Ethan's Fantasy-Drift

In this skirmish, Ethan, armed with the overwhelming advantage of his equipment, utterly dominated his opponents, leaving no room for resistance.

The enemy lacked the courage to fight to the bitter end, leaving Ethan no opportunity to test his other equipment.

Even so, the battle served as a good chance for him to gauge his combat capabilities.

"Against regular bandits in the future, not only will they be unable to harm me, but I'll also be able to counter them with ease."

This wasn't mere overconfidence, it was a solid conclusion.

Ethan retrieved two short arrows from the battlefield. These arrows were not easy to replace. If he could recover them, he would.

He rummaged through the fallen bodies again, collecting bits and pieces of value. Among his findings, the weapons were by far the most useful.

"Maybe I'll get lucky and find some low-grade magic stones," he thought.

Even the tattered clothes on these bandits could potentially be bartered for something, but Ethan chose to leave them untouched. It wasn't because he lacked the means, he was far from desperate for 'money.' Rather, he felt a vague sense of discomfort at the thought.

Though he wouldn't call himself a noble person, desecrating corpses he had already killed felt unnecessary and distasteful.

Because of this principle, the robbers were left with their clothing intact, a final shred of dignity as they were laid to rest.

"Speaking of which, these guys have a boat docked by the shore. I wonder what kind of vessel it is?"

There were six of them, and it wasn't clear whether any crew remained onboard. But even if the ship was unguarded, a vessel capable of carrying six people was bound to be significantly larger than his own.

It didn't matter whether the robbers had discovered other islands before this one or how much food and water they had stashed on board. The ship alone made this encounter worthwhile. Ethan's voyage hadn't been in vain.

As dusk fell, Ethan decided not to return to his camp. Instead, he chose to investigate the bandits' ship.

If there were crew members aboard, he planned to deal with them under cover of darkness. If not, he could tally his spoils and inspect the vessel.

Following the path Rodney and his crew had carved earlier, Ethan quickly located the ship.

It was a brig, roughly fifteen meters in length, with a design reminiscent of the Caravel ships he used to sail in a grand strategy game during his previous life. However, this one was slightly smaller.

It was far superior to his own humble craft. This brig boasted two decks. Unlike his makeshift double-decked boat, this ship's interior deck was spacious enough for an average-height person to move about comfortably.

The main sail was a fore-and-aft rig, resembling a jib. While less stable than a traditional square sail, it excelled in speed and maneuverability, particularly in calm seas where such advantages were invaluable.

However, such a sail design also required greater effort to operate. For a lone sailor like Ethan, managing this ship at sea could easily become an exhausting ordeal.

"Should I sell it?"

That idea felt wasteful. It wasn't every day one came across a better ship without having to buy it. Selling it only to purchase another vessel later seemed absurd.

"Maybe it's time to find a crew," Ethan mused. "Sailing solo feels more and more unreliable."

By now, the sky had darkened completely, and the ship remained unlit.

"It looks like no one's on board."

Ethan cautiously explored the cabin, but no signs of life emerged. Still, he refrained from lighting any lamps, choosing instead to remain hidden in the shadows. He stayed alert throughout the night.

When the sun rose once more over the horizon, he finally confirmed that there were no other threats nearby.

He thoroughly searched the ship again, this time inventorying the remaining supplies. To his surprise, the situation was better than expected.

The ship was well-stocked with food and fresh water, indicating that Rodney's gang had recently resupplied before finding the island.

"Could these bastards have been following me?" Ethan muttered.

The thought wasn't far-fetched. When he had set out to sea, Rodney had seen the direction he was heading. Although tracking someone across the vast ocean was no small task, the existence of floating islands and navigational pointers made it entirely possible.

Once the course was set, it was simply a matter of sailing straight and heading to the first island indicated by the pointer. The odds of finding him were over seventy percent.

"I've still got a lot to learn," Ethan admitted. "Next time, I'll need to make my route more erratic. At the very least, I need to completely avoid any obvious paths that could be traced."

Having learned this hard lesson, Ethan mentally added it to his growing list of survival strategies.

After securing the ship, Ethan left to comb the nearby shore once more.

There were no signs of a camp. Rodney's group had likely rushed straight to the island's center upon landing.

Perhaps, in their minds, whether Ethan was present or not, their priority was to secure the island's most valuable resources as quickly as possible.

In their eyes, if Ethan was indeed on the island, he would likely be exploring the central areas. So no matter what, heading there first was the most time-efficient option.

With all potential threats eliminated, Ethan resumed his exploration of the island. It took him another two months to fully uncover its secrets.

