Chapter 38: Journey Through the Nether

Nether Wart, essential for potion-making. Blazes, walking furnaces and the only reliable source of Blaze Rods. Brewing Stand, can't make potions without one. So, naturally, Eric found himself deep in the infernal chaos of the Nether, swinging a sword at burning monsters like it was just another Tuesday.

CLANG!

His blade struck a Blaze, but instead of the satisfying crunch of flesh, it rang like steel on steel.

No one really knew what these things were made of, but clearly, it wasn't anything soft.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Several Blazes hurled fireballs at him from all directions. The barrage would've been fatal for anyone else, but Eric simply raised his shield with a grunt. The fireballs exploded harmlessly against it, not even denting the thing.

[Achievement Unlocked: Dancing with Fire]

One Blaze Rod acquired.

Creeeeak...

A few Wither Skeletons crept up from behind, hoping for a cheap shot. They never got close. With sharp spatial awareness and flawless footwork, Eric dispatched them in three swift strikes.

The Sweeping Edge enchantment was living up to its name. One slash crippled the target, and the concussive wave shattered the bones of the others nearby.

Honestly, it was far more brutal than in the game.

After camping near the Blaze spawner for a bit and gathering the materials he needed, Eric realized there wasn't much else to scavenge from this Nether Fortress. So, he called it a day. On the way out, he scooped up some Soul Sand and Glowstone for good measure.

He even sliced through a Magma Cube and collected a handful of Magma Cream, excellent for brewing Fire Resistance potions. Handy stuff, really. Nothing like turning lava into a minor inconvenience.

Stepping through the portal, he exhaled.

"Whew."

Back in the overworld.

The air didn't smell like rotten eggs and burning socks. Much better.

Beneath his farm, Eric hollowed out a new chamber to plant his hard-earned Nether Wart crop.

[Achievement Unlocked: Local Brewery]

Time to put those Blaze Rods to use. First order of business: a Brewing Stand. Then, of course, a few potions to christen the setup.

His enchanting table, brewing station, and Nether portal were now neatly organized in a single hall. He'd even added some basic decoration. For the first time, it was starting to look like a real wizard's sanctum.

"You know," he muttered, admiring his work, "might as well build a proper wizard tower."

Grinning, he grabbed a freshly-brewed Swiftness potion, enhanced it with Glowstone Dust, and turned it into a splash potion using gunpowder.

Then, off to the stables.

Smash!

The bottle shattered, showering two of his best horses in shimmering mist. He followed it up by feeding them both golden carrots.

Moments later, the pair trotted back with a new foal, lightning-fast and full of attitude.

He repeated the process twice more.

Finally…

Speed: 20 m/s.

He'd done it. A thoroughbred born for the wind.

He built a private stall just for this prized steed, then returned to his brewing station to stock up. Strength, Swiftness, Night Vision, Water Breathing, Fire Resistance… he brewed a full set.

Unfortunately, the Ghast Tear had plunged into a lava lake before he could grab it. No Regeneration potion today.

Still, as Eric picked up a Fire Resistance potion, his thoughts drifted back to Moria.

You're not the only one who can play with fire, Balrog.

But brute force was another matter entirely. That thing was massive. Even without flame magic, it could demolish buildings just by charging through them.

And Smaug? Eric still wouldn't bet against the dragon in a head-on fight.

Not enough. Still not enough.

He looked down at his Elven Steel armor.

Even with enchantments, he was painfully aware of how far he had to go.

Stronger. I need to be stronger.

He opened his inventory. Twelve diamonds. Then looked toward the Nether portal.

The Nether still held many secrets, like Bastions. Dangerous places crawling with Piglins, but also potentially holding Netherite, rare diamond gear, and treasure beyond measure.

He packed his Fire Resistance potions, enchanted golden apples, Lembas bread, and other supplies. Then stepped back into the Nether.

"This direction looks promising."

Finding a Bastion was no easy task, especially when everything felt so real.

Eric picked a path and committed, fighting skeletons, laying cobblestone roads, crossing through warped forests, cooking Hoglins over open flame, and swimming through lava lakes with potions in hand.

Days passed, he had no idea whether it was day or night anymore until finally, he spotted it.

A massive obsidian-black structure loomed in the distance. Piglin sentries roamed the ramparts, some with crossbows, others wielding golden swords and axes. A few even wore armor.

Unlike the mindless Zombie Pigmen he'd encountered earlier, these Piglins had something behind their eyes. Intelligence. Cunning.

Eric slipped on a pair of golden boots he'd crafted for this exact reason.

[Achievement Unlocked: Glory Days]

A few Piglins patrolling with crossbows paused to sniff the air and give him a long look. Then, they went about their business.

Eric let out a quiet breath.

He still had nightmares about his first run-in with Piglins, getting mobbed in seconds because he didn't know the rules.

And those Brutes? Their golden axes could cleave through shields like butter. One wrong move and it was game over.

Stealth was the name of the game.

He slowly approached the Bastion, placing cobblestone one block at a time.

Gold armor might fool the standard Piglins, but Brutes didn't care. They had fifty health and zero patience.

Honestly, the only thing tougher was a troll in a bad mood.

But Eric had one thing they didn't: brains.

He waited until a Brute entered a dead-end corridor, then quietly built a wall behind it.

Thud. Thud.

The Brute turned, confused, and found itself completely sealed in.

Muffled grunts followed. Eric moved on.

It became a routine. One by one, he walled them in. Brutes, regular Piglins, even the unsuspecting civilians.

None were safe from the sneaky architect with a never-ending supply of cobblestone.

Some of the smarter Piglins exchanged worried glances. Whispers about a legendary "Ancient Builder" began to spread. Too bad it was already too late.

Eric looted the Bastion clean.

One diamond chestplate. One diamond pickaxe. A bar of Netherite. A Smithing Template.

Plus, dozens of hidden gold blocks, enchanted crossbows, golden carrots, Crying Obsidian, and other odds and ends. His inventory overflowed, he had to leave half the junk behind.

But all in all, a good haul.

With the Crying Obsidian, he crafted something special: a Respawn Anchor.

Only usable in the Nether, but it let him revive up to four times before needing a recharge.

He placed it near the portal and powered it up with Glowstone.

Now, even if he died, he'd come back.

He didn't return home just yet. Instead, he pressed on, following the Bastion trail deeper into the Nether.

One Netherite bar isn't nearly enough.

And so, Eric wandered the hellish landscape for nearly a month.

Then, one day, he reached another Bastion.

Same method: trap them, loot the chests.

Inside one of the boxes, nestled between gold nuggets and bones, was the final piece.

A fourth Ancient Debris fragment.

"Finally," Eric muttered.

At his portable crafting table, he combined four Gold Ingots with four Netherite Scraps.

With a final clink, the fourth Netherite Ingot dropped into his hand.