Chapter 2

  Ethan jolted upright, his consciousness snapping back all at once. His first instinct was to check his body. The worn, dirty clothes he had been wearing after days at sea were gone, replaced with a clean set of plain white robes. The fabric wasn't new, but it was fresh and neatly laundered.

  He touched his lips, once cracked and dry from lack of water. Now, they felt much better, almost completely healed. His body, too, felt reinvigorated, as though he were brimming with energy. That sleep or rather, coma had been the most restful he'd had in a long time.

  "You're recovering well. Much faster than I anticipated."

  The unfamiliar voice startled Ethan. He immediately turned his head to see the bald figure he vaguely remembered before passing out. The person—no, the woman was sitting at a table near his bed, calmly brewing tea.

  "I gave you some rejuvenation potions while you were unconscious," the woman continued without looking at him. "Still, it's impressive that you've woken up so soon…"

  Ethan stayed silent, taking in the sight of the woman busy with her tea. Strangely, though her lips weren't moving, he could still hear her voice clearly. It felt more like the words were echoing directly in his mind.

  "Yes," she said as if reading his thoughts. "I'm using magic to establish a direct spiritual connection with you. I assumed you wouldn't understand the language of this world... young man from another world."

  At this, she finally raised her head to meet Ethan's gaze, allowing him to get a proper look at her face. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

  "Where… am I?" Ethan asked, focusing his mental energy to form the thought.

  His words caught the woman by surprise. Her eyebrows arched slightly, and a small smile graced her lips. "Ah, you're quite talented. You've grasped the basics of mental communication already. That's convenient."

  Carrying a cup of tea, she approached him and handed it over. "This is Earth," she said. "My name is the Ancient One. I'm a mage. Do you know what a mage is?"

  Ethan accepted the cup and took a careful sip. "I know."

  He didn't just know what a mage was; he also knew about Earth. After all, he had lived on Earth in his previous life, though it wasn't this Earth.

  The thought made Ethan's heart race. Wait. A spiritual link… Can she read my thoughts directly?

  Glancing at the Ancient One, Ethan tried to gauge her reaction. The enigmatic mage from the Marvel universe showed no sign of having "heard" his stray thoughts. Was she deliberately feigning ignorance, or did she truly lack the ability to read minds?

  Ethan decided to test her. He deliberately mixed his mental energy when forming his words, while letting unrelated thoughts wander in his mind. If she reacted to the random thoughts, it would mean she could read his mind.

  After a few exchanges, Ethan reached a tentative conclusion: either the Ancient One was pretending not to notice, or she truly could only "hear" messages he consciously projected.

  Though he hoped it was the latter, he couldn't dismiss the possibility of the former. Still, her composed demeanor gave him some relief. At least, she hadn't immediately deemed him a threat and eliminated him on the spot.

  As the conversation continued, the Ancient One gently probed Ethan's situation. He explained that he came from a world covered in oceans, that he was only seventeen, that his parents were gone, and that his arrival here was purely accidental.

  In return, the Ancient One clarified a few things about his current circumstances.

  The orb in Ethan's hand, it turned out, had been pointing toward dispersed space-time energy. Once it located the energy, it would absorb it. Ethan, as the host, could then use his mental power to activate a magic circle for teleportation.

  After the teleportation, the space-time energy protected the host temporarily until it was depleted. Once exhausted, the energy would automatically send the host back to their original location.

  This explanation also clarified why the Ancient One had intervened. The magic circle's intended destination wasn't the Ancient One's home at Kamar-Taj. Instead, as Earth's protector against interdimensional threats, she had intercepted Ethan's arrival the moment his presence registered as an "invasion."

  "Of course," Ethan muttered inwardly. "The Ancient One doesn't miss a thing. No wonder she intercepted me mid-teleportation. Makes you wonder how so many other fictional characters manage to slip into Marvel's world unnoticed by someone like her…"

  At least he could be thankful this was the movie version of the Ancient One. The comic version? That might have ended very differently. The Marvel comic universe was notorious for being far more chaotic and far less forgiving.

  "The energy within you is steadily depleting," the Ancient One continued, "and I estimate it will completely dissipate in about seven days."

  Ethan's heart sank. He knew the truth, the space-time energy wouldn't last seven days. It would last six. On the sixth day, when the energy reached its minimum threshold, it would automatically trigger the teleportation circle to return him to his original world.

  "It's a shame to come all this way, only to be sent back after a few meals and a nap," Ethan thought, his mood souring. But then an idea occurred to him. Would the Ancient One be willing to teach me magic?

  After a brief discussion, Ethan tentatively brought up the subject, only to be gently but firmly dismissed.

  "Your mental aptitude is… adequate," the Ancient One said tactfully. "But even with years of effort, you're unlikely to achieve much. It would be a poor use of your life."

  The message was clear: she didn't think he had the talent for magic.

  It wasn't a surprising assessment. In almost every story, becoming a mage required extraordinary aptitude, and Ethan had no delusions about himself. He was an ordinary person both in his past life and in this one.

  Still, the Ancient One wasn't entirely dismissive.

  "If your goal is simply to solve practical problems, that's achievable."

  Ethan had already explained his predicament to her, hoping to earn her sympathy. Though she wasn't one to let emotions sway her, she also wasn't the type to leave someone in a desperate situation without offering some help.

  "You have decent control over your mental energy," she said. "That's enough to learn a basic spell. With diligent practice, it should be enough to solve your water problem."

  The Ancient One guided him through the basics of the spell using their spiritual connection. This method of teaching was incredibly efficient, allowing complex concepts to be communicated far more clearly than with words alone.

  The spell itself was straightforward. It extracted water molecules referred to as "water elements" from the surrounding environment and condensed them into drinkable water. The spell's effectiveness depended heavily on the environment. It wasn't creating water out of thin air or converting magical energy into water; it simply manipulated existing water molecules.

  The spell was simple but practical, and Ethan quickly grasped the fundamentals. Now all he needed was practice.

  The spell couldn't have been more fitting for the world he came from, a world dominated by endless oceans. Everywhere he looked, there was water, and yet, none of it was drinkable.

  The only real challenge was controlling mental energy. Many people possessed strong mental energy but lacked the fine control necessary to use it effectively, which prevented them from becoming mages. Fortunately for Ethan, he had been honing his mental energy for years, ever since he first began using the glowing orb to navigate his world. This constant practice had given him a precision that bypassed what others might find difficult.

  Watching the small droplets of water gradually form in his palm, Ethan finally allowed himself a smile. This trip wasn't for nothing.

  Even better, the Ancient One had used their spiritual link to teach him a local language, freeing him from the awkward barrier of being unable to communicate with others.

  Over the next three days, Ethan explored the area as much as he could. His movements were somewhat restricted, there weren't many places he was allowed to go, and he didn't encounter many people. He didn't even see any of the "familiar faces" he half-expected.

  Though the Ancient One didn't harm him, she clearly didn't trust him enough to let him wander freely. Subtle but constant surveillance ensured that if Ethan tried to leave his designated area, someone would promptly stop him.

  Other than that, there were no real restrictions. He was free to chat with the apprentices, even discussing their magical studies. One young apprentice, in particular, seemed to delight in showing off. Armed with a smartphone, the apprentice kept flaunting it in front of Ethan, as though bullying an "otherworldly native" who didn't know what it was.

  The apprentice's smugness backfired spectacularly. Ethan, who had grown up with smartphones in his previous life, quickly taught him a lesson, particularly after figuring out how to tinker with the phone. Angry Birds, which the apprentice had proudly shown off as the latest craze, was a game Ethan had long grown bored of in his past life.

  Still, the apprentice's foolishness had a silver lining. By messing around with the phone, Ethan managed to figure out the timeline of his current location. Based on the apprentice's chatter and the release of the game, Ethan guessed it was sometime between Iron Man 1 and Iron Man 2.

  "So Doctor Strange won't show up for a few more years…" Ethan muttered to himself. Then, a thought struck him, and he grinned. "Wait, does that make me his senior?"

  Perhaps because of Ethan's "good behavior," the Ancient One eventually gave him something unexpected.

  When Ethan returned to his room that evening, he found a variety of items waiting for him: packaged food, basic living and sailing tools, a few changes of clothes, and a stack of books.

  "The energy in your body will activate tonight, sending you back to your original world," the Ancient One said as she appeared beside him. "These items should be enough to sustain you for a while."

  Her precision was nothing short of remarkable. In the few days since meeting Ethan, the Ancient One had not only figured out the exact state of the energy within his body but had also calculated the exact moment of his departure. She had even prepared everything he might need ahead of time. Truly, the title of Supreme Mage wasn't just for show.

  "Although the water-gathering spell I taught you is a simple and basic magic," she continued, "practicing it diligently will strengthen your mental energy. You'll likely find it useful in the future."

  The Ancient One gestured toward the books on the table. The first was titled Introduction to Spiritual Power Training. Beside it were Explanation of the Use of Basic Spells and several other tomes. One stack caught Ethan's attention, a thick set of Oxford dictionaries, along with French and other language textbooks.

  "Don't worry," she added. "As you practice and improve your spiritual power, your memory will also strengthen. You'll find it easier to memorize these books as time goes on."

  Ethan scratched the back of his head, puzzled. "But… why give me these?" He glanced at the textbooks.

  The Ancient One's expression grew serious. "I have a feeling you'll come back."

  "Maybe," she said quietly, "you'll be able to help me solve a great problem when that time comes."

  Chapter 3

  The slight rocking of the boat made Ethan a little uncomfortable. He had finally gotten used to the constant motion of being at sea, but after a few days of steady ground during his stay in the Marvel universe, his body was back to square one.

  "Doesn't matter, I'll get used to it again in a few days," he muttered, shaking his head.

  It was clear to him now that his days at sea would be long. This trip had taught Ethan that his so-called golden finger—the glowing orb—came with many limitations.

  "First, let's get everything organized," he said to himself.

  Looking at his empty left hand and the large bag slung over his right shoulder, Ethan began sorting through his thoughts and belongings. He had learned something important during this journey.

