Chapter 34: The Market District and the Next Step

  The next two days in the Highwind Outpost were a masterclass in the quiet, restorative slice of life that adventurers desperately craved between grueling combat encounters. With the threat of the Shadow-Walker gone and their pockets heavy with silver, Zeno and Lyra spent the time indulging in preparation and recovery.

  Lyra focused on practical upgrades. She visited several highly specialized armorers, utilizing her silver to replace the worn, fraying straps on her green leather armor with high-tensile, wind-resistant spider silk. She bought a sturdy, weatherproof travel cloak, a new set of rugged climbing boots, and a massive supply of high-grade whetstones. She moved through the market with the confidence of someone who owed nothing to anyone.

  Zeno, however, had a different priority.

  He wandered the market district, his nose twitching at the scents of roasted nuts and baked bread. He ate his fill, of course, consuming massive quantities of mountain goat stew to refill his 450-capacity core. But as he walked past a blacksmith’s stall, something caught his eye.

  It wasn't a sword. It wasn't a shield.

  Sitting in the corner of the smithy, gathering dust, was a massive, black cast-iron cauldron. It was thick, heavy, and capable of holding at least three gallons of stew. It had a sturdy iron handle and a heavy lid. To a normal traveler, carrying such an object would be a back-breaking nightmare.

  Zeno walked up to it, tapping the iron with his knuckle. It made a dull, solid thud.

  "I want this," Zeno announced to the confused blacksmith.

  "That?" the smith asked, wiping soot from his forehead. "That's a camp kitchen pot, lad. It weighs forty pounds empty. You want to lug that up and down the mountains?"

  "I was cold in the cave," Zeno explained seriously, pulling out his coin pouch. "And we had no pot for the tea. Master Shifu says a warm stomach makes a warm spirit. I will buy the heavy pot. And do you have a smaller pot to put inside the big pot? For rice?"

  Ten minutes later, Zeno emerged from the smithy looking incredibly pleased with himself. He had the massive iron cauldron strapped securely to the top of his leather backpack. Inside the cauldron, he had packed bags of high-quality rice, dried lentils, a terrifying amount of salt, and several jars of exotic spices he had found at a southern trader's stall.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  He looked ridiculous. He looked like a turtle carrying a kitchen on his back. But as he bounced on his heels, the forty pounds of iron felt like nothing against his Strength stat of 26.

  On the morning of their third day, they sat together at a small, round table on the open-air balcony of The Cloudwalker inn. The sun was shining brilliantly.

  Lyra looked at Zeno, and then at the massive iron pot towering over his head behind him. She tried to suppress a smile, but failed. "You know, most Vanguards buy a helmet or a chest plate with their first big payout. You bought a portable soup kitchen."

  "You can't eat a helmet," Zeno pointed out with unassailable logic, tearing a piece of honey-drenched flatbread. "And if a monster attacks, I can hit it with the pot. It is a multi-purpose tool."

  Lyra shook her head, pulling out the letter of recommendation Elian had given them. She placed it on the table next to her new map of the Southern Continent.

  "We have our direction," Lyra said, her voice turning serious but excited. "This letter is our key. We are heading south, following the trade routes down from the plateau and into the lowlands. It will take us about three weeks of travel to reach the border of Elvaria."

  She traced the line on the map. "Elvaria is the Jungle Kingdom. It's the complete opposite of this place. It's humid, hot, and overgrown with ancient trees that block out the sun. The flora is aggressive, the fauna is massive, and the ruins are filled with traps."

  Zeno paused, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. His amber eyes lit up. "A jungle? Like the Elderwood Forest, but bigger?"

  "Much bigger," Lyra confirmed. "And much more dangerous. The monsters there don't just hide in the fog; they camouflage as trees and flowers. But with this letter to Professor Aris, we aren't just going as random wanderers. We are going as specialists."

  Zeno chewed thoughtfully. "Big trees. Weird fruit. And bad flower people trying to steal old rocks. It sounds like a lot of work for my new pot."

  "It will be," Lyra agreed. "But the pay in Elvaria is legendary for subjugation quests. And if the Black Lotus really is making a move there, we might be the only ones who see it coming."

  Zeno finished his bread and stood up. He adjusted his backpack. The massive iron cauldron clanked softly against his shoulder blades, a sound that Zeno decided he liked very much. It sounded like dinner.

  "I am not a beginner anymore," Zeno stated proudly, securing his dark Mountain Bear wraps. "I am D-Rank. I know the letter O. I can walk like the wind. And I have a kitchen on my back."

  Lyra stood up, tossing a few copper coins onto the table. She looked at her partner—the boy who defied physics and logic at every turn.

  "You're right, big guy," Lyra grinned, feeling the thrill of the open road calling to her. "We're ready. Let's go find a caravan heading down the mountain. The jungle is waiting."

  As they walked out of The Cloudwalker inn and into the bright, wind-swept morning of the Zephyrian plateau, Zeno felt his core humming steadily. His control was sharp, his stomach was full, and his friend was free. The journey to a thousand chapters was incredibly long, but as he looked toward the southern horizon, entirely ready to face the massive, untamed wilderness of Elvaria, Zeno knew the real adventure was only just beginning.