The warm glow of the evening sun stretched across the wooden floor, its golden rays filtering through the open windows of the inn. Outside, the sky had begun its slow descent into dusk, the orange hues deepening into red—a sign that the sun would set in another half an hour or so.
Inside, the atmosphere was lighthearted.
Near a window, Veena and Jennifer sat at a table, engaged in a tense game of chess. The delicate silver hairpin in Jennifer's hair gleamed whenever she moved, while Veena's bracelet caught the light with every calculated shift of her fingers.
"You're stalling," Jennifer accused, her lips curling into a smirk.
Veena, eyes fixed on the board, gave an exasperated sigh. "Strategy, Jennifer. A well-timed move is the key to victory."
Across the hall, Jessica was seated with Arin and Lyra, holding a scroll open between them as she explained a core concept of cultivation.
"Without a solid foundation, increasing your mana reserves recklessly will only lead to instability," Jessica lectured, her tone firm.
Arin, arms crossed, muttered, "It's easier said than done."
Lyra, in contrast, eagerly nodded along, already captivated by the lesson.
Uncle James stood nearby, arms folded as he observed the lesson. Earlier, he had guided Arin and Lyra in binding their Awakened Support Devices, officially marking their first steps into cultivation.
At the reception desk, Nile sat in place of Lyra, temporarily taking over her duties while she attended her lessons. His chin rested on his palm, fingers tapping idly against the counter. The supposed to be busy inn was unnervingly quiet, with not a single customer in sight.
This wasn't normal.
Jennifer has told them that ever since the three major gangs had begun causing trouble, business had dropped to almost nothing. No one dared to take a room here, no traveling merchants stopped by, and even the locals avoided lingering too long.
With nothing else to do, Nile's thoughts wandered.
The Oath Contract.
As soon as half of the Oath Stone liquid had been absorbed into his body, the terms had etched themselves into his mind with absolute clarity.
One particular condition stood out.
"Assist Jennifer in reclaiming the three Level 3 Cultivation Room tokens from the gangs."
His gaze darkened slightly. He had nearly forgotten about this part.
His mind sifted through what he had learned about the three dominant gangs of the town—each of them a key player in the underworld, each responsible for the steady decline of the inn's business.
The first was the Iron Fang Syndicate, known for smuggling and illegal mining. Their leader, Darren Ironclaw, was a brute of a man, as tough as his namesake suggested.
The second was the Silent Dagger Society, an organization specializing in assassinations and blackmail. Their leader, Viktor Whisperblade, was as elusive as a shadow, his people striking from the dark without warning.
The third was the Ember Serpents, infamous for their control over underground gambling and fire-elemental resources. Their leader, Rogan Flamecoil, was rumored to have mastered deadly poison techniques.
Each of these gangs was led by a Level 3, Stage 9 cultivator, with multiple subordinates ranging from Stage 1 to Stage 7. But more importantly, they weren't just street thugs acting on their own.
They were pawns.
The real power behind them lay in the nine village heads, who, alongside the town mayor, formed the Island Assembly.
This assembly wasn't just a governing body—it was the true owner of this floating island. They had won their place in the kingdom by conquering nine other islands in the Island Hunting Battlefield, a brutal contest that allowed village leaders to turn their settlements into official towns.
And like many other town islands, they had bound themselves to the nation, yet their true authority remained unquestioned.
Nile exhaled slowly.
His fingers curled slightly on the counter as his mind connected the dots. The gangs weren't just terrorizing the town for profit. They were keeping control—eliminating anyone who didn't fall in line.
Just as the realization fully formed in his mind—
BANG!
The wooden gate of the inn slammed open, sending a harsh echo through the room. The sudden force rattled the doors against their hinges, cutting through the evening's peaceful ambiance like a knife.
A heavy silence followed.
A broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his cheek stepped inside, his boots thudding against the wooden floor. Behind him, several others followed, their expressions twisted into sneers.
The man swept his gaze over the hall before resting his eyes on the small group inside.
His lips curled into a cruel grin as he spoke.
"I heard that even after all this time of giving warnings and killing, there are still fools who dare to take rooms in this inn."
The fading sunlight behind them stretched their shadows across the floor, long and menacing.
Nile slowly sat up straighter, his fingers ceasing their idle tapping.
The game had just begun.
The heavy silence that followed the intruders' arrival was soon broken by Jennifer's calm voice.
"The trouble has arrived," she remarked, her eyes briefly flickering toward Nile. A smirk played at her lips. "Let's see if you can handle the lackeys of the Iron Fang Syndicate."
Uncle James, who had been quietly observing, sighed and started to rise from his seat, clearly intending to settle the matter himself. However, before he could take a step forward, Nile raised his hand in a silent gesture, signaling him to wait.
Instead of showing any fear or hesitation, Nile straightened his posture and turned to face the newcomers. His lips curled into an amiable smile—one that mirrored Jennifer's when she had first greeted him at this very inn.
"Good evening, everyone." His voice was light, almost cheerful. "Welcome to the Red Moon Inn. What type of rooms would you like to have, sirs?"
For a brief moment, there was a pause.
The sheer absurdity of the statement caught everyone off guard.
Even Veena, who had been watching the scene unfold with calm amusement, burst into giggles at his antics. Despite the tense atmosphere, she found herself covering her mouth to stifle her laughter.