  "The items I physically picked up and carried back with me, like this bag in my right hand, came along for the ride. But the things I merely touched with my left hand didn't."

  This discovery made one thing clear: the teleportation magic circle could only transport objects that he was actively holding or carrying. Anything he simply brushed against or touched lightly wouldn't be brought back.

  "Too bad," Ethan sighed. "If I could bring back everything I touched, this would've been a game-changer for the future."

  Unfortunately, his strength was limited. At seventeen, with a thin frame and years of poor nutrition, Ethan didn't have much physical power to rely on. While he could carry a moderate load, anything overly heavy, like a large boat was out of the question. Even with bursts of adrenaline, the heaviest he could probably lift was something around a hundred kilograms, and that wasn't practical for his purposes.

  "I was really hoping to get myself a better boat," he muttered, glancing at his current one.

  The boat Ethan's father had prepared for him was nothing more than a simple wooden vessel. It had a single mast and a weathered sail, with a length of less than ten meters. Storage consisted of a few wooden barrels for food and water, all of which were exposed to the elements. There wasn't even a shed to provide cover, just lids for the barrels.

  When Ethan first set out, he had been convinced that this flimsy craft wouldn't survive the open sea. A stronger gust of wind or larger waves would surely capsize it or so he thought.

  But as the days passed, Ethan realized something strange. The sea in this area was eerily calm. He had sailed for days without encountering deep blue waters, let alone any storms. The weather and climate barely fluctuated, to the point that it was disorienting.

  "There's still so much I don't understand about this world," he mused.

  With the supplies he had brought back from the Marvel universe safely stowed, Ethan raised the anchor, adjusted the sail, and set off in a random direction.

  Initially, he had hoped the orb would guide him to his next destination. Without a clear goal, finding another source of space-time energy seemed like the most reliable way to replenish his supplies. But when he activated the orb, there was no familiar arrow. Instead, a line of text appeared: Searching…

  "So, space-time energy isn't something I can just find whenever I want," he muttered, putting the orb away.

  Now left to his own devices, Ethan began considering his options.

  "Hopefully, I'll come across land soon… This whole world can't really just be water, can it? Not even a single island?"

  At first, Ethan had dismissed the idea as the ignorant belief of superstitious villagers. But his time at sea, while not long enough to definitively prove anything, had shown him just how different this world was. This wasn't Earth, and he couldn't rely on what he thought he knew about how things worked.

  Thankfully, the water-gathering spell he had learned from the Ancient One solved one of his biggest problems: drinking water.

  "Food is another story," Ethan thought grimly. "I don't know when I'll get another chance to resupply, so I need to ration what I have. I'll make sure to stay hydrated, though."

  Determined not to die at sea, and unwilling to pin his hopes on space-time energy that might not even exist nearby, Ethan began planning his next steps.

  He calculated how much food he could eat each day to maintain his strength while conserving his supplies. At the same time, he began sorting through the books the Ancient One had given him, deciding to study them in the order she had recommended.

  "Slow and steady," Ethan reminded himself. "The Ancient One said my aptitude is average, so I probably won't get far without a lot of time on the basics. I'll stick to the introduction for now and leave the rest for later."

  Thus began Ethan's new routine.

  Every morning, he ate a small meal to maintain his energy, then set the boat to sail in a fixed direction. With no way to determine north, south, east, or west, he simply picked a course and stuck to it. Once the sails and rudder were adjusted, he would spend the rest of the day studying and practicing.

  Daily use of the water-gathering spell quickly improved his proficiency. What had once yielded only a spoonful of clean water now produced half a bucket in a single attempt.

  "When I started, I could barely gather a single drop," Ethan marveled. "It's not like my mental power could've grown this quickly, so the improvement must come from the sheer abundance of water elements in this environment."

  Thanks to his progress, Ethan not only had enough water to drink but could even afford to take the occasional shower. While it didn't make his monotonous days at sea exciting, it at least made them more bearable.

  As for the Introduction to Spiritual Power, Ethan found it far more challenging. The book began with an overview of spiritual power training and meditation techniques, which were so abstract and esoteric that Ethan couldn't make sense of them. For three days, he struggled to understand even the first paragraph, to the point that he began doubting his intelligence.

  It wasn't until the third day, when he accidentally channeled his mental energy while reading, that something clicked. The book's instructions suddenly made sense, as if he had unlocked a hidden door to understanding.

  "So that's the trick…" Ethan muttered, feeling a mix of relief and exasperation.

  He couldn't help but wonder, "Was this some kind of test she left for me?"

  After discovering the proper way to "unlock" the introductory text, Ethan added a new task to his daily routine. Each day, after practicing the water-gathering spell, he would meditate to restore his mental energy. Then, he would use his replenished energy to study the strange book, slowly building up his spiritual strength.

  As his mental power improved, so did his understanding of the book's hidden knowledge.

  The text explained that no matter what kind of mage one aspired to be, spiritual power was at the core of spellcasting. The strength of a mage's spiritual power directly influenced their magic, its potency, their control over it, and even their ability to perform advanced spells.

  A mage with sufficiently powerful mental energy could theoretically harm their enemies with pure spiritual power, even without using magic. However, this method was rarely employed. The book elaborated briefly on why.

  Since spiritual power was closely tied to one's "origin," such as the soul, using it as a weapon left the mage dangerously exposed. Directly attacking an enemy with spiritual power was akin to laying one's soul bare, leaving it vulnerable to exploitation. This risk was especially high against certain enemies who could inflict devastating harm by targeting the mage's exposed origin.

  To mitigate this, mages preferred to control external energies, commonly referred to as magic power, to cast offensive spells.

  The term "magic," Ethan realized, was a catch-all. It wasn't a single type of energy but rather an umbrella term for many kinds. The book explained that water elements, fire elements, arcane energy, and even more extreme forces like holy light or dark energy were all considered forms of magic.

  This broad definition meant that magic power could take many forms, depending on the mage's aptitude.

  Take the Ancient One as an example. The book hinted at her mastery of various forms of energy. Ethan, recalling the Marvel movies from his past life, knew she even drew upon negative energy from dark dimensions to sustain herself and enhance her power. It was a textbook example of the pragmatic mage mindset: energy was energy, and it could all be used as magic if the mage was skilled enough.

  But all of this hinged on one crucial factor, mental power. Without sufficient spiritual strength, even the most abundant source of energy was useless.

  To Ethan, the book's theory boiled down to this: magic was a tool, and spiritual power was the hand wielding it. Striking an enemy with your bare hands could hurt you as much as it hurt them. Using a tool, on the other hand, minimized the risk.

  As for the finer details, how magic power was created, extracted, and stored, those were absent from the book. Ethan suspected he wasn't yet qualified to learn that level of knowledge.

  There wasn't much point dwelling on the gaps in his understanding. The book had made it clear that his current level of mental power barely exceeded that of an ordinary person. He lacked the qualifications to even attempt manipulating magic power.

  If he wanted to grow stronger, there was only one path forward: focus on strengthening his spiritual power. The rest would have to wait until he reached a higher level.

  "Wait… is that a storm?"

  Ethan froze as he noticed the distant horizon. For the first time since setting sail, the endless blue sea had transformed. Towering black clouds loomed in the distance, and the torrential rain cascading from them looked like a solid wall.

  The sheer scale and intensity of the storm showcased the terrifying power of nature, and Ethan—an inexperienced sailor in a small, fragile boat was suddenly all too aware of how vulnerable he was.

  "I need to turn around. Fast."

  Ethan's instincts screamed at him to flee. Getting anywhere near the storm was suicide. Even if his boat didn't enter the storm's direct path, the waves generated by it could easily capsize his vessel.

  As he scrambled to adjust his course, he suddenly froze.

  He thought he heard a voice. A faint, desperate cry for help.

  "Am I imagining things?"

  Ethan quickly grabbed the binoculars that the Ancient One had given him. Scanning the storm's outskirts, he spotted something unusual.

  "Wreckage… pieces of a broken ship?"

  Among the debris, Ethan saw what looked like two people clinging to a plank of wood, waving frantically.

  "Someone's out there!"

  Without hesitation, Ethan adjusted his course. He steered his boat toward the wreckage, determined to save the stranded survivors.

  Chapter 4

  After quickly rescuing the two people who had fallen into the water, Ethan asked if there were any other survivors. Upon receiving a negative answer, he wasted no time in turning the ship's bow and steering away from the area as quickly as possible.

  His boat was far too small to withstand the chaos of the storm, and even though they were some distance away from its core, the aftermath alone made him feel as if the fragile vessel could capsize at any moment.

  It wasn't until Ethan had sailed far enough for the waves to calm that he finally let out a sigh of relief. Glancing back, he saw that the storm wasn't advancing in their direction, giving him the chance to check on the two survivors he had saved.

  One of them, a slightly frail man in his forties, had a handsome face marked by the passage of time. The other, a man in his early thirties and in the prime of his life, was muscular and well-built. His soaked clothes clung to his body, emphasizing the corded muscles beneath.

  "Thank you so much for saving our lives."

  The older man, after taking a few sips of water, immediately expressed his gratitude before handing the wooden spoon back to his companion.

  It was evident that both were seasoned sailors. Even after surviving such a harrowing ordeal, they drank with care, ensuring not a single drop was wasted. Ethan couldn't help but notice their restraint, it seemed they hadn't had fresh water in a long time.

  "You're welcome."

  After the younger man finished drinking, Ethan took the wooden spoon back and put it away. He then asked what had happened to them.

  The older man introduced himself as Wood, while the younger man was named Rodney. Both were veteran sailors who had spent years navigating this stretch of ocean. From their conversation, Ethan gleaned that they were experienced and knowledgeable about life at sea.

  Wood explained that he owned a decent-sized sailboat and had a capable crew working under him. For years, they had been venturing through the region, but just days ago, they had made a bold decision: to cross the Sea of Storms in search of new waters.

  It was during their explanation that Ethan began to grasp the bizarre nature of this world.

