Chapter 45: The Route

By the time Jet and Frey left the restaurant, the lunch crowd had thickened across the avenue.

Their argument had settled one question, but agreeing to spend a week in the Beyond meant very little if they wandered into the Thousand Boughs without knowing where they were going.

Jet had already tried that once and had nearly become rabbit food. He had no intention of repeating it.

Frey suggested asking one of the weapon merchants for directions, which Jet rejected immediately because anyone selling equipment had an obvious reason to send inexperienced Walkers somewhere that required more equipment.

After checking one of the public directory pillars scattered through the district, they found what they needed: the Zenith Expedition Information Hall, an administrative service jointly maintained by the Citadel’s governing Guilds and several independent Walker associations.

The building occupied an old rectangular structure whose dark stone exterior had been expanded with two modern wings. Inside, the first floor opened into a hall large enough to swallow the lobby of a small hotel.

Information counters lined both sides, while suspended screens displayed weather changes, recently reported monster movements, blocked routes, missing expedition notices and warnings submitted by returning teams.

The main attraction stood farther inside. An enormous three-dimensional map occupied most of the central chamber, projected above a circular platform and surrounded by smaller terminals.

Zenith Citadel sat near the middle as a bright marker, but the mapped territory spreading around it made Jet slow down. Forest stretched in every direction, broken by rivers, ravines, marshes, stone formations and sections where the projection became deliberately vague.

His first Descent had covered such a tiny patch that the route barely deserved a line on the display.

The map wasn’t divided into neat numbered hunting grounds. Instead, decades of deaths, expeditions and accumulated reports had produced practical danger classifications.

The Citadel Safe Perimeter formed the innermost zone, patrolled regularly and kept relatively clear of dangerous monsters. Beyond it spread the Outer Hunting Belt, where Lesser Monsters were common and low-ranked Walkers conducted most beginner expeditions.

Farther out lay the Deep Wilderness, where routes became less reliable and stronger creatures appeared frequently enough that inexperienced teams were warned away.

Restricted Territories were worse: known nests, abnormal environments, powerful territorial monsters or locations controlled for reasons the public notices didn’t always explain.

Beyond the dependable maps were Uncharted Zones, places where information became fragments rather than routes.

He found Sector 4-092 after adjusting the display and stared at the marker for his Personal Anchor.

It sat inside the Outer Hunting Belt, although farther from the maintained routes than he had realized. Jet traced the rough path he’d taken during his first Descent and eventually found the area where he believed he’d encountered the Vorpal Bunny.

A warning icon hovered near the broader section, noting sporadic sightings of unusually dangerous Lesser predators. He had spent his first trip believing the Beyond simply introduced newcomers by trying to murder them immediately.

Apparently he’d just been unlucky. Frey leaned closer, followed his finger, and started laughing. "You landed there? Brother, the Beyond saw your face and took it personally."

Jet closed the display. "Keep laughing. At least I got a Relic out of it."

Frey’s laughter stopped. "You’re becoming unpleasant."

They spent the next hour moving between the map and the information terminals, quickly discovering why choosing a hunting ground wasn’t as simple as finding the nearest cluster of monsters. 𝑓𝑟ℯℴ𝓂

The areas closest to Zenith were already filling with newly awakened Second Generation Walkers. Several routes that had once been recommended for inexperienced teams now showed unusually high traffic, and recent reports complained that common Lesser Monster populations were being hunted faster than they could spread back into those areas.

Frey suggested going deeper to escape the crowds.

Jet rejected anything that pushed them too far into the Deep Wilderness. They were two 1-Stars with powerful Divine Runes, not immortal idiots, and the Bell-Tower Executioner had already demonstrated how quickly a modest difference in raw strength could become a serious problem.

They settled on five requirements and argued over nearly every candidate that followed. The destination needed enough Lesser Monsters to make a week worthwhile, but not a concentration that could bury them through numbers.

It needed useful Cores and materials, terrain they could reasonably navigate, and a route back to Zenith that didn’t require crossing a death zone if either of them was injured.

They also wanted somewhere far enough from the main beginner routes that they wouldn’t spend every hour competing with dozens of new teams.

Frey cared more about strong prey. Jet cared more about having options if something stronger than expected appeared. After Greyhaven, neither pretended that classifications were promises.

The hall itself gave them plenty to watch while they searched. A group of young Walkers near another terminal loudly debated which of them should lead because all four apparently had "leadership-type personalities."

