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, 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.