  According to Wood, the ocean they were currently on was called the Sea of Calm. Despite its name, this sea wasn't entirely tranquil, it was vast and unpredictable, but compared to other regions, it was considered relatively safe.

  "How big is the Sea of Calm?" Ethan asked.

  Wood shook his head. "I couldn't say. It's enormous, that much is certain. But I do know it's not endless."

  Surrounding the Sea of Calm was the Sea of Storms, a region perpetually ravaged by violent tempests, torrential rain, and constant lightning. This natural barrier encircled the Sea of Calm like an impenetrable wall, making it nearly impossible to leave.

  The closer one sailed to the edge of the Sea of Calm, the more dangerous it became. Conversely, the closer one stayed to the center, the safer it was. In these central waters, the weather was mostly stable, and marine life was plentiful. Sailors could survive for years as long as they had a reliable source of drinking water.

  "Even if we can't find an island, the sea provides enough food to last until we return to State Island to restock supplies," Wood said.

  Ethan furrowed his brow. "So… there aren't any islands nearby?"

  Wood sighed. "Not a single reef, let alone an island."

  Ethan found this hard to believe, but Wood quickly explained.

  The most astonishing feature of the Sea of Calm was the islands themselves. Unlike anything Ethan had ever heard of, these islands would appear and disappear without warning.

  "They can emerge suddenly," Wood said, his tone serious. "In just a short span of time, they'll be covered with vegetation and fruit-bearing trees. But just as quickly, the plants will wither, and the entire island will sink back into the ocean, leaving no trace behind."

  Ethan listened, incredulous, as Wood described these phantom islands. Some islands lasted only a few days, while others remained for weeks or months before vanishing. The only permanent landmass in the Sea of Calm was State Island, a large and stable island that served as the center of life for the sea's inhabitants.

  "State Island doesn't sink?" Ethan asked.

  Wood nodded. "It's the only one that doesn't. Its size and stability have made it the hub for everyone who lives in this sea. All trade and supplies flow through it."

  But State Island, as Wood explained, wasn't a paradise. Its resources were limited, and it couldn't accommodate the sheer number of people trying to settle there. Most people had to continue venturing out to sea, relying on the transient islands to gather resources and sustain themselves.

  "So, all the people who left their islands to explore the sea were heading for State Island?" Ethan asked.

  Wood shook his head. "Not exactly. State Island can't take in everyone. Most people who leave their islands end up wandering the Sea of Calm, searching for those transient islands to collect resources they can trade for necessities."

  Wood glanced at Ethan. "You must have just left your home, haven't you?"

  "Yes," Ethan admitted, keeping his explanation vague. He mentioned that his parents had passed away and that he had no reason to stay on his island, so he decided to leave.

  Rodney, who had been silent until now, shot Ethan a glance that could only be described as skeptical, as if silently saying, "This guy must be out of his mind." He quickly schooled his expression, but Ethan's heightened senses caught the slip.

  Wood chuckled. "It takes courage to set out on your own, but the Sea of Calm isn't as peaceful as it seems. Wandering these waters for years, searching for fleeting islands… it's not the kind of life most people dream of."

  He didn't try to persuade Ethan to turn back or give up, likely because he'd seen plenty of young dreamers before.

  "So, what kind of resources can you find on these islands?" Ethan asked.

  Wood leaned back slightly. "Anything and everything—food, minerals, timber… anything you can carry. You take what you find back to State Island and trade it for supplies. You can even commission a boat or hire a crew if you've got enough to trade."

  Ethan nodded slowly. It made sense. In a world dominated by endless seas, every resource was precious.

  State Island functioned much like a central hub in an online game, where adventurers could trade the resources they gathered for necessities, repair their gear, and prepare for their next journeys. This system kept the community alive in a world dominated by endless seas.

  "There must be a powerful authority controlling this island," Ethan thought. Without an absolute ruler enforcing the rules, it would be impossible to maintain order among so many people.

  Wood continued sharing his knowledge with Ethan, teaching him the basics of survival in the Sea of Calm and explaining the strange customs and realities of this world.

  One of the first things Ethan learned was that this world didn't have the concepts of north, south, east, or west. Directions were determined entirely by the position of the sun sailing in the direction of the rising sun or the setting sun was how sailors navigated.

  "We're heading toward the rising sun now," Wood explained. "That'll take us to State Island. If you really want to make a living at sea, I recommend joining the Adventurers' Guild when we get there."

  "The Adventurers' Guild?" Ethan asked, intrigued.

  Wood explained that the Adventurers' Guild was an organization designed to support adventurers who made their living at sea. It offered a variety of services, such as providing basic necessities like food and clothing, storing excess materials, helping members sell goods, and even offering a secure account system for storing wealth.

  The guild also provided exclusive benefits to its members, like access to rare resources, assistance with ship repairs, and even help with commissioning new ships.

  "And when you've got a sturdy enough crew and a well-built ship," Wood said, "you can try crossing the Sea of Storms along its safest route. That's the first step toward reaching the legendary Endless Land."

  Wood explained that the safest route through the Sea of Storms started from State Island and followed the direction of the setting sun. Compared to other parts of the stormy seas, this route had fewer storms, less lightning, and more manageable waves.

  "Of course, 'safest' is relative," Wood added with a wry smile. "Even that route is still dangerous. We thought we were ready, but… well, you saw how that turned out."

  Wood and Rodney had attempted the crossing when they believed they were strong enough, but they hadn't made it far. A violent storm had forced them to turn back, and they barely escaped with their lives.

  As Wood finished his explanation, his exhaustion finally caught up with him. After spending so long adrift at sea, surviving on sheer determination, the adrenaline that had kept him going finally wore off. He slumped back and fell into a deep, unshakable sleep.

  Rodney, too, was out cold. Curled up awkwardly in the cramped boat, he didn't stir even when discomfort should have woken him.

  Ethan glanced around the crowded little boat. Between the supplies and the two sleeping men, there was hardly any room to move. After some consideration, he decided to sit by the rudder, leaning against a pile of debris to rest for the night.

  Though he was tired, Ethan didn't dare let down his guard completely. The lesson of "never trust too easily" had been drilled into him by life's hardships. Using the excuse of wanting to make progress during the night, he stayed awake as much as possible, only taking short naps when absolutely necessary.

  The following days were uneventful. The trio continued their journey toward State Island without any major incidents. Ethan remained cautious, but Wood and Rodney showed no signs of hostility.

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  Wood continued to share his knowledge of the Sea of Calm, while Rodney maintained his quiet demeanor, rarely speaking unless absolutely necessary. The three of them, cramped together on the small boat, steadily made their way to the largest, unsinkable island in the Sea of Calm: State Island.

  When they finally reached the bustling port of State Island, Ethan felt an immense sense of relief. Stepping onto solid ground again after days at sea was a small but significant victory.

  As they prepared to part ways, Wood turned to Ethan with a sincere expression. "It's hard to repay the kindness of saving our lives, but if you ever need help, leave a message for me at the guild. Just ask for Captain Wood of the Swordfish."

  Ethan noticed that most people in this world didn't seem to have family names. To avoid confusion with others who might share the same given name, extra identifiers like a ship's name were used instead.

  "And take this." Wood reached into his belongings and pulled out a small, red stone, pressing it into Ethan's hand. "It's a fire-attribute magic stone. Think of it as a small token of thanks for helping us out."

  Chapter 5

  The Adventurers' Guild, this was the official name of the organization Wood had mentioned.

  The guild's headquarters was conveniently located right at the port's exit, at the end of the main street. Its large, prominent building was impossible to miss. However, there was one peculiar detail, there were multiple entrances, each without any signage or indication of their purpose. For a newcomer unfamiliar with the layout, choosing the correct door might be a frustrating task.

  Fortunately, thanks to Wood's guidance, Ethan knew to enter through the door on the far left. This entrance was designated for rookies and handled matters like applying for membership and arranging accommodations for newcomers.

  Wood and Rodney, on the other hand, headed toward the hall frequented by veteran adventurers. They needed to report the loss of their ship and crew, withdraw their stored funds, and begin the process of purchasing a new vessel.

  As he watched the two disappear into the crowd, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that Rodney had been casting him occasional glances. There was something about the man's gaze—furtive, and definitely not friendly.

  "Is it because of the magic stone?" Ethan wondered.

  Magic stones were considered one of the most valuable and mysterious resources in this oceanic world. Rare and difficult to obtain, they served as both a magical resource and a form of currency. Even if someone didn't need one personally, trading a magic stone could fetch enough supplies to last for weeks.

  "The fire-attribute magic stone… I wonder what it can actually do?"

  Magic stones had unique properties based on their attributes. For adventurers, one of the most sought-after types was the water purification magic stone. Just placing one in a barrel of seawater or contaminated water would purify it into drinkable, crystal-clear water.

  "It's a shame it's not water-attribute," Ethan mused, glancing at the stone in his hand. "I'll have to figure out how this fire-attribute one works later."

  Carefully tucking the stone into his backpack, he tightened the straps. His bag contained all of his most important belongings, including the stack of books gifted to him by the Ancient One. He didn't dare leave anything valuable on his small, unsecured boat, fearing it could be stolen while he was away.

  Entering the newcomer reception hall of the Adventurers' Guild, Ethan immediately noticed how quiet it was compared to the bustling port and main guild hall. A quick glance around confirmed that he was the only person there.

  At the counter near the entrance, a young man stood waiting. Spotting Ethan, he waved enthusiastically.

  "Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild! Are you here to apply for membership?"

  "Ah, yes!" Ethan replied, nodding as he approached the counter.

  "Do I need to pay a fee to join?" Ethan asked, realizing belatedly that he hadn't considered the possibility. In his time here, he hadn't seen anything resembling coins or currency. Bartering had been the norm on his home island, and he wasn't sure how things worked here.

  The clerk smiled. "No, there's no membership fee. However, in the future, the guild will take a small commission when you store materials, order ship repairs, or conduct trade through us."

