At dawn, as the sun rose, the remnants of the night brought a hazy mist.
A sturdy cedar boat cut through the thin fog on the sea, riding the waves until it ran aground on a sandy beach.
We're here!
Lorne, aboard the boat, looked up at the outline of a remote island ahead, suddenly feeling a surge of energy as he immediately jumped off the deck, grabbed the towline, and tied the boat to a nearby reef.
Then, he climbed to higher ground to survey the area.
The small island, only a dozen square kilometers in size, was fully visible from his vantage point.
The island was relatively desolate and narrow, surrounded by jagged, protruding rocks.
There was almost no vegetation or animal life, and a strong sulfur smell lingered in the air.
As a dwelling, it was indeed shabby and barren; but as a hunting ground, it was perfect.
This was because the island had recently formed from the cooling debris of an underwater volcanic eruption.
It wasn't marked on any nautical charts, so it was unlikely that any outsiders would stumble upon it.
Moreover, newly formed volcanic islands like this often didn't last long.
They would eventually crumble under the relentless assault of waves and currents, sinking back into the sea.
This meant there was no need to worry about cleaning up or covering tracks.
Historically, many islands that appeared and disappeared suddenly were the result of similar phenomena.
After inspecting the secret base he had prepared in advance, Lorne nodded in satisfaction.
He chose a relatively high and hidden spot along the shore and casually scattered a handful of wyvern teeth he had collected earlier.
The dozen or so dagger-sized, pale dragon teeth scattered across the ground.
To his surprise, they took root on their own, like seeds bursting with vitality.
They greedily absorbed the magical energy from the earth and air, rapidly growing and twisting into skeletal soldiers with faint draconic features.
These bone soldiers stood silently before Lorne, awaiting his command.
Spartoi, the Dragon-Tooth Warriors, were a widely known summoning technique in Greek magecraft.
Since they were derived from dragon species, their hardness, flexibility, and magical conductivity far surpassed that of ordinary skeletons or undead, making them highly reliable servants.
Lorne wasn't particularly skilled in summoning magic, but he seