Ethan's Fantasy-Drift

Ethan eyed Rodney and the burly man, fully anticipating their next move.

"Hand over the magic stone, kid!" the burly man demanded, his voice rough and laced with greed.

Ethan almost rolled his eyes. It was just as predictable as he had imagined.

"Have you been tailing me all this time?" Ethan asked, ignoring the leader's barking orders. Instead, he focused on Rodney, his tone calm but with a hint of mockery.

"You were on State Island with me," Ethan continued, spreading his hands in a gesture of feigned helplessness. "You must know that I exchanged everything I had for supplies and my boat. Do you really think I still have the magic stone?"

His meaning was clear: Whatever you're looking for isn't here. Now what?

But as Ethan expected, his words didn't matter. The group closed in on him, ignoring his explanation entirely. Two of the men moved to block his retreat, weapons drawn, while Rodney brandished a machete with a malicious grin.

"Doesn't matter," Rodney sneered. "Even if you traded the stone, you won't be leaving here alive. Everything you've got is ours now."

The realization struck Ethan like a slow tide: it wasn't just about the magic stone. His light armor, the fine sword at his hip, and even the iron rod strapped to his back, all of it had painted a target on him.

"Like attracts like," Ethan muttered under his breath, shaking his head in dismay.

Rodney was the kind of man who could only fall in with those just as rotten as him. People like this weren't just thieves; they were the kind who'd kill first and loot later.

Though he had suspected Rodney's true nature before, confirming it now left no room for doubt. For Ethan, there was no hesitation. He had lived through the horrors of the Diablo World, battling unholy creatures that wanted nothing but destruction. These people, by comparison, were nothing more than petty, violent scavengers.

As the group drew closer, Ethan made a decision. There would be no talking his way out of this. Words were useless in situations like this, and he wasn't the type to beg for mercy.

Without warning, he spun on his heel, raised his right hand, and fired a short arrow from his bracer at one of the men behind him.

Boom!

The explosion was sudden and deafening. Flames erupted from the impact point, sending the unfortunate man reeling. The others froze in shock, stunned by the unexpected chaos.

Ethan wasted no time. He drew his sword in one fluid motion and lunged at another attacker, his blade flashing as it slashed across the man's throat.

The strike was clean, efficient—textbook perfect. The man's eyes widened in disbelief as blood poured from the wound, and he collapsed to the ground, twitching.

Ethan didn't pause to admire his handiwork. His expression remained cold as he stepped forward and delivered a final, merciful thrust to end the man's suffering.

It was only then that the others seemed to snap out of their stupor. The leader cursed loudly, his face twisting with anger as he turned to Rodney and backhanded him across the face.

"You told me he was just some rookie from State Island!" the burly man roared, his voice laced with fury. "You said he'd be an easy mark!"

Rodney staggered back, clutching his cheek, his confidence crumbling.

The leader glared at Ethan, his previous arrogance replaced with the wariness of a man who had clearly underestimated his opponent. He wasn't a fool, he could see the young man before him wasn't some naive kid.

The precision of Ethan's movements, the cold efficiency of his strike, and the magic-enhanced weaponry he wielded, all of it screamed danger.

"This kid's a killer," the leader muttered under his breath, his earlier greed now mixed with caution.

Ethan, of course, couldn't hear the man's inner thoughts. But if he could, he'd have found it ironic. This was the first time he had ever killed someone, and while he was no stranger to life-or-death situations, he certainly didn't see himself as a "ruthless killer."

Ethan glanced at the burly man and Rodney, noting their greedy expressions, and already knew exactly what kind of people he was dealing with.

"Man, this is actually a misunderstanding. I'm willing to give you half of all the supplies on my ship if you let me go," the burly man said, attempting to negotiate.

Hearing this, Ethan nearly burst out laughing. "If I had offered my supplies earlier, would you have let me leave safely?" he asked mockingly.

The burly man hesitated, his silence speaking volumes. He could lie, of course, but what would be the point? From Ethan's response, he understood the young man's stance clearly.

"Then there's nothing to talk about," the burly man admitted.

"There was never anything to talk about," Ethan replied coldly.

From the very beginning, Ethan had no intention of letting them go. Rodney was someone he had saved, only for him to harbor murderous intent against his benefactor. To spare such a person would be to invite trouble upon himself.

As for the others, they had already crossed the line by ambushing him and attempting to kill him. Did he expect them to forget everything and leave peacefully after this?

Cut the weeds, eliminate the roots.

Without a second thought, Ethan raised his hand, pretending as if he was about to fire another short arrow. The sudden motion sent the group into a panic, each of them scrambling to dodge what they assumed was an attack.

However, this time, Ethan only faked the movement. Instead, he cast a Frostbolt with his left hand.

Frostbolts didn't have the sheer damage of Firebolts, but their utility in battle was undeniable. Ethan aimed the Frostbolt at the ground near two of his opponents. The freezing air quickly spread, forming a slick layer of ice on the flat ground.

What happened next was almost comical. The two men, caught off guard by the sudden ice, lost their footing and fell hard. Before they could regain their balance, Ethan was already upon them.

With his sword in hand, he delivered two swift strikes, one for each of them.

One of the men tried to roll away in a last-ditch effort to avoid the blade, but his companion's corpse hindered his movement. Ethan's sword came down, ending his life with brutal efficiency.

The remaining members of the group, now terrified, scattered in different directions. The burly leader, however, decided on a different approach: running for his life.

Desperate to ensure his escape, the big man shoved Rodney toward Ethan, using him as a human shield to buy himself time.

"As long as I can reach the boat," he muttered to himself.

The leader's landing spot was in a different direction from Ethan's, and he had deliberately cleared the path earlier. If Rodney could delay Ethan for just a few moments, he was confident he could escape to safety.

But his plan was laughably naive.

The moment Rodney stumbled toward him, Ethan drew the iron rod from his waist. A bright arc of electricity sparked across the rod, crackling menacingly.

The arc leapt to Rodney, engulfing him in an electrified shock. Rodney's body convulsed violently as the electricity coursed through him. He fell to the ground, twitching uncontrollably, completely incapacitated.

Ethan didn't even spare him another glance.

Turning his attention to the fleeing leader, Ethan calmly sheathed his sword and raised his right hand. The magic circle engraved on his bracer activated as he cast the Fireball spell.

In an instant, a watermelon-sized ball of fire materialized in Ethan's hand. He hurled it forward, the spell whistling through the air as it pursued the burly man.

The leader, oblivious to the attack at first, felt a sudden surge of heat behind him. Realizing something was wrong, he didn't dare turn around. Instead, he sprinted toward a large tree, hoping to use it as cover.

"If I can just get behind the tree..."

The plan wasn't bad. The leader's combat instincts were sharp, and using the tree as both cover and a way to obscure himself from Ethan's view was a sound tactic.

Unfortunately for him, it wasn't enough.

The fireball didn't need to hit him directly. The moment it came close, it detonated with a deafening boom.

The shockwave sent the big man flying, slamming him against the very tree he had hoped to use as cover. The impact was so powerful that the trunk split in two, the top half crashing down in a shower of splinters.

The burly leader crumpled to the ground, his body limp and lifeless.

Ethan scanned the area, his gaze lingering on the unmoving figure of the leader. Satisfied that the man was dead, he finally lowered his hands.

His first real battle in the Sea of Calm had ended.

Six enemies dead. No injuries on his side.

The only resources he'd expended were two short arrows.

"It's a perfect fight," Ethan muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

*****

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