  Ethan nodded in understanding. "So, the services have fees, not the membership itself. That's fair."

  The young clerk seemed delighted by Ethan's interest, perhaps because newcomers were a rare sight. "Honestly, even if there's no fee to join, it's been a while since we've had anyone new sign up. You're actually the first person to apply for membership in the last six months!"

  "Really?" Ethan was surprised. While the hall seemed quiet, he hadn't expected such a long drought of new members.

  The clerk, noticing Ethan's reaction, quickly added, "Oh, don't get the wrong idea! There are a lot of benefits to joining the guild. We offer better ships, access to experienced sailors, and plenty of other resources. For example, there are ships and crews registered with the guild that may not be in the best condition, but they're still very experienced. They're available for members to hire.

  "Additionally, storing or consigning supplies with the guild saves adventurers a lot of time. And if you've had a tough trip, the guild provides returning adventurers with three days of free food and accommodation so they can rest and prepare for their next journey. All in all, the guild's services are designed to let adventurers focus on exploring and gathering resources without worrying about logistics."

  Ethan couldn't help but think that the guild sounded like a godsend for people trying to make a living at sea.

  "Then why hasn't anyone joined in half a year?" he asked.

  The clerk sighed, his cheerful demeanor dimming slightly. "Fewer and fewer newcomers manage to make it to State Island from their home islands. And those who do are often old-timers who are too set in their ways. They're unwilling to part with even a fraction of their resources, convinced that the guild is trying to take advantage of them."

  The clerk shrugged, a look of disdain crossing his face. "Honestly, those people just want to scrape by. They collect resources, trade for what they need, and only head back out to sea when their supplies are nearly gone. It's not a real life, it's just survival."

  He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "Some of them don't even bother stocking up properly before heading out. They'll grab a few barrels of clean water and nothing else. Nine times out of ten, those people never make it back."

  Ethan frowned. The description reminded him of the people who had left his home island, chasing the dream of a better life only to find themselves stuck in an even worse situation. Once they arrived on State Island and realized things weren't as they'd hoped, many seemed to lose all motivation. To them, surviving one more day was just a bonus.

  "How do they trade for food and supplies?" Ethan asked.

  "There's a market just down the road," the clerk explained. "Go out this door, turn right, and follow the gravel path. It's the largest market on the island. Even guild members do most of their trading there, only using the guild to store or sell items that don't move quickly."

  "Got it. Thanks for the info."

  "No problem! Now, let's get your membership set up. I'll need you to fill out some basic information."

  Ethan nodded. Joining the guild seemed like the best choice, especially since it could provide him with valuable information about this world. He was determined to make the most of it.

  "Name?"

  "Ethan."

  "Age?"

  "Seventeen."

  "Gender?"

  "…Male…"

  "Height?"

  "Uh… I haven't measured."

  The clerk, clearly very experienced with the process, quickly jotted down Ethan's responses and grabbed a measuring tool to get the exact height, filling in the information without missing a beat.

  "Ship name?"

  "Uh… this…" Ethan hesitated. He hadn't thought about naming his boat, and the question caught him off guard. After a long pause, he rubbed his forehead and said casually, "Goddess of Dawn."

  "Oh~ what a nice name," the clerk said with a grin, clearly pleased by Ethan's answer.

  Once the basic information was filled out, the clerk reached for a white magic stone from the counter. Without making any visible gestures, the stone released a soft blue light that swept over Ethan's face, scanning him.

  The clerk then moved the magic stone over the paper containing Ethan's information, and with a faint shimmer, the paper slowly faded away, as if absorbed by the stone.

  Next, the clerk slapped the magic stone against the desk with a sharp pop. When he removed his hand, the once-rounded stone had transformed into a long, white strip about the width of a finger.

  The process had happened so fast that Ethan could only gape silently. Magic stones can do that?

  Before he could fully process what had just occurred, the clerk motioned for him to extend his hand. With another quick snap, the white strip was secured snugly around Ethan's wrist. It had turned into a flexible wristband that fit him perfectly.

  "This will serve as your guild membership certificate," the clerk explained, showing Ethan how to use it.

  The wristband could be easily removed and wasn't restricted to the wrist, it was flexible enough to be worn around the neck, arm, or even the leg if needed. The clerk assured him that losing it wasn't a concern either. All of Ethan's information was stored in the guild's records, and he could request a replacement at any time by visiting the guild's main hall.

  "By the way, if you don't like the white color, you can have it changed," the clerk added. "But you'll need to pay for the customization."

  "What's the cost for a color change?" Ethan asked, curious.

  "A magic stone of the corresponding color," the clerk replied cheerfully.

  "…"

  Ethan grimaced. He couldn't imagine wasting a valuable magic stone, especially his fire-attribute one, just to change the color of a wristband. Magic stones were rare and useful, and while his wasn't as prized as a water purification stone, it surely had some significant value.

  "Yeah, I think I'll pass for now," Ethan said with a dry chuckle.

  "It's fine," the clerk said with a wave of his hand, clearly unfazed. "Actually, magic stones aren't as rare as you might think."

  Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

  "Really. In fact, more than 80% of the floating and sinking islands have at least one magic stone. Most people just don't know how to find them," the clerk explained, clearly enjoying the conversation.

  "Wait, are you serious?" Ethan asked, feeling like he'd stumbled onto a valuable secret.

  "It's true," the clerk said with a nod. "It's not exactly a hidden fact, but the guild doesn't advertise it in the basic information we provide about the Sea of Calm. It's part of a kind of… screening process."

  "Screening process?"

  "Yeah. It's a way to identify potential adventurers with the skills or determination to succeed," the clerk said with a knowing smile.

  Ethan couldn't help but feel like he'd uncovered something important. "So what happens after you find these 'potential adventurers'?"

  The clerk shrugged. "What else? We encourage them to grow stronger and to set their sights on bigger goals. Eventually, the hope is that they'll be able to cross the Sea of Storms and search for the Endless Land."

  The mention of the Endless Land made Ethan pause. It was a name he'd already heard multiple times—a vast, boundless land said to lie beyond the ocean. Supposedly, it was a paradise where millions could live in peace and prosperity.

  But to Ethan, it sounded too good to be true. "Are you sure it's not just a legend designed to lure people out to sea?"

  Chapter 6

  Whether the Endless Land was a fabricated legend or truly existed, Ethan still didn't have a clear answer.

  After completing his guild membership, Ethan was handed a small, unassuming pointer and directed to a resting area specifically prepared for adventurers.

  Though the room was modest, just a private bedroom and a small bathroom, it was a haven compared to life at sea. For adventurers who spent weeks floating in cramped, unstable boats, these basic comforts were a luxury.

  A clean bed, fresh water to drink, and food to eat.

  "For the guild to provide this for free, they must be far more powerful than I thought," Ethan murmured to himself.

  His mind wandered back to the clerk who had handled his registration. The faint mental energy Ethan had sensed when the clerk used the magic stone made one thing clear: the seemingly friendly man was far from ordinary.

  "What should I do next?" Ethan muttered, pulling out the fire-attribute magic stone Wood had given him. It was the only valuable resource he had left. The books and clothing gifted by the Ancient One had sentimental value, but they wouldn't fetch much if traded.

  "This magic stone is all I have," Ethan thought. Without selling it, his only options were to rely on his water-generation spell for fresh water and catch fish for food while hoping to stumble upon one of the fabled floating islands or better yet, space-time energy.

  "Relying on hope... I've already done that once, and it nearly got me killed."

  From the materials the guild had provided, Ethan had gained a better understanding of how survival worked in this world. Adventurers collected resources to trade for better tools, sturdier ships, and more provisions. Those improvements, in turn, allowed them to collect more resources, repeating the cycle and gradually increasing their chances of survival.

  It was a system of progression, and the guild maintained the balance by ensuring these rules were upheld.

  "Exchanging this magic stone for food is the minimum I'll need to do," Ethan reasoned. "I won't need to prepare water thanks to my spell... but it's better not to draw attention. I should still carry water with me."

  With a plan in mind, Ethan began working out the details.

  "If possible, I should replace my boat. The one I have now is too small. Its storage capacity is terrible, and its stability is worse. A slightly larger wave could tip it over, and even if I survive, I'd lose all my supplies."

  The problem was that he had no idea how much ships cost in this world. If a new ship was out of his reach, he'd have to make do and limit how far he ventured out to sea.

  Ethan glanced at the pointer he had been given. While it looked unimpressive, the guild-issued pointer had a vital function, it could locate the nearest floating islands within a certain range, making it easier for adventurers to find their targets. Additionally, the pointer had a dial that could guide users back to State Island, ensuring they could always find their way home no matter how far they strayed.

  Putting the pointer away, Ethan resumed his daily mental exercises. Although the progress was barely noticeable, he refused to give up. It was the only path he knew to grow stronger, and he needed every edge he could get in this unpredictable world.

  "This place might look peaceful, but it's far from safe," Ethan muttered.

  He understood the harsh truth: danger lurked everywhere, and being kind didn't mean others would return the favor.

  "Let's hope I'm just being paranoid…"

  The next morning, feeling rested and ready, Ethan made his way to the guild hall to trade the fire-attribute magic stone. He avoided the bustling market, reasoning that it was safer to conduct his business through the guild. While the guild would take a small cut, it was worth the peace of mind knowing he wouldn't be scammed or worse, targeted.

  To his surprise, the process went better than expected. Not only did the guild handle the transaction fairly, but the staff also informed him that the magic stone was a high-quality combat-grade stone. It was valuable enough to exchange for ample supplies and a considerable amount of wealth.

  "With this, you could live comfortably on the island for a while," the guild clerk said.

  Ethan hesitated before asking, "Could I exchange it for a boat?"

  Instead of ridicule, his question earned him a look of approval. The clerk's tone became more respectful, as though Ethan's willingness to reinvest in his survival made him stand out. It seemed the guild truly valued adventurers who aimed to grow stronger, rather than those who simply drifted through life.

  "What size boat are you looking for?"

