Drift Of The Multiverse

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?"