Ten meters away, three veterans sold hand-drawn route notes to newcomers and refused to lower their price despite increasingly desperate bargaining. Guild recruiters prowled the room with the patience of fishermen, approaching anyone whose equipment or registered Rune rank suggested money or potential.

Porters advertised reinforced packs and hauling services near the doors, while expedition teams pinned requests for healers, trackers, harvesters and scouts to the recruitment boards.

The excitement of the Second Generation was everywhere, but so were reminders that the Beyond didn’t care about excitement.

One reminder arrived through the doors while Jet was reviewing a river route. Four Walkers carried a fifth between them on a collapsible stretcher, his lower body covered beneath a blood-soaked emergency blanket.

A medical team met them before anyone needed to shout. People moved aside, watched for a few seconds, then returned to their business.

Not long afterward another expedition entered laughing, dragging the severed head of some horned beast on a reinforced cart while one member waved at friends across the hall.

Success and disaster used the same entrance. Jet watched both groups disappear in opposite directions before returning his attention to the map. Frey didn’t make a joke this time.

Jet’s memories of the next ten years helped, but not nearly enough to replace current information. In his previous life he’d heard the names of famous Beyond territories, major disasters, newly discovered ruins and hunting regions that later became enormously valuable.

He remembered headlines and stories traded between Awakeners at work.

That didn’t mean he’d personally explored them. He had never been an elite Walker, and knowing that some valley became famous six years from now was useless if he couldn’t remember exactly where that valley was.

Worse, the Second Red Moon had only just occurred. Conditions could differ from what he remembered.

So he used his future knowledge as a warning bell rather than a map, quietly eliminating two regions whose names he associated with later trouble without pretending he knew every tree between Zenith and the horizon.

Eventually Frey called him over to a terminal displaying a route east of the Citadel. It began along a maintained expedition road, crossed a shallow river at an established ford, then branched into a broad stretch of the Outer Hunting Belt that received considerably less traffic than the western routes.

Recent reports showed regular Lesser Monster activity, several harvestable plant zones and no confirmed territorial predator dominating the area.

There were dangers: the eastern edge approached the Deep Wilderness, and two reports from the previous month mentioned tracks believed to belong to something stronger than the local Lesser creatures.

That was enough to keep casual beginners away without making the entire region suicidal.

Jet studied the retreat options with more interest than anything else today. Two marked shelters sat along the main route, and a secondary trail curved back toward Zenith without crossing the river if flooding made the ford unusable.

"This one works," he said. "We stay inside the western half until we know what we’re dealing with. If the reports are wrong or something starts pushing monsters out of the east, we leave instead of investigating."

Frey folded his arms. "You know saying that now means you’re absolutely going to investigate when something weird happens."

"I’m capable of self-control."

"You fought a giant rabbit with a stick."

"I didn’t choose the rabbit."

"You chose the stick."

Jet stared at him for a moment before turning back to the terminal. "We’re taking this route."

The free public map provided only major roads and broad warnings. Detailed information came separately, compiled from verified expedition reports and updated by professional cartographers employed through the Citadel administration.

Their chosen package included terrain detail, known water sources, shelter locations, common monster territories, recent migration reports, harvesting notes, emergency retreat routes and updates recorded within the previous thirty days.

Jet approved immediately. Frey saw the price in Lesser Core equivalents and physically leaned toward the screen as if getting closer might reveal a missing decimal.

"They’re charging this much for a fucking map? For that price, someone better walk beside me and point at every monster personally."

Jet glanced at him. "You spent more than that making your car louder, so don’t suddenly discover financial responsibility in the Beyond."

Frey looked offended by the comparison. "That was an investment. The factory exhaust lacked personality, and I corrected a serious engineering failure."

"An investment in what?"

Frey answered with complete confidence. "Public morale. Did you not see those people smiling when I arrived yesterday? I provide a service."

Jet paid his share before the conversation could become even stupider. The route package transferred to their Walker interfaces, unfolding into a detailed map neither had possessed an hour earlier.

Frey eventually paid the other half while muttering about institutional robbery, then saved the route and checked the eastern trail again.

For the first time since they’d entered the hall, they had something better than enthusiasm and powerful Runes. They had a destination, a retreat plan and enough information to avoid walking blindly into the forest.

Jet closed the map and looked toward the crowded avenue outside. "Route’s done. Now we need supplies."

Frey adjusted the twin blades behind his waist and grinned. "Finally. Shopping."