  Ethan considered his options. He wasn't planning to recruit a crew, he couldn't risk exposing the secret of the space-time energy or the pointer's true purpose. That meant he'd need a boat small enough to manage alone.

  "Something compact, but sturdy enough to handle rough waters," Ethan said.

  "A ten-meter, double-deck sloop should fit your needs," the clerk replied, pulling out a notebook to check the inventory. "Would you be open to an older boat? If so, we could include a full load of food and fresh water, plus some additional supplies."

  Ethan nodded quickly. "That works. As long as the boat is in good condition, I don't mind if it's used. Honestly, it'll probably just be a temporary solution anyway."

  The clerk smiled. "Don't worry. Any boat listed by the guild has been inspected and certified as seaworthy. Older boats with significant issues are dismantled and repurposed for materials."

  Hearing this, an idea struck Ethan. "I have a boat of my own. Would you be willing to take it as part of the trade?"

  "Of course! Shall we include it in the transaction?"

  Ethan agreed without hesitation. The deal had turned out far better than he'd hoped. Not only was he getting a more reliable boat, but he also managed to offload his old one in the process. The value of the magic stone exceeded his expectations.

  Still, something about the term "combat magic stone" nagged at him. It hinted at a world far more dangerous than he had initially imagined.

  "The world really isn't as peaceful as it seems…" Ethan thought grimly.

  After completing the inspection and transaction, Ethan was handed the keys to his new boat. It was a ten-meter-long sloop with two levels, a deck and a lower cabin. While its length was similar to his previous boat, its height and draft made it far more stable in the water.

  The design was practical: a single mast and sail, a raised bow and stern, and two small cabins accessible via doors. It was sturdy and well-suited for solo adventuring.

  In addition to his new boat and a full load of food and water, Ethan used the remainder of his funds to purchase some basic necessities. One of his more practical acquisitions was a low-quality fire-attribute magic stone stove. With it, he wouldn't have to risk setting his boat on fire just to cook food during his journey.

  Once the transaction was complete and the guild staff had finished loading the supplies onto his newly painted boat, the Goddess of Dawn, Ethan wasted no time. He didn't return to the guild's accommodations, nor did he stay on the boat overnight. Instead, he immediately set sail, leaving State Island behind.

  While he had been at the port, he'd felt the unmistakable weight of malicious gazes following him more than once. Most came from strangers, but one came from someone familiar.

  "Rodney…" Ethan muttered to himself as the boat cut through the water. "I didn't see Wood. Did they part ways? Or is Wood simply better at hiding his intentions?"

  Ethan hated to assume the worst of people, but he couldn't afford to be careless. His current lack of strength left no room for error, and the safest course of action was to leave State Island immediately, disappearing before anyone could make a move. On the vast ocean, the likelihood of being found was far lower than it would be on land.

  Everything went according to plan. Those watching him hadn't anticipated he'd set out to sea so quickly. By the time some of them realized what was happening and attempted to organize a pursuit, Ethan was already far away.

  The few who managed to react in time lacked seaworthy boats to chase him. Most of them were likely part of the group despised by the guild, people scraping by with poorly maintained vessels. While Ethan's new boat wasn't top-of-the-line, it was far sturdier than their rotting ships.

  When the shadow of State Island disappeared from view and the ocean stretched empty in all directions, Ethan finally relaxed and let out a long breath.

  "For now… I'm safe," he murmured.

  Now, his next priority was to pick a direction and begin searching for floating or sinking islands. However, before making his decision, he instinctively summoned his space-time pointer to check if it had located a new target.

  The result made his heart leap. The Orb, which had been stuck on Searching… for days, now displayed a clear arrow. Even better, the arrow was pointing nearby, and there was only one arrow displayed this time.

  "When I first set out, there were three arrows. If there's only one now, that must mean the space-time energy is close," Ethan whispered, a grin spreading across his face.

  His excitement grew, but his luck didn't stop there. Taking out the pointer for floating and sinking islands, he saw it start to spin before locking onto a fixed direction.

  "So… constant spinning means no target, and a fixed point means it's found something. My luck just keeps getting better," Ethan said with a wry smile.

  As he compared the two pointers, he noticed something surprising, their directions were almost identical.

  "Well, that makes things easy. I'll head that way and see which one I find first."

  Although he spoke casually, Ethan's true priority was clear. Space-time energy was far more important to him. Being able to travel between planes was a source of immense opportunity and perhaps even survival.

  Over the next several days, Ethan adjusted his course repeatedly, always following the space-time pointer.

  "The possibilities are endless," he mused to himself. "Even if I can't stay in a new world for long, there are boundless ways to improve my life in this one. Immortality, becoming a higher-level being… it might not even be impossible."

  He knew that finding the Endless Land was a distant, uncertain goal, but the allure of immortality was something much closer, much more tangible.

  But those thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he finally found the space-time energy.

  After activating the teleportation circle, Ethan barely had time to process his arrival before he was surrounded. A group of women in leather armor appeared out of nowhere, their bows drawn and arrows aimed unerringly at his vital points.

  The grandeur of his dreams vanished instantly, replaced by the stark reality of his predicament.

  Chapter 7

  The tall, long-legged archers, with arrows glinting dangerously in the dim light, made it clear just how precarious Ethan's situation was.

  "Um… hello. I mean no harm," Ethan said, raising his voice slightly to sound more confident.

  He was met with stony silence. None of the archers reacted in the slightest.

  Language barrier.

  The realization hit Ethan like a punch to the gut. Out of all the frustrating scenarios he had imagined when traveling between planes, this was one of the worst. With no other option, he raised his hands slowly, showing that he was unarmed and no threat.

  A towering woman, taller even than the already formidable archers stepped forward and barked something at him in a serious tone.

  Too bad Ethan couldn't understand a single word.

  "This is… oppressive," Ethan muttered under his breath, sweat forming on his brow.

  In that moment, he couldn't help but miss the Ancient One. Despite her often enigmatic demeanor, she had at least been able to use spiritual links for initial communication, even transmitting basic linguistic knowledge so he could grasp new languages quickly. While mastery was out of reach, it had been enough for everyday conversation.

  In fact, among the introductory spells the Ancient One had left him were instructions for creating a spiritual communication link with civilizations that spoke foreign languages. Ethan had studied the spell extensively, but his spiritual energy was still too weak to cast it. It didn't require magic, but the sheer concentration of mental power it demanded was beyond him.

  As Ethan debated his next move, the archers parted, forming a narrow pathway. Through it stepped a woman unlike the others.

  She was plump yet solidly built, her wide frame lending her an imposing presence that didn't seem bulky or awkward. She wore a brown floor-length dress beneath a purple tunic, along with a lilac cape that covered her shoulders and trailed down her back. Around her neck hung a simple necklace that exuded faint, strange waves of energy. The aura it gave off caught Ethan's attention immediately.

  "You are…" Ethan began instinctively, but he stopped himself mid-sentence. He remembered that communication was still impossible, so instead, he awkwardly waved his hand to show he meant no harm.

  To his surprise, a familiar sensation washed over him. The woman initiated a spiritual link. Like the Ancient One, she could communicate mentally.

  "Greetings, young man," she said, her voice calm and composed. "I am Akara, a priestess of the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye. I do not know where you come from, but you've activated a teleportation circle long thought dormant. Regardless, you are welcome here in our camp."

  "Uh… thank you, Priestess Akara," Ethan replied through the link. "My name is Ethan. I'm just passing through. As for the teleportation circle… that may have been a misunderstanding."

  Akara's name immediately rang a bell. The sight of her, the tall archers, and the camp they stood in confirmed Ethan's suspicions. He had landed in the world of Diablo 2.

  More specifically, this was the Rogue Encampment from the first act of the game, a temporary stronghold established by the remaining Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye and their rogue warriors.

  Ethan felt a mix of nostalgia and apprehension. Back in the day, Diablo 2 had been immensely popular. Though Ethan hadn't been deeply invested in it, he'd played through it several times at the urging of his friends. Years later, much of the game's details had faded from his memory, but the opening sequence and its key characters remained vivid.

  Akara, in particular, had stood out. In the game, she was the priestess who restored the player's health and mana. But in this far grimmer and more realistic version of the Diablo world, Ethan couldn't be sure what role she would play. Was she still a kind healer? Or was she a hardened priestess, as dangerous as her world demanded?

  Maintaining a cautious demeanor, Ethan kept the conversation simple. Akara spoke briefly to the tall, battle-hardened woman beside her—Kashya. After exchanging a few words, Kashya motioned for the archers to lower their weapons. One by one, they dispersed, leaving only Akara and Kashya standing with Ethan.

  "I must apologize for the earlier hostility," Akara said. "The forces of darkness grow stronger each day, and we've lost all our teleportation outposts. When we saw the circle activate, we feared it might be a demonic invasion."

  "No need to apologize," Ethan replied, keeping his tone calm. While he hadn't memorized the lore of Diablo 2, he knew enough to understand the precariousness of their situation. In a world teeming with dark creatures that could attack at any time, their caution was entirely justified.

  "So, young man," Akara continued, "where do you come from? Where are you headed? And why did you activate the teleportation circle leading to our camp?"

  Kashya, though reassured that Ethan bore no demonic presence, still regarded him with a cautious, assessing gaze. Her sharp eyes didn't miss a single detail as Akara translated her question.

  Ethan hesitated. "I come from… a distant place. There was an accident when I used magic to teleport. Arriving in your camp was purely a coincidence."

  "Magic teleportation?" Kashya repeated, narrowing her eyes slightly as she turned to Akara. "So, he's a mage?"

  Akara frowned slightly. She couldn't sense any magical energy from Ethan, but his ability to create a spiritual link suggested he had at least some training in mental energy manipulation.

  "Uh… I wouldn't call myself a mage," Ethan said quickly. "I've only learned some of the basics. I haven't even gotten started yet."

  Akara nodded, her expression softening. "That matches what I've observed," she said to Kashya. "He's likely just a novice who's recently begun exploring mystical practices."

