Return of the Lost Heiress



Chapter 1787 The Two of Them

Dalton was taken aback and asked, "What's wrong?"

He sounded as though he hadn't had much rest, his deep, mellow voice carrying a touch of lingering allure. Apparently, he had been looking after her.

Wynter could smell the faint scent of medicine from her bed. Her grip remained tight on Dalton's wrist, leaving a red mark on his skin. A dazed look lingered in her dark eyes, as if she had yet to return to reality.

Dalton lowered his gaze as he asked patiently, "Did you have a nightmare?"

Only then did Wynter seem to regain her senses. She shook her head and questioned, " Where's Mr. Glaisne?"

"He's still in the apothecary. You gave him quite the scare when you fainted," Dalton replied, seemingly ready to answer all of her questions.

Wynter stared at Dalton's pallid face. His wrist, just as colorless, made the red mark on his skin stand out glaringly. She couldn't help but wonder how hard she had gripped him.

Her thoughts shifted to the dream she had earlier. The conversation she had overheard implied that Mt. Nyxvarn no longer existed. Its members were either fallen, dead, or scattered -none with a better fate. As for Wynter herself, she had been protected by Ailithir and started anew on Mt. Lunther.

However, it turned out that Mt. Lunther had never intended to take her in. They scorned her for her close connection with the mystic spirits and blamed her for Ailithir's fall in Primordial Arcane.

The dream gnawed on her. The conversation was likely between members from various sects, but the black mud remained a mystery. The voice in her dream had claimed that everything could change only if the heavenly law was destroyed.

Though Wynter remained skeptical, she couldn't deny that the dream had been strange. She wasn't sure if she had truly fainted upon hearing Dalton's name. The odds of meeting someone with the same name within the formation were just too unlikely.

Logically speaking, her dream resembled what was now known as a precognitive dream. Yet, it also made her realize that she couldn't have such a dream within the Sacrificial Human Formation.

Under such illogical situations, Wynter had to constantly remind herself that nothing around her was real, to the point of mental exhaustion. She was the most aware of the oddity, though she couldn't say the same for anyone else.

Cultivators often stumbled into a formation unknowingly. And when they did, the first step was always the same-to find the heart of the formation. Only when they resolved the root of the problem could they escape the formation and restore normalcy.

Yet, Wynter felt no trace of resentment or attachment within the Sacrificial Human Formation. A person's attachment could manifest in many forms, including remnants of their soul, memories, or certain objects.

But since entering the formation, Wynter found nothing unusual aside from the eerie statue. Even so, it gave off no hint of resentment, making it harder for her to locate the heart of the formation.