Chapter 1182: Staying at Zinno Hotel
Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
In comparison, they were considered quite ordinary!
Within the confines of the Small Divine City, folks rode spirit beasts into the ancient city, and some even soared on flying spirit beasts.
Now, as for Braydon Neal, he strolled in with just a white ape, giving off the vibe of a casual pet owner.
It seemed way more commonplace!
At the city gate, instead of a constant stream of people coming and going, there were checkpoints where officials collected spirit stones from those entering.
To gain entry to the small divine city, one had to fork out ten small spirit stones, no exceptions.
Or else entry would be denied.
Three gateways awaited visitors: one for regular locals to line up, another for carriages, and the third was a hassle-free green lane.
Yet, the fees for the latter two were noticeably steeper.
There was no waiting in line for the green lane – a flat rate of 100 small spirit stones for everyone.
Carriages, typically caravans, had to shell out a whopping 1,000 spirit stones each for entering and departing.
Of course, Braydon wasn’t one to queue up; he headed straight for the green lane.
The middle-aged captain overseeing the checkpoint was a notable figure.
“Three hundred small spirit stones for two people and a beast,” he announced.
“No spirit stones on me. Can I compensate with beast cores?” The little fool asked, rummaging through a bag for a beast core.
A third-level spirit beast’s beast core!
Worth a fortune.
Each one easily valued at a hundred thousand small spirit stones.
The middle-aged captain was taken aback by the audacious move.
The odds of a third-level spirit beast forming a beast core were about one in ten.
Yet, a third-level spirit beast with a beast core surpassed others of its level in strength.
Quickly, the middle-aged captain said, “If you’re short on resources, go to the city’s trading firm and exchange the beast cores for spirit stones. Pay the entrance fee whenever you can.”
“No need!” Braydon was not concerned about losing the third-level beast core.
The middle-aged captain noticed a pile of beast cores in the little fool’s bag, mostly fifth-level ones!
Their value was staggering.
“He needs one too,” Braydon added, pointing toward the white ape.
“Ah, sir, our establishment has a special spot for spirit beasts. It’s way more budget-friendly than a guest room,” one of the girls suggested gently.
“No, thanks.”
Braydon stepped into Zinno Hotel, took a quick glance at the retro hall, and didn’t linger.
He swiftly asked someone to guide him to the guest room to rest.
Zinno Hotel had three main sections: the guest room area, the spirit herb market, and the spirit artifact trading space.
Once in his guest room, Braydon shed his worn-out clothes, immersed himself in the bathtub, and closed his eyes to unwind.
After days in the wilderness, dealing with the little fool and ensuring no trouble ensued, Braydon needed a break.
Time passed.
He only stirred when he heard movement nearby.
Two girls were by the bathtub, their oval faces, delicate features, and clear eyes suggesting elegance.
While lighting incense and tossing red petals into the bath, they explained, “Sir, you were fast asleep, and we called out to you. As you did not respond, we assumed you didn’t mind.”
Annoyed, Braydon frowned. “Who gave you permission to enter?”
“Apologies, sir. We are maidservants of Zinno Hotel, here to serve our guests,” one in a pink dress explained timidly.
Bathing and attending to guests were what they should do.
Little did he know, in the ruins, especially among the aborigines, there was the existence of slaves.
The aborigines at the lowest level were entirely the private property of the strong.
Some people’s status was even lower than that of a spirit beast.
And the two girls were maidservants in Zinno Hotel.
This was nothing new for Braydon, having encountered similar situations on Heavenly Mountain.
Braydon stepped out of the bath, allowing the two maidservants to dry him and dress him in the white attire provided by Zinno Hotel.
“What are your names?” Braydon inquired.
“I’m Lewa, and she’s Hala,” Lewa replied timidly.
Braydon nodded, his eyes shifting toward the Northern King Sword on the bed.
Cracks from the battle with Ghauth Hatendi rendered it ineffective against fourth-level spirit beast scales. It needed reforging.
Should he do it himself or hire someone in this Small Divine City with its undoubtedly skilled blacksmiths?
The martial arts civilization in these ruins had to be superior to the outside world.