  Kashya's sharp gaze lingered on Ethan. To her, he seemed like little more than a greenhorn, barely an apprentice, let alone a full-fledged mage. But that raised another question.

  "If you're just a novice," Kashya asked, "how did you manage to perform high-level magic like teleportation?"

  Ethan had anticipated this question and already prepared his answer. "A scroll," he said quickly. "I used a teleportation scroll. But it seems like something went wrong with it."

  As the discussion continued, Akara, who had been quietly checking something on her end, nodded to Kashya and explained, "All connected teleportation arrays remain sealed and inactive. This young man likely activated the one leading to our camp by pure coincidence while using his teleportation scroll. It must have triggered the circle briefly, which brought him here."

  Kashya frowned, her expression still cautious. "The magic energy behind this is unclear and unstable. That explanation does make sense, though."

  Having received the answer she wanted, Kashya finally eased her guard against Ethan and even arranged for a separate tent where he could rest.

  Surprisingly, no one assigned to watch him, and he was even provided with food and hot water. Ethan guessed this was because the enemies in this world were primarily demonic creatures and beings corrupted by dark forces. His complete lack of dark energy or any ominous aura clearly marked him as a pure human being, and as such, he was automatically viewed as being on their side. With only a few lingering doubts resolved, he wasn't treated as a threat.

  While chatting with Akara, Ethan began to piece together the reality of this world. Though it was based on the Diablo game he remembered, there were significant differences.

  For one, there was no such thing as a convenient storage space. A backpack was just that, a backpack. If he wanted to carry more, he'd have to strengthen his body to bear the weight.

  Potions did exist, but they weren't the miraculous instant-heal elixirs of the game. Red potions could speed up wound recovery but often required internal and external application to be effective. As for blue potions, Ethan hadn't seen any yet and wasn't sure if they even existed in this more grounded version of the world.

  Additionally, there were no predefined "classes." The Paladin, Sorceress, or Barbarian roles from the game were, in this world, specific sects or organizations one had to join. Even joining was no guarantee, rigorous testing and harsh training were required to earn the right to be called a Paladin or Mage.

  "It's impossible," Ethan thought grimly. He knew his time in this world was limited to a single month. There was no way he could join a faction, undergo rigorous tests, and receive formal training within that time frame. Even if he were the so-called "chosen one," there simply wasn't enough time. Just traveling to the different sects from the Rogue Camp would take longer than a month.

  "Time is short," he muttered. "What can I realistically gain in this world?"

  Sure, he could gather some food and water to take back, but the Rogue Camp itself was clearly struggling with limited resources. Most of its residents lived in tents, taking turns to share the limited space. Stockpiling large amounts of food and water without something valuable to trade for it or using this world's currency was unrealistic.

  More importantly, returning home with only basic supplies would be a massive waste of his one-month stay and the precious space-time energy he had spent to get here.

  "I need to focus on gaining something that'll actually help me," Ethan decided. "Even if I can't take down Andariel, I need to at least leave here with some level of self-defense. Enough to handle ordinary enemies."

  He couldn't forget that the world he'd left behind was filled with its own dangers.

  "So, learning combat skills has to be my top priority," he continued. "I might not be able to improve my physical strength significantly in a month, but I can at least master the basics and keep training after I leave."

  "Then there's the matter of tools… Any external force that can boost my strength in the short term will be crucial."

  Ethan's thoughts shifted to the weapons of this world. Though the Diablo universe was set in a medieval-like period, its weapons weren't crude or primitive. In a world infused with mystical energy, even a discarded staff might conceal immense power.

  "Maybe I can commission some custom-made weapons from a blacksmith," Ethan thought.

  At first, his mind wandered to the idea of crafting a gun. It seemed like an ideal solution—simple, effective, and powerful. But reality quickly set in. He didn't know enough about guns to explain their structure, let alone oversee their construction. And even if a blacksmith could forge the barrel, where would he find the materials for bullets or the chemicals for gunpowder?

  "Yeah, not happening," Ethan muttered with a sigh.

  That left cold weapons—swords, daggers, spears, or axes. Ideally, he needed something imbued with magical properties to make up for his lack of physical strength.

  "So, cold weapons with magical enhancements are my best option," he concluded. "Now the question is: how do I get my hands on one?"

  Chapter 8

  Money? Ethan didn't have any. In fact, he didn't even own much of anything. Everything he possessed was on him: a set of clothes, the spiritual training book, the island pointer from State Island, and a small supply of dry food and water.

  "There's no way I could steal anything—I don't have the strength or the skills to pull that off," Ethan muttered to himself.

  After thinking it over, he decided the safest option was to work at the rogue encampment. Selling his labor in exchange for rewards was straightforward, wouldn't raise suspicions, and would help him gather the resources he needed.

  The next morning, after a solid night's rest, Ethan went to find Akara. She was the only person in the camp he could communicate with, so he needed her help to convey his intentions to others.

  Akara's tent was easy to locate. As one of the few remaining senior priestesses of the Sisterhood, her status in the camp was unmatched. The northeastern corner of the camp was reserved for the nuns, and among the cluster of tents, Akara's was the largest and most prominent.

  In addition to her high status, Akara was invaluable for her exceptional healing skills and potion-making abilities, which were critical to maintaining the Rogue warriors' combat effectiveness. Whether through her knowledge or her authority, she was a cornerstone of the camp.

  When Ethan arrived, Akara was outside her tent, staring thoughtfully at a patch of plants. She appeared to be deep in contemplation, and only when Ethan approached, blocking what little light there was, did she finally turn to face him.

  "Young apprentice mage," she said, her tone kind but curious. "Do you need help with something?"

  "Yes, Priestess Akara," Ethan replied, carefully forming his thoughts before projecting them through their mental link. "I need your help. As you can see, I'm penniless. I don't have anything to trade for travel expenses. I was hoping to do some work in exchange for rewards, enough to buy some protective weapons and enough food to last me for a while."

  Akara nodded, understanding his predicament. "So you need me to translate your intentions to others?"

  "Exactly," Ethan confirmed.

  Since he couldn't speak directly with the people in the camp, Akara's help was essential. Thankfully, she didn't seem to mind the request.

  "Wait here," she said. "I'll write a few notes for you and teach you some basic vocabulary. That should be enough to get you by."

  True to her word, Akara wasted no time. She quickly jotted down several notes with simple messages, such as 'Need help?', 'I can work!', and 'I need to earn money to go home!' She then instructed Ethan to copy the words, ensuring he could recognize and differentiate them.

  At the same time, she taught him a handful of basic words and phrases, like "hello," using gestures and repetition. For nearly three hours, they worked outside her tent, and by the end of it, Ethan had surprised even himself with how much he'd learned.

  "I never learned this fast in my past life," Ethan marveled, running through the new vocabulary in his mind.

  Not only had he picked up the words quickly, but his memory was unusually sharp. Despite learning more than a dozen words in one sitting, he felt no confusion or mental fatigue.

  "It seems the Ancient One was right," Ethan muttered to himself. "As my mental strength improves, learning new languages becomes much easier."

  The enhancement of his memory was a direct benefit of his growing mental power. While it didn't make him inherently smarter, it allowed him to process and retain large amounts of information with ease. In the world of mages, this wasn't just a bonus, it was an essential skill for advanced mages.

  Akara, observing Ethan closely, noted his rapid progress. Though he had yet to formally begin his journey as a mage, his mental control and memory retention were already at the level of an apprentice.

  However, this observation gave Akara pause. She began to consider whether the tasks Ethan was currently seeking were truly suitable for someone of his abilities.

  Her decision came quickly. The Rogues who guarded this camp were already stretched to their limits. Between their regular patrols to fend off the growing number of dark creatures, their efforts to maintain the camp's defenses, and their need to collect resources, they had no extra capacity for additional tasks.

  "If you truly wish to help, there is one thing that we could use assistance with right now."

  Ethan's thoughts immediately jumped to the game he had played before. Akara had been the one to give the first quest in Act One. Was this the same? A dangerous combat mission involving killing an unknown number of dark creatures?

  "Is she seriously going to send me out to clear the Den of Evil? I can't possibly handle something like that…" Ethan wondered, already considering how to politely refuse.

  But Akara's next words dispelled his concerns.

  She had clearly assessed him well. Thin, untrained, and without armor or weapons, let alone any practical experience as a mage. Ethan wasn't ready for any large-scale combat. What she wanted, however, was far simpler: herb gathering.

  "The darkness is encroaching ever closer," Akara explained. "The pressure on the Rogues is increasing by the day. They are now forced to stay near the camp for defensive purposes and have no manpower left to gather materials. The herbs we use for potions are running low, and I need fresh supplies to make more."

  Akara herself couldn't leave the camp, and neither could the lower-ranked nuns, who were under strict protection. These tasks, therefore, fell to others.

  "Gathering herbs?" Ethan repeated, the task sounding simple enough. "That doesn't sound too hard. I can do that."

  Akara seemed relieved to see his willingness and provided a detailed explanation of the herbs she needed, including their shapes, characteristics, and even a few illustrations to make identification easier.

  "But be cautious," she warned. "According to the patrolling Rogues, the number of dark creatures near the camp is steadily increasing. Even some of the local wildlife has begun to fall prey to the corruption of dark forces. It's no longer entirely safe, even close to the camp."

  Ethan nodded, already planning to stay close to the camp's perimeter. He wasn't foolish enough to venture too far, knowing he'd have no way to escape if something went wrong.

  "I'll write a note for you," Akara added, "to take to Kashya. She will prepare some basic self-defense weapons for you."

  "Thank you," Ethan said, accepting the note.

  He left Akara's tent and headed toward Kashya, the formidable leader of the Rogues. She stood in the center of the camp, her tall and commanding figure unmistakable.

  Handing the note over, Ethan watched as Kashya quickly recognized Akara's handwriting.

  "So, you're helping Akara gather herbs?" she asked.

  Ethan couldn't understand her words, but he nodded and handed over another note Akara had prepared for him earlier. The note contained a phrase in the local language, which Ethan understood to mean: I need to earn what I need to get home.

