Logan Sullivan suddenly interrupted him: “Some time ago, a little crow demon used something that looked like a Virtue Quill to lure me over, and even injured my eye. To this day, my vision is still a bit off—I see double, and when I look at you, Judge sir, you look like you’ve gained eight pounds of phantom weight. So, are you saying that the so-called Virtue Quill he mentioned was a fake, and that ‘someone’ deliberately wanted to cause me trouble?”

Judge’s heart skipped a beat, caught off guard by his words. He looked up, meeting Logan Sullivan’s unreadable, half-mocking gaze, and immediately felt a wave of frustration—crows feed on carrion and have always been coerced by the underworld. If a crow was sent out, anyone could guess who was behind it. Who came up with such a stupid idea, anyway?

Judge’s mind raced, and he was starting to sweat.

“The Four Sacred Relics have been lost in the mortal world for so many years, and the underworld never cared about them, never tried to find or retrieve them. Now that something’s happened, you come to tell me it’s a big deal, acting like it’s urgent all of a sudden—doesn’t that sound fishy?”

Judge forced a smile. “This… it’s true that we didn’t think things through…”

“‘Didn’t think things through?’” Logan Sullivan raised an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like you’re relying on something?”

Judge felt like he was sitting on pins and needles.

Logan Sullivan reached out and knocked on the table, his face turning serious as he put away his smile. “Sir, we’ve worked together for years. Let’s be honest—what do you want? What do you want me to do?”

Judge cupped his hands and said, “This humble official respectfully requests that Grandmaster lead us up Highspire and break his formation.”

Logan Sullivan’s expression was calm. “What are you talking about? I’m a total homebody, not an outdoorsman. I haven’t even been to Xiangshan, let alone know which way the gate of Highspire Peak faces. You want me to lead the way?”

This reaction was finally within Judge’s expectations. He quickly recited his prepared excuse, his words flowing much more smoothly: “Perhaps Grandmaster doesn’t know—the true form of the Soulbound Order in your hand is a piece of wood, which comes from the Primewood of Highspire Peak. That Primewood was planted by Pangu and is as old as heaven and earth. The summit of Highspire Peak has always been forbidden to the gods, but this item can serve as a pass.”

Logan Sullivan pointed at the photo on the wanted poster. “Then how did this… ‘Demon King’ get up there? Does he have some special backdoor access, is he Pangu’s brother-in-law or something?”

“I wouldn’t dare blaspheme the sage like that,” Judge said, flustered. “To be honest with Grandmaster, this Fiend was born beneath the Yellow Springs, beside the Virtue Tree. That Virtue Tree and the sacred tree of Highspire Peak were originally twin-born, so he does have some connection to Highspire…”

Logan Sullivan said with a half-smile, “So setting up a formation on the summit of Highspire Peak to summon the Virtue Quill is also related to that tree?”

Judge wasn’t sure what he meant and didn’t dare answer carelessly.

Logan Sullivan said carelessly, “Beneath the Yellow Springs… Hey, why do I feel like that’s pretty close to Soulwarden’s residence?”

Hearing this, Judge deliberately put on a hesitant expression, then said ambiguously, “You could say that.”

“Oh,” Logan Sullivan’s smile deepened, but his eyes were icy cold. “So Judge is hinting to me that Soulwarden and the Fiend are quite entangled.”

Judge couldn’t tell if he was really clueless or just pretending, but he actually said out loud what should have gone unspoken. He hesitantly looked up to study Logan Sullivan’s expression, but couldn’t read anything from it.

The black notebook had already been left with him—did he know that William Sherman was Soulwarden?

Last time, the underworld messenger reported that even being blind hadn’t stopped him from rolling around with a little lover, so… he probably didn’t know, right? Otherwise, how could Soulwarden tolerate…

Judge steadied himself, stroked his beard to cover his nerves, and forced a smile. “How could a lowly one like me dare to gossip about an immortal behind his back? Grandmaster must be joking.”

Logan Sullivan glanced at him and reached for his waist. “You want the Soulbound Order, right? Let me see if I can find it for you.”

Judge quickly waved his hands. “No, no, we wouldn’t dare touch the sacred Soulbound Order. We’ll have to trouble Grandmaster to come with us to Highspire in person.”

Logan Sullivan’s movement paused, and he looked at Judge with an unreadable expression. His eyes were dark and piercingly sharp. Judge braced himself to meet his gaze, feeling like he’d taken on a thankless task.

