“Magical artifact, so they really are cultivators. But with such a weak spiritual light, this artifact probably isn’t even of entry grade. Even if these two are cultivators, they’re just rogue cultivators still in the Qi Refining stage—nothing to worry about.” The Marshall beside him spoke up, his voice unusually hoarse, as if someone was squeezing his throat halfway shut.

Upon hearing this, the other three’s expressions relaxed slightly. Neil even burst out laughing: “If they’re just rogue cultivators, then there’s no problem. Hazel, why aren’t you making a move? What are you waiting for!”

This time, Hazel didn’t retort. She let out a few giggles, raised one hand, and a loud whooshing sound split the air.

Amidst a wave of scorching heat, over a dozen fire pearls the size of eggs shot out from her sleeve, flying straight at Grant Sullivan and Eli. Then, she opened her mouth and spat out a red feather fan about an inch long, which, with a flick in the wind, instantly grew to about a foot in size.

“Ghost Mansion? That’s the gang of ghosts from East Kiln, right? I’ve long heard that the East Kiln ghosts act domineeringly and recklessly, claiming to be the number one power in the wilds of East Kiln. Seeing it today, the reputation is well deserved. But this isn’t the wilds of East Kiln—it’s Tiannan Prefecture.” Clark commented coolly, flipping his hand. Suddenly, a blue-black gourd appeared in his palm. With a slight shake, a layer of blue ripples spread out.

The fire pearls, upon touching the blue light, seemed to meet their nemesis and were instantly extinguished one after another.

“A water-attribute life-bound artifact—you’re a Foundation Establishment cultivator!” Hazel witnessed this and her heart immediately sank. The motion of waving her feather fan halted at once.

“Since you are a Foundation Establishment cultivator and know the name of my Ghost Mansion, it seems you’re not an unknown figure. May I ask your esteemed name and which immortal clan you hail from? Perhaps you and my Ghost Mansion share some connection.” The face beneath Marshall’s mask grew grim as he asked each word slowly, then slowly drew a pitch-black short sword from his robe.

Neil and the woman in the blue skull mask exchanged a glance, then, without another word, spread out, vaguely joining the other two in surrounding Clark.

“What do you want? My young master’s surname is Zhong, and in Tiannan Prefecture, would you dare lay a hand on someone from the The Sullivan Family?” Clark said nothing, but Eli beside him mustered his courage and shouted.

“The Sullivan Family? The The Sullivan Family of the thirty-six immortal clans?” Marshall was startled and blurted out.

“Heh, is there another immortal clan in Tiannan Prefecture that dares call itself the The Sullivan Family?” Eli, seeing Marshall’s shocked expression, looked smug.

Clark was, of course, Grant Sullivan, who had recently slain the wood demon at Mount Qijian.

He had come to the temple this time to retrieve something he had sealed away years ago, but unexpectedly, before he could get it, trouble had already come knocking. Naturally, this left him frustrated.

As for Warren, he was the Eli who had followed him ever since he entered the The Sullivan Family. This time, he needed his help to retrieve the item, so he had arranged for him to wait nearby.

“You say you’re from the The Sullivan Family, and that makes you The Sullivan Family people? I could say we’re from the Gongsun family!” Neil rolled his eyes suspiciously.

“This is the identity token of an immortal clan—you should recognize it.” Grant Sullivan’s gaze turned cold. The gourd in his hand flashed and disappeared, and with a backhanded motion, he tossed out a silvery token.

Marshall reacted quickly, grabbing the token and examining it closely several times.

On one side, the token was densely inscribed with runes; on the other, there was an image of a giant mountain, with a faint blue “Zhong” character in the center. Strangely, at first glance the character seemed unremarkable, but if one stared at it, a wave of dizziness would immediately follow.

Marshall’s heart trembled. Not daring to look further, he tossed the token back to Hazel and whispered to the others, “It’s real. This is indeed a The Sullivan Family token. After all, only those immortal clans would use Tianluo Iron to forge their identity tokens.”

Hazel checked the token as well, nodded darkly, and tossed it back to Grant Sullivan.

Though Tianluo Iron was rare, none of them dared keep the token, since who knew what strange restrictions might be placed on it.

“Since you really are from the The Sullivan Family, it’s not surprising that you’ve reached Foundation Establishment at such a young age. But this girl is a beast slave who escaped from our Ghost Mansion. Even if the The Sullivan Family is one of the three great immortal clans of Tiannan, surely you can’t stop us from capturing a traitor?” Marshall pondered for a moment, then spoke slowly.

“Traitor? If I’m not mistaken, this so-called beast slave is created by forcibly implanting demon beast blood into a human, resulting in such an appearance, right? Do you know that this practice is strictly forbidden in Tiannan? I’m already letting you off by not holding you accountable—yet you dare question me!” Grant Sullivan replied noncommittally.

“Implanting demon beast blood is strictly forbidden in Tiannan because your local clans already have another secret technique for refining demon beast bloodline marks. In Xiyuan Prefecture, where East Kiln Mountain is, there’s no such rule. Master Sullivan, are you deliberately making things difficult for us?” Neil grew angry at these words.

“I don’t care how things are done in Xiyuan, but here in Tiannan, you must follow local rules. Otherwise, I won’t hesitate to report this to my clan.” Grant Sullivan sneered, speaking bluntly.