  Kashya read it, then glanced at Ethan with a mixture of scrutiny and amusement. She didn't bother repeating the dangers of venturing outside the camp. Akara's request was clear enough. Turning to one of the Rogues nearby, she gave a series of instructions, all the while muttering something under her breath.

  Ethan couldn't understand a word, but Kashya's tone made him feel as if she were… criticizing him. If he had understood, he would've been quite annoyed.

  "Too thin!"

  "Clearly lacking in strength!"

  "With such a weak physique, even light leather armor would slow him down. Just prepare a small weapon and forget the protective gear."

  "He could use some training, any one of my Rogues could take down ten of him!"

  Despite the uneasy feeling of being judged, Ethan kept a polite demeanor. When Kashya handed him a short dagger and a small shield, he thanked her.

  "I wish you a safe return, young man," Kashya said, her tone softening slightly.

  Ethan understood this phrase, as Akara had taught it to him specifically for such moments.

  "Thank you," he replied.

  He sheathed the short dagger at his side, strapped the small shield to his arm, and began his journey outside the camp. His steps were steady, but his heart raced.

  "Am I scared? Of course I'm scared," Ethan admitted to himself.

  Though he had been given a second chance at life, he had never experienced anything like this, facing actual monsters corrupted by dark forces.

  "But I have to face this sooner or later. There's no running away from it," he told himself firmly. Taking a deep breath, Ethan pressed forward.

  As he stepped past the camp's gates, the Rogues called out, "I wish you a safe return!"

  The area surrounding the camp was known as the Blood Moor. Despite the ominous name, it was still populated with plants and animals. However, their unnatural colors hinted at the world's growing corruption under the influence of dark forces.

  Ethan didn't know the full extent of the corruption. Even the herbs Akara needed were tainted by dark energy, forcing her to purify them with magic before they could be used to make potions. This purification process weakened the potions' effects, which was one of the reasons supplies were running low.

  "As long as I don't go too far, I shouldn't run into any monsters, right?"

  This logic seemed sound. The Rogues patrolled daily to keep the area around the camp clear, ensuring that it remained relatively safe.

  Unfortunately, Lady Luck was not on Ethan's side.

  He had barely walked far enough for the camp to disappear from sight when he spotted the first herb on his list. But next to it, two zombies in tattered clothing shuffled aimlessly. Their movements were stiff and sluggish.

  "Zombies… Just two of them. No other monsters around."

  Ethan's grip tightened around the hilt of his short dagger. While zombies were slow and clumsy, they were still dangerous if underestimated. However, this situation was manageable. With only two of them, he could use his agility to stay out of their reach. If he took one out quickly, he'd only have to deal with the second one in a one-on-one fight.

  After carefully surveying the area and confirming there were no other threats, Ethan made his decision.

  Drawing his short dagger, he charged forward.

  He moved as quickly as he could, building momentum with every step. When he reached the first zombie, he leapt into the air, using the weight of his small shield to smash into the zombie's head.

  "Take this!"

  The impact knocked the zombie off balance, sending it toppling to the ground. Without hesitating, Ethan brought his short sword down in a sharp, decisive strike aimed at its head.

  Ethan's mind flashed back to the countless novels and movies he had consumed in his previous life. He had seen too many "experienced" characters get killed because they hesitated or underestimated zombies. Those lessons were burned into his mind.

  Quick. Hard. Precise.

  In one fluid motion, Ethan landed the killing blow.

  And just like that, he claimed the first kill of his life.

  Chapter 9

  After his first successful kill, Ethan didn't allow himself to feel overly triumphant. His mind was clear, there was still danger. The second zombie stood nearby, its stiff movements betraying its intention to make him its next meal.

  Pulling his dagger free with a sharp tug, Ethan slashed again for good measure, severing the first zombie's head entirely. The rotting body made the task easier, its brittle bones offering little resistance. With the first threat neutralized, Ethan turned his attention to the remaining zombie.

  "No head-on fighting," he muttered to himself.

  Zombies might be slow and clumsy, but their strength was nothing to scoff at. Ethan's body, though healthier than in his previous life, was nowhere near strong enough to match a zombie's raw power in direct combat.

  "Speed and agility, that's my edge. I need to attack from behind or the side. Anything but a frontal assault."

  With his strategy settled, Ethan adjusted his grip on the dagger, his muscles tensing in anticipation. He charged forward, but just before reaching the zombie, he pivoted sharply, darting to its side. As he moved, he feigned a forward strike, baiting the zombie into reacting.

  Despite its sluggish appearance, the zombie's reflexes weren't slow. Its clawed hands swung to the side with surprising speed, the force of the blow strong enough to create a faint whooshing sound as it cut through the air. If it had landed, Ethan had no doubt he would've been incapacitated immediately.

  But Ethan was ready. His initial charge was a feint, designed to gauge the zombie's reaction. The moment it swung its arm, Ethan stopped his forward momentum, sidestepped, and darted to a spot just outside its reach. Now positioned at its side, he raised the small shield in his left hand and struck hard at the zombie's neck.

  The shield slammed into its target with a dull crunch.

  Ethan had noticed earlier that the neck was a weak point, and he was right. While the strike didn't fully decapitate the zombie, it severely damaged its neck, leaving it twisted at an unnatural angle. The injury disrupted the zombie's movements, making it even more sluggish than before.

  "Now's my chance!"

  Ethan didn't hesitate. He followed up with a precise thrust of his dagger, driving it into the zombie's head. The rotting flesh and fragile bone offered little resistance as the blade pierced its skull.

  Just to be certain, Ethan struck again with his shield, smashing the zombie's head into an unrecognizable mess before stepping back to assess the situation.

  Breathing heavily, he glanced around, scanning the area for any additional threats. Only after confirming that both zombies were fully incapacitated did he allow himself to relax.

  "Two zombies down, and not a single scratch. I'll call that a perfect first battle."

  Ethan gave himself a mental pat on the back, a small way of releasing the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

  But he didn't stop there. He carefully replayed the fight in his mind, analyzing every movement and decision to refine his technique.

  "When I was fully focused, it felt like I could see everything more clearly…"

  Ethan wasn't sure, but he suspected this heightened awareness might be a side effect of his improved spiritual power. If that was the case, then even with his limited physical strength, he had a decent chance of holding his own—so long as he remained calm and focused.

  "I'll need to test this theory in future fights," he decided.

  With that thought, he sheathed his dagger, knelt down, and examined the two corpses.

  "Do zombies… drop loot?" he wondered, half-jokingly.

  Of course, this wasn't a game. The zombies' tattered clothing and decaying bodies yielded no treasure or equipment, much to Ethan's disappointment.

  "If only it were that easy," he muttered. "If they actually dropped equipment, I could just hunt lone zombies and gear up in no time."

  Shaking his head, he pushed the fantasy aside and focused on his primary objective—herb gathering.

  Ethan quickly collected the herbs near the zombie corpses, then moved on. To stay safe, he carefully managed his distance from the Rogue camp. Whenever he ventured far enough to lose sight of it, he would backtrack slightly, ensuring he never strayed too far. He moved in a sweeping arc with the camp at its center, gradually expanding his search radius.

  His approach was methodical. He searched for herbs, harvested them, and killed any lone zombies he encountered along the way. Over the course of half a day, he managed to collect several herbs and dispatched more than a dozen zombies.

  Thankfully, he didn't run into any of the Quill Rats or Fallen he dreaded.

  Quill Rats, in particular, were a nightmare for someone like Ethan. These creatures blended seamlessly into the grass and shadows, making them nearly impossible to spot before they attacked. Worse still, they were capable of launching surprise attacks from a distance, and Ethan's current skills and equipment were no match for such threats.

  The Fallen were nothing to scoff at. They always operated in groups and were typically led by a Fallen Shaman capable of casting fireballs and resurrecting their fallen comrades. This made them doubly dangerous—both alive and dead. Their tendency to dart around erratically only made them harder to deal with, as they avoided direct confrontations and relied on speed and numbers to overwhelm their opponents.

  Even trying to escape was risky. Fallen were incredibly fast, and anyone attempting to run would often be chased down and surrounded.

  With Ethan's current strength, encountering even a small group of five Fallens would undoubtedly result in his demise.

  So, when he ventured slightly farther than usual and spotted a group of red-skinned Fallens dancing and shouting around a bonfire in the distance, his decision was immediate. He turned and began retreating.

  "I really am… unbelievably weak," Ethan muttered to himself, shaking his head.

  In the game, even a level-one character could take out Fallens without much difficulty. But here, in this world, he didn't even have the qualifications to face them. The realization was both humbling and frustrating.

  "If Akara had asked me to clean out the Den of Evil, I'd have no choice but to back out like a coward."

  Moving cautiously, Ethan kept his movements controlled to avoid attracting the Fallens attention. At the same time, he observed the small camp they had set up.

  "When I get back, I'll have to tell Kashya. She should send the Rogues to deal with these Fallen. They're too close to the camp. If they're allowed to grow stronger, it could lead to serious trouble…"

  As he was thinking this, Ethan noticed something strange.

  In the distance, a figure appeared. Before he could wonder if his eyes were playing tricks on him, the figure moved. One moment it was far away, and the next, a flash of light lit up the darkened sky. Suddenly, the figure was standing right outside the Fallen camp.

  The figure—a woman, Ethan realized—raised a long staff. She waved it, and a massive fireball shot out, streaking toward the Fallens. The fireball exploded in their midst with a deafening roar, engulfing the entire group in a blaze of flames.

  The brightness of the explosion lit up the night, and when the flames finally subsided, there was nothing left of the Fallens. The only one remaining in the camp was the woman, who now turned her gaze directly toward Ethan.

  Ethan stiffened. Before he could even process what had just happened, another flash of light erupted, and the woman who had been standing far away was suddenly right in front of him.

  "Hello," the woman said.

  Ethan understood that.

  "My name is Isendra," she added.

  He understood that too.