Chapter 71 Virtue Quill …

After a long moment, Logan Sullivan finally withdrew his oppressive gaze, lowered his eyelids, and half-jokingly furrowed his brow, asking unhurriedly, “And I find this whole thing especially strange—why is it that you don’t even dare touch the Soulbound Order, but you’re willing to recognize a mere mortal like me as Grandmaster? I mean, I’m great at talking big and making stuff up, but I don’t have any real skills. I’m useless at everything, can’t get enough to eat, and I’m not too bright either. See, if someone gives me a little mind-control drug, I’m done for.”

Judge felt as if some long-unused organ in his belly was cramping up, and could only force a stiff smile. “Not at all, not at all.”

Logan Sullivan suddenly leaned forward, getting close and asking, “Don’t tell me my ancestors are connected to Highspire too? That would be something.”

Judge silently cursed his luck.

Yet Logan Sullivan still wouldn’t let him off, continuing to ramble: “And these past six months, I haven’t had a moment’s peace—first the Reincarnation Sundial, then the Terra-Spike, and now the Virtue Quill. If one more turns up, I’ll have a full set for all four directions. So, tell me, where did these Four Relics come from? Judging by this, the Virtue Quill is related to Highspire, and the Reincarnation Sundial is said to have a base made from the Three-Life Stone. I heard that when Nuwa created humans, she dropped a grain of sand while molding a clay figure, and by the time she looked up, the sand had formed a giant funnel-shaped pillar, almost piercing the sky, as if it was about to swallow the three realms. Nuwa quickly collected it and sealed it away. That stone contains people’s past, present, and future lives, so it later became known as the Three-Life Stone. That means the Reincarnation Sundial is also related to Nuwa. As for the Terra-Spike, the great Black Tortoise is of water—could it be connected to the ancient Fuxi of the Feng clan? Things are pretty deep around here, huh? Just hearing about it gives me the chills.”

Judge wiped his sweat. “I’m afraid my knowledge is too shallow to say…”

“And if this stirs up a commotion in the Thirty-Three Heavens, there’ll be plenty of experts rushing over. After all, the world and all living things—what a great merit, everyone will want to be the first to claim it. Who else is the underworld working with? The demon clan? All sorts of esoteric sects and cultivators? Immortals? Soulwarden will have to go too, to clean house, right?” As Logan Sullivan said this, he paused and glanced at Judge’s expression. “Look at me, I’m just a small fry with no skills, don’t know anyone except Soulwarden. What am I supposed to do there? Surely not…”

Judge’s heart was in his throat, and he heard Logan Sullivan give a soft laugh and slowly say, “You want me to go just to greet that lord and have a little chat, right?”

Judge was startled, jerking his head up, only to see Logan Sullivan’s face as unyielding and unmoved as ever.

For a moment, he almost felt that the man across from him could see right through him, but he couldn’t catch any clues.

Darrin Grant’s fur bristled, and it let out an unfriendly “meow” from deep in its throat—a sound more like a tiger or leopard’s growl than a cat’s meow. It stood up from Logan Sullivan’s lap, bared its sharp claws at Judge, and the bell at its neck jingled slightly.

Judge was clearly wary of it, shrinking back behind his chair. He quickly looked up at Logan Sullivan, smiling and speaking in a friendly tone: “What do you mean by that, Grandmaster…”

Logan Sullivan relaxed completely, slouching back in his chair. “I think we need to talk this over properly. It’s the New Year, and I’m just a powerless little mortal being dragged into such dangerous business. If something happens to me and I don’t live to see the spring, what then?”

Judge: “Of course, we’ll guarantee Grandmaster’s safety.”

Logan Sullivan snorted. “You can’t even get into the mountain—how are you going to guarantee my safety?”

Judge: “Well…”

Logan Sullivan seized the opportunity: “I want to bring my own people along, that’s not a problem, right?”

Judge was taken aback.

Then, he saw Logan Sullivan, this troublemaker, put on a pained expression. Seeing this, Judge couldn’t help but feel a sympathetic twinge in his own teeth. Logan Sullivan let out a long sigh. “But I don’t have enough people, you see. Most of my subordinates can only operate at night—at best, they can run errands, but they’re not much use. During the day, all I’ve got is a little snake that can barely transform, a kitten not even a foot long, an intern who can’t do anything, and a selfie-addicted teenager…”

Judge had a vague idea what he meant.

“I finally have a Corpse King who’s actually capable, but… sigh!”