Ethan searched every corner he could, and his most significant find was a hidden mine. While he couldn't identify the specific type of ore, he knew that any kind of mine held immense value. The raw materials extracted from it could be exchanged for a wealth of resources.

Thanks to the extra cargo space provided by the newly acquired larger ship, Ethan was now able to transport a substantial amount of ore. Before long, rough chunks of ore were piled high in the ship's hold. To make room for them, he moved all the fruits and fresh water he had previously stored onto land. For his voyage, he only planned to bring along a small amount of fruit to meet his vitamin needs. As for fresh water, he decided to rely entirely on his Water Creation spell to supply him during his travels.

With the ship suddenly laden with heavy cargo, its draft became noticeably deeper. It took considerable effort for Ethan to maneuver the vessel into slightly deeper waters and anchor it there.

Just as he was about to resume his exploration, a sudden tremor nearly caused him to lose his balance.

"An earthquake?"

Earthquakes often served as early warnings for a sinking island.

"Looks like my time here is running out."

This particular island had no wildlife, which meant it wouldn't remain afloat for long, maybe a few months at best, or as little as a few days. Ethan had already been living on the island for two months, so it had likely persisted for quite a while.

"It's a shame I couldn't find a magic stone," he muttered, disappointed.

Ethan had always kept in mind the advice he'd received from the guild. His top priority on any new island was to locate a magic stone.

When he first discovered the mine, he'd hoped it might contain what he sought. Perhaps the ore was buried deep, and with some luck, he could stumble upon a magic stone among the veins.

But the reality was far from ideal. The mine turned out to be shallower than he had anticipated. No matter how far he ventured into it, he couldn't find anything remotely resembling a magic stone. The walls were lined with ore, sure, but none of it was what he was looking for.

Unwilling to give up, Ethan decided to put the longsword Kashya had given him to use, employing it as a makeshift mining tool. For hours, he dug and hacked away like a miner. Yet, despite exhausting himself and dulling the blade, all he managed to collect were more useless chunks of ore.

As the tremors became increasingly frequent—starting at intervals of half a day and now occurring roughly every two hours, Ethan realized he couldn't delay his departure any longer. The tremors were also growing in intensity, and the ground was beginning to show visible signs of damage: cracks formed, and the hillsides started to collapse into deep craters. Every sign urged Ethan to leave immediately.

Fortunately, Ethan had begun preparing to evacuate as soon as he'd felt the first tremor. He'd packed all his belongings, and to avoid wasting time navigating out of the bay in a hurry, he'd already relocated his ship to a more accessible spot.

As another tremor hit, Ethan felt the ground beneath him quake violently. The increasing frequency of the shocks left no room for hesitation. But just as he was about to head for the shore, he noticed a flash of white light in a nearby crater.

"What's that?"

At first, Ethan thought it was just his imagination, or perhaps sunlight reflecting off some ore. But the faint, unmistakable ripple of magical energy told him otherwise, this wasn't ordinary ore.

"A magic stone!"

Without a second thought, Ethan sprinted toward the crater. Sure enough, nestled within the dirt was a white stone, faintly glowing with a soft light and radiating waves of magical energy.

"A white magic stone? I wonder what attribute it holds."

He quickly assessed the terrain of the crater, analyzing the safest way to retrieve the stone. In mere seconds, he made his decision and leapt into the pit.

In that moment, adrenaline coursed through him, and he moved with a speed and agility that far exceeded his usual limits. As the ground quaked beneath him, he managed to snatch the magic stone mid-air as it bounced loose from the shifting earth.

Clutching his prize tightly, Ethan scrambled back out of the crater with the nimbleness of a monkey, following a pre-planned escape route. The moment his feet hit solid ground, he bolted for the beach like a man possessed.

The distance to the shore wasn't far, but Ethan couldn't believe how close the magic stone had been to the very spot he had chosen as his departure point. Buried beneath the surface, it had remained hidden until the tremors exposed it. If not for a series of lucky coincidences, he would never have found it.

Back at the shore, Ethan wasted no time. He hauled himself onto his small boat, raised the anchor, and set sail toward the larger ship he'd anchored farther out.

Once he reached the brig, he turned to look back at the island. Although the tremors were growing increasingly violent, it hadn't sunk yet. Reassured that he had some time, Ethan allowed himself a moment to examine the white magic stone in his hands.

"What attribute does this thing have?"

He stared at it intently. The magical energy it emitted felt strangely familiar. Ethan hadn't encountered many magic stones before, The one he had seen was red, a fire-attributed stone.

The only white magic stone he could recall seeing was the one the guild had used when helping him fill out his personal information.

*****

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