let's eat as we walk. We should find a restaurant where Wolf can get a proper meal."

Wynter nodded, and the three of them moved on until they unexpectedly spotted Arvel and his companions ahead.

Wynter stopped short. She was certain Arvel's group had gone toward the port, while she headed in the opposite direction. It defied logic for them to cross paths.

Arvel turned and looked just as surprised. "Ms. Quinnell? What are you doing here? Aren't we splitting up?"

"It seems something unusual has happened. Let's turn back," Wynter replied calmly.

She started walking again, and Arvel's team followed.

Halfway back, the same vendor's cry rang out, "Ice cream! Creamy, delicious ice cream!"

Wynter walked straight toward him, and he asked, "I only have one cone left. Do you want it?"

"Do you not know me?" Wynter asked after a pause.

"No. Should I?" the man said, scratching his head.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else. Please carry on," Wynter said as she frowned slightly.

The vendor muttered to himself as he pushed his cart away, "Here I was, thinking I'd caught a break with the ladies."

Arvel glanced at her. "What's going on, Ms. Quinnell?"

"I think someone's trying to lure us here." Wynter's gaze remained calm. "I just bought the last cone from him at this exact spot, but now he's carrying on with his sales and doesn't remember me."

"Do you think we might be caught in an Illusory Formation?" Arvel asked with his brow furrowed. "The last sect leader's notes say that the stronger your cultivation, the more advanced the formation you'll face. That's why we didn't sense it."

Wynter nodded. "It's most likely an Illusory Formation. The people here are real, which means they may also be trapped inside."

Arvel's voice turned grave. "Then, what about the mission you gave us? What if the relics are moved while we're stuck here?"

Bruce agreed. "Breaking this Illusory Formation may be beyond us unless we find the heart of the formation."

Wynter pondered for a moment.

Isidore had hidden his energy for so long that even Wolf hadn't sensed him. However, he had released them once they left the port. It seemed that his plan was to lure them and trap them here.

Dalton added, "He must have known someone would come if he revealed his energy. That's why he set this formation here."

An Illusory Formation was a formation that blurred truth and falsehood in an endless cycle. The only way out was to find the heart of the formation hidden among its repeating people or objects.

Wynter turned to Arvel. "We'll split up. Find the heart, and the formation will collapse."

"Understood." With that, Arvel led Bruce and Jerold off into the distance.

Inside the formation, only Wynter, Dalton, Wolf, and the Philander brothers retained their own consciousness.

Wynter led them back to where the ice cream vendor was. It was the same hawking cry and the same middle-aged man.

She gave him just a glance before continuing forward.

After walking a bit further, they came across Arvel's group again.

"Ms. Quinnell," Arvel came closer, "it would take us forever to find it at this rate."

Wynter gave a slight nod, then suddenly turned and fixed her gaze on the middle-aged man. "I've found it, Arvel."

Without hesitation, she strode toward the man pushing the cart. "A cone, please. A dollar, correct?"

"It has always been two. Where did you hear a dollar?" the man replied, looking at her.

Wynter nodded. "Two, then. I'll pay now. Wrap it up for me."

"Alright." The man packed the ice cream and was just handing it over when Wynter moved faster, seizing his wrist. "Good act, but I spotted the flaw."

The man froze before his gaze sharpened. "How did you figure it out?"

The man suddenly remembered something before leaving. "One more thing. When I went to Mt. Darkwood as you instructed, I found their gates destroyed and didn't see a single person."

"Destroyed? By whom?" Isidore frowned.

He had been counting on Mt. Darkwood's sect leader, Brodie, to find the sacred item for him, but now, the entire mountain was gone.

"I don't know," the man replied. "But whoever it was, they had to be powerful, so much so that even Mt. Darkwood's sect leader had no chance."

"Useless." Isidore's gaze sharpened. "Forget it. The search for the sacred item must continue. If they're gone, so be it."

"Yes, my lord." The man turned to leave.

...

Meanwhile, Wynter and the others arrived at a restaurant.

From a distance came mocking voices. "Look at her. She ordered a well-done steak and is eating it without cutting it up properly. How hilarious."

"Is she serious? This is so embarrassing! I've never seen anyone eat a well-done steak by biting it off in chunks. What a joke!"

"I don't even know why they let her into this restaurant. Eating with her here is an eyesore."

"Manager, kick this girl out. She even has a dog with her. How unhygienic."

Soon, the restaurant manager approached the girl. "Hello, this is a restaurant. Pets aren't allowed inside."

"Sorry, but this is a guide dog," the girl, Sadie Littlewood, said, her fists gripping the leash tightly.

The manager bowed slightly. "I understand, but our policy strictly prohibits pets from entering."

"I know the rules," Sadie said as she lifted her head. "But Havenia's laws clearly state that guide dogs are allowed in public places. Also, my guide dog is very well-behaved. It stays on the floor and won't bite anyone."

The manager grew impatient. "Whether it's a dog or a guide dog, the restaurant's rules cannot be broken. Please leave."

Others chimed in.

"That's right. Bringing a dog here ruins our dining experience! It's unhygienic!"

"Leave quickly! Stop lingering here!"

"The manager already told you to leave. Why are you still in that chair? Are you trying to cause trouble?"

Sadie had no choice but to explain. "My guide dog is my eyes. I can't leave my eyes outside when I go out, can I?"

"Enough," the manager said, refusing to listen further. "I'm saying this one last time—take the dog outside."

Wynter, who had been watching the scene, turned to the manager. "Can't special circumstances be handled differently?"

The manager turned around. "We can't make exceptions. The restaurant's policy is clear. Besides, all these customers are saying the dog affects their dining experience. I can't ignore that."

"Are you disregarding Havenia's laws just to prioritize these people's dining experience?" Wynter stood up as she continued, "If these customers truly mind, have the girl sit at my table. That way, she won't bother them."

But the manager stubbornly stuck to the rules. "No. I'm responsible for customer complaints, so the dog must leave."

"Rules are rigid, but people are alive," Wynter said, her gaze sharp. "Why can't she sit at my table? Has this guide dog jumped on their table or bitten anyone?"

The manager said sternly, "Would you really be fine with her taking the dog to your table?"

"Yes," Wynter said, glancing sideways. "This girl and her guide dog are at least 100 times better than some of the filthy people in this world."