Yone was certain that this tournament held far more secrets than anyone could imagine, or else the continent's powers wouldn't continue sending their top geniuses to participate every century.
Pushing aside these distracting thoughts, Yone bid Sara and her father farewell. His mind was now focused on sorting out his plans and, more importantly, assessing the loot he had acquired after the carriage's destruction.
He still had Raven Armend stored in his system's inventory and the remnant spirit within his ring.
The anticipated benefits he might gain from these two excited him, given their unique qualities.
Yone had never encountered anything like a soul surviving after its body was destroyed in his previous world.
He was curious about the cultivation base and techniques the other party had practiced to achieve such a feat.
With steady steps, Yone headed to the residence Sara had mentioned—where newcomers to the city or those wishing to conduct business could rest.
Sara had also asked him to visit her after a few days, as she wanted to reward him for saving her life. Yone, of course, wasn't someone to turn down free resources.
Arriving at the residence, Yone stood before a three-story building illuminated by white light bulbs at the entrance. The lights made the two guards stationed there clearly visible, even in the darkness of the night.
"Is this place really cheap?" Yone wondered skeptically.
He had asked Sara to recommend a place that wasn't too expensive, and she had directed him here. But now, Yone wasn't so sure anymore.
It wasn't that he lacked money; he just felt that he might need to save the spiritual stones, Olivia, the identification branch leader, had given him. After all, he knew that the further someone went down the cultivation journey, the more money he would need to spend in order to buy all the various resources he needed.
Even though he was obviously planning on never purchasing if not needed, since he could plunder whatever he needed, the god-like entities behind the royal families of the various kingdoms and their strength made him a bit hesitant to act as he did in his past world.
No matter what, he could not do as he pleased for the time being. A wise man sees and mitigates foreseen risks, what more to say for a devil? When there is insufficient strength, only a fool would put himself in danger.
'Damn it, this world's secrets run way too deep,' Yone inwardly cursed, he felt a sense of powerlessness washing over his soul.
He hated the fact that an individual from each kingdom ruled over everything.
In his past world, while similar old monsters existed, their strength was not unrivaled, which allowed him to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them. Even a few unaffiliated individuals could confront these powerful beings without backing down.
However, in this world, it felt different. The cultivators seemed like sheep, so tamed that the kingdoms resembled farms overseen by these rulers.
As Yone made his way to the building, he noticed how cultivators obediently handed over their IDs at every place they entered. He even spotted some calmly purchasing weapons and other strange items without uttering a word or trying to take them by force.
He then suppressed the rage he was feeling and walked up to the entrance of the building.
One of the guards, a burly man who radiated peak foundation establishment aura, asked, "Your ID" he said with an outstretched hand while looking at Yone suspiciously.
Retrieving his ID from his inventory, Yone watched as the man's eyebrow arched in surprise.
Returning Yone's ID, the man looked at the kid with a new light.
"You may enter," he said opening the door.
"Innkeeper, do you have any rooms available?" Yone went in and asked for any available rooms.
"Yes, yes. We have rooms available on both the second and third floors. Not only are they affordable, but they're also tidy and clean. The first floor is our cafeteria, where hotel guests can enjoy their meals. If you prefer, we can also deliver food directly to your room." The hotel receptionist spoke with warmth and hospitality, treating Yone with care despite his young age.
This hotel was the only one in the city, but business was not thriving. It often felt deserted, except when the Sword Cliff branch or other sects came to recruit disciples—then, the hotel would be bustling with guests.
Feeling a bit hungry, Yone handed over three round pieces of spiritual stones to the receptionist. "Get me a good room, and have two jars of wine and three or four different dishes prepared. Return any excess balance to me."
He then recalled his body's age and unwillingly said," Forget the wine, bring only the dishes."
"Done." The hotel receptionist took the three pieces of spiritual stones and asked, "Would you like to eat in your room, or dine in the hall?"
Yone glanced at the sky, noticing the sun climbing higher, nearing its peak. It was almost midday. He decided he could eat in his room while sorting through his loot, then head directly to the Sword Cliff branch to enter seclusion once he was done. "I'll eat in the room," he replied.
As he was about to leave, curiosity got the better of him. He turned back and asked, "Innkeeper, why did you call this place a hotel when mentioning the workers?"
The receptionist gave him a puzzled look but quickly recalled that she was speaking to a child, likely one who had read many stories in his free time. She explained, "In our kingdom and the neighboring ones, there are no inns. Places where people rent rooms are called hotels. The name was suggested to our ancestors by the god-entity himself."
Yone nodded in understanding. It was just a different title, and he didn't dwell on it, he was just curious about the origins and the receptionist understood his meaning.
The hotel had a dining hall with a dozen square tables, each surrounded by four long benches. Thick pillars supported the structure, and the floor was paved with large marble tiles.
Three tables were occupied. At one, an old man sat by the window, drinking wine and gazing at the people walking down the street, lost in solitude. In the middle of the cafeteria, three cultivators sat together, loudly recounting their hunting exploits. A pile of prey from Snow Lake—small wolves and eagles—lay at their feet.
In a shadowed corner, a young figure sat at another table, his identity was obscured by the darkness, making it difficult to discern even his gender.