Only the heavens knew how many piglin bastions Eric had plundered for those four netherite ingots.
Sure, he could have mined for ancient debris himself, but the odds of finding it were absurdly low. And even if he got lucky, he still wouldn't have enough diamonds to craft a proper set of armor. Bastions, at least, solved both problems in one go.
Every time he cracked open one of those central treasure chests, there was always at least one piece of diamond gear inside—sometimes armor, sometimes weapons or tools. All incredibly useful.
To make room, Eric had tossed out nearly everything else. Food, potions, even an entire stack of iron blocks had been dumped on the floor without a second thought.
Iron was abundant. He had a whole vein of it under his base. He could afford to be wasteful.
But all of it had been worth it.
His journey through the Nether had finally come to an end, and Eric began retracing his steps toward the portal.
Getting there had been a nightmare. Building bridges across lava lakes, scrambling over jagged terrain, dodging mobs that spawned out of nowhere—it was a logistical mess.
But going back? That was easy.
All he had to do was sprint along the neatly paved road he'd already built.
A few days later, Eric reached the obsidian archway. On the way, he'd even found time to slice through a few ghasts and knock off some endermen from a warped forest.
He weighed the cool, glassy ender pearls in his palm and smirked.
"Bet these would fetch a good price in town," he muttered. "Although… if someone accidentally threw one, they'd probably have a heart attack."
It was time to go home.
With a flash of white light, the real world swallowed him whole.
Sunlight stabbed at his eyes like a blade. After weeks in the Nether's blood-red gloom, the sight of blue skies and golden-green meadows was almost surreal.
"Autumn's here," he murmured, as a cool breeze tousled his hair.
It had been over half a year since Eric arrived in this strange world.
He always seemed to be on an adventure. Or on his way to one.
He inhaled deeply, trying to push the lingering stink of brimstone from his nose, then stretched his arms high above his head and relished the silence.
First things first—he cleaned out his backpack in the storage room and made a beeline for the enchantment table.
Thanks to his grind in the Nether, he now had a full set of diamond armor—some even came with decent enchantments.
His experience level had hit 42. That was enough for a good enchantment spree.
Eric dumped everything into books, rerolling again and again for the traits he wanted. When XP ran low, he went fishing. Then he'd enchant again.
And so it went. For another full week.
By now, his chests were bursting with enchanted loot—bows, rods, books. Some garbage, some decent.
One enchanted rod with Luck of the Sea III helped a lot.
He even cobbled together a nearly perfect bow at the anvil: Power V, Infinity, Unbreaking III, Punch II, and Flame.
It wasn't as strong as the orcish bow he'd found before, but the enchantments more than made up for it. At least until he had enough experience to fully kit out the orcish one.
He also maxed out his fishing rod—adding Lure III and Mending from books he'd fished up.
All of this was nice, but it was just the warm-up.
The real prize was the full set of diamond armor.
And now, it was time to upgrade.
Eric stepped up to the smithing table, pulled out his glimmering diamond armor and the four hard-earned netherite ingots.
[Achievement Unlocked: Covered in Debris]
He slipped on the armor, now transformed into a sleek, obsidian-black set that shimmered with an eerie glow. It was thick, heavy-looking, but moved like a second skin. The perfect blend of power and mobility.
For a moment, standing there in the newly-forged armor, Eric felt genuinely invincible.
Nothing in this world could push him back.
Each piece added a full point of knockback resistance. With Protection IV on every slot, he was practically a walking fortress.
Now he felt ready to start challenging the real dangers out there.
But first—one last finishing touch.
He took out the ancient elven longsword he'd found long ago and gave it the enchantments it truly deserved:
Sharpness V, Unbreaking III, Sweeping Edge III, Looting III, Mending, Fire Aspect II.
He debated adding Knockback, but decided against it.
Flinging enemies across the room only made it harder to finish them off. Better to keep them close.
With everything finally in place, Eric didn't stop. He kept mining. Farming. Feeding livestock. Brewing potions. Smelting ores. Building. Expanding.
The castle was growing. So was his stockpile.
But something still gnawed at him.
"No redstone. Not here, not in the Nether."
Without redstone, automation was a pipe dream. No hoppers, no contraptions. He couldn't test any tech. Not properly.
Time passed. Days blurred together. He worked without rest, doing everything himself.
And the castle began to thrive.
Then, one fine morning, something strange happened.
Eric was leaning lazily against the outer wall, soaking in the view, when he noticed a figure standing outside the gate.
Someone had arrived.
It was an old man in a grey cloak and a pointed hat, leaning on a wooden staff. He stood there silently, puffing on a long-stemmed pipe, staring up at the enormous structure before him with a furrowed brow.
It looked as if his entire understanding of reality had just been punched in the gut.
"Either I've lost my memory… or the world's gone mad," the man muttered to himself.
Curious, Eric yanked a lever nearby.
CLANG!
Two iron gates swung open with a loud crash. The old man jumped back, startled.
"Oh—oh! Greetings, stranger!" he called out, quickly composing himself.
Eric stepped forward, studying him.
It only took a single glance at that weathered, wise face, framed by a great white beard and those sharp, dark eyes twinkling with depth and mystery.
There was no mistaking him.
The grey wizard.
Gandalf.
"Good day, young man," Gandalf said politely, though still clearly bewildered. "I couldn't help but notice this… fortress. I don't recall anything like it standing here the last time I passed through. And while I admit I'm not as young as I used to be, my memory isn't that poor."
He took a long drag on his pipe, exhaling slowly.
"When I last came through this area that was less than a year ago, mind you—this was nothing but empty plain. In fact, I remember it quite well. There was nothing here."
"You're not mistaken," Eric said with a nod. "There really was nothing here back then."
He smiled.
"But I arrived a while ago. Found the spot quite suitable. So… I built a castle."
"You built this? All of it? Alone? And in less than a year?" Gandalf asked, eyes wide in disbelief.
Eric nodded again, casually.
Gandalf's brows drew tighter, deeper, as if trying to puzzle out some invisible truth in the air.
He puffed silently on his pipe again.
Someone, it seemed, was about to be recruited.