  "I'm a mage from the East. Is there a town nearby where I can find food and shelter?"

  That, he didn't understand.

  Ethan's response was simple. "Hi, my name is Ethan."

  There was an awkward pause.

  Isendra's expression shifted into a confused frown. Why wasn't this young man answering her question? Was he being cautious? Wary of her intentions? Or did he simply not understand her?

  "I don't mean any harm," she said, her voice calm. "I just need a place to rest and buy some food."

  Ethan still couldn't fully understand her, but he caught the word "food" and guessed the general meaning. In response, he pointed in the direction of the Rogue camp.

  Isendra tilted her head, studying him. Was he showing her the way?

  Ethan's decision to direct Isendra to the camp wasn't made lightly. He had recognized her almost immediately, despite her not introducing herself beyond her name.

  Isendra was one of the original five character classes from Diablo 2, a mage who wielded the elemental powers of fire, ice, and lightning. While Ethan didn't know her backstory or real name, her appearance was unmistakable.

  Her slightly dark skin, green leather-like armor that left much of her midriff exposed, a short black skirt, brown leather boots, and golden accessories, all of it matched perfectly with her in-game depiction. The staff she carried, while outwardly simple, radiated powerful magical energy that Ethan could feel even at a distance.

  For a fleeting moment, he felt an irrational urge to take the staff for himself. The thought was so sudden and intrusive that it startled him. Recognizing this as a dangerous sign, Ethan immediately began practicing the meditation techniques the Ancient One had taught him, calming his restless thoughts.

  Isendra noticed this.

  "Oh?" she said, a hint of surprise in her tone. "A mage apprentice, are you? Weak, but you've got a solid will." Her gaze shifted to the herbs strapped to Ethan's back. "Collecting herbs, I see. Your teacher must specialize in potion-making. Take me to meet them. I have questions about the dense dark energy in this area."

  Chapter 10

  Ethan couldn't fully understand Isendra's words, but as the day wore on, the sky grew darker, and his vision began to blur. It was time to head back to the camp.

  Despite their inability to communicate properly, Ethan gestured for Isendra to follow him and led her toward Rogue Camp.

  The wooden fences and the Rogues patrolling at key points around the perimeter made it clear to Isandra that this wasn't the "town" she had been hoping to find. However, from her interactions with Ethan so far, she realized that their lack of shared language would only complicate things further. Choosing to hold back her questions for the time being, she quietly followed him inside.

  "Nice to see you back safely," one of the Rogues on guard greeted Ethan warmly.

  Then, her gaze shifted to Isendra, and her expression became more cautious. "Who are you, and what's your purpose here?"

  "I'm a mage from the East," Isandra replied calmly. "I've been traveling for some time and noticed the growing dark energy in this area. I came here to investigate."

  "Welcome, Master Mage," the Rogue said respectfully. "You're most welcome here in Rogue Camp. I believe Captain Kashya would be the one to answer your questions."

  With a nod to her fellow guards, the Rogue escorted Isandra further into the camp to meet Kashya.

  Ethan, meanwhile, had no interest in the conversation that would follow. Even if he did, he wouldn't have understood much of it. Instead, he headed straight for Akara's tent, carrying the herbs he had gathered. His priority now was to exchange them for supplies and see if he could learn anything about potion-making from Akara.

  He hadn't initially planned on learning such a skill, but during his herb gathering and battles with zombies, Ethan had realized something crucial: in a world like his own, full of endless oceans, he couldn't guarantee he'd never get sick or injured. With no companions to rely on, having a few survival tricks up his sleeve—like potion-making—was a necessity.

  After carefully counting the herbs Ethan had collected, Akara handed him the prepared food, water, and a few gold coins as his reward. When Ethan brought up his interest in learning how to make magic potions, Akara looked thoughtful but ultimately nodded.

  "The corruption of dark power is worsening," Akara explained, her tone weary. "These herbs are becoming increasingly tainted with dark energy. Before I can use them, I have to purify that energy, which drains a great deal of my own strength."

  Akara sighed, her expression heavy. "The nuns of the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye are stretched thin. They don't have the capacity to help with these smaller tasks. If you're willing to assist me with them, I can teach you the basics of magic potion-making."

  Then, after a pause, she added, "But as for healing spells, I don't think that's something you can learn."

  Ethan asked why, and Akara explained that the healing magic used by the Sisterhood was deeply rooted in faith. Unlike the spells used by most mages, which drew from personal skill and mastery of energy, the healing techniques of the Sisterhood relied on divine blessings and borrowed power.

  "I see," Ethan said, nodding in understanding.

  He wasn't disappointed. Potion-making alone was valuable enough. Besides, he hadn't expected to learn everything.

  But there was one catch.

  Before Akara could teach him potion-making, Ethan had to memorize an entire tome on the basics of herbal medicine.

  "You need to learn how to identify and differentiate herbs," Akara explained. "Every herb has unique properties, and you'll need to understand them fully before you can begin crafting potions."

  With the introductory book in hand, Ethan left Akara's tent, feeling slightly dejected.

  "What's the point of this book?" he muttered to himself as he returned to his tent. "How useful can this knowledge really be to me? Are these herbs even going to exist outside of this world?"

  His frustration lingered as he opened the book. But as he began to read, Ethan realized he had been completely wrong in his assumptions.

  The book wasn't a simple manual filled with descriptions of fixed herb shapes, colors, and medicinal properties. Instead, it was an introduction to using mental power to analyze the "energy characteristics" within herbs.

  Rather than classifying herbs by their physical traits, the book taught how to identify and categorize them based on the energy they contained—how it behaved, what effects it could produce, and what kinds of potions it was suitable for.

  "Wow…" Ethan muttered, flipping through the pages.

  This method of identification wasn't limited to the plants in this world. By focusing on the energy properties of herbs rather than their appearances, the knowledge in this book could potentially be applied to other worlds and planes of existence as well.

  For instance, any herb that could stop bleeding or accelerate wound recovery was categorized as suitable for making red potions. Even two herbs that looked entirely different might belong to the same category because they shared the same essence and could be used to create identical potions.

  "So that's how it works!"

  This book wasn't just an introductory guide to herbal medicine, it was a specialized manual tailored for mages. It emphasized extracting the essential qualities of plants, amplifying their effects, and prolonging their duration. In essence, it taught the true fundamentals of potion-making. This realization reassured Ethan that the book wouldn't become useless if he ever left this world.

  In fact, the knowledge it offered about crafting magical potions turned out to be far more significant than he initially thought.

  Understanding the book's value sparked a newfound enthusiasm in Ethan. He spent the entire night poring over its pages, absorbing its contents. He only paused when a nun from Akara came to summon him in the morning, reminding him of the passing time.

  "I don't even feel tired!"

  Aside from a bit of stiffness from sitting for so long, Ethan felt as energetic as ever, a stark contrast to his previous life. Back then, even at peak health, working through the night would have left him utterly drained.

  "Is this because of my improved mental power?"

  Mental power came from two sources: the body and the soul. Both needed to be strong for someone to reach their full potential. Ethan's physical condition, though not remarkable, was above average and steadily improving due to his youthful, developing body.

  His mental strength, on the other hand, had always been unremarkable. However, his years of training with the space-time pointer had laid a solid foundation for controlling it. The unexpected side effects of his possession had also given him an advantage. The remnants of the original owner's mental energy had been absorbed by his soul, enhancing his own.

  Had he not begun practicing mental exercises, this energy would have dissipated over time. But by training consistently, he managed to harness it, triggering a period of rapid improvement.

  As his mental strength grew, it stimulated subtle changes in his physical body. While the effect was small, merely making his cells more active—it had slightly boosted his recovery and growth. For Ethan, who was already in a stage of rapid physical development, this enhancement became more pronounced.

  "Maybe mages aren't as frail as I thought!"

  The realization struck Ethan as logical. After all, mages in various universes weren't weaklings. In the Marvel world, for example, they were capable of wielding mystical energy while engaging in melee combat. Gandalf from The Lord of the Rings carried a staff and a sword, epitomizing the image of a battle-hardened mage. Even Merlin from Arthurian legends reportedly preferred swordplay over magic in certain situations.

  Yet in most of the games and stories Ethan had encountered, mages were portrayed as fragile, frail beings. It seemed ridiculous now. How could a mage endure long journeys through mountains and forests, engage in life-or-death battles, and still be considered physically weak?

  Even the idea of mages toiling in their laboratories for days or weeks on end seemed implausible without a robust constitution. If they were truly fragile, wouldn't they have succumbed to exhaustion or sudden illness?

  "So, being healthy is a prerequisite for becoming a good mage?" Ethan mused, stretching his stiff body as he emerged from his tent.

  As he turned his head, he noticed Isandra, the female mage he'd guided to the camp the previous day. She was stepping out of her own tent, staff in hand. It seemed Kasha had already accepted her into the camp.

  Isendra spotted Ethan as well and approached with a polite smile.

  "Good morning, Ethan. Thank you again for showing me the way yesterday."

  Instead of using words, she communicated with him through mental energy. Ethan appreciated her courtesy in seeking his permission before establishing the mental link.

  "You're welcome," he replied. "Even without me, you'd have found the camp soon enough."

  Curious, Isendra continued, "Where did you say you're from again?"

  Mages in this world typically came from a few major factions, all of which shared a common language. The fact that Ethan couldn't communicate fluently had intrigued her.

  "From the East," Ethan replied vaguely. "My teacher isn't well-known."

  "The East?" Isendra frowned in disbelief. Most mage groups were based in the East, and language barriers were unheard of among them.

  Sensing her skepticism, Ethan quickly added, "It's much farther east than you're thinking. I got here by accident using a teleportation scroll, so I'm not entirely sure how far it is."

  "Farther east?" Isendra still seemed doubtful but chose not to press further. "Anyway, I was about to look for Akara. Kashya mentioned she might need my assistance. Do you know where I can find her?"

  Relieved by the change of subject, Ethan smiled. "I'm headed to Akara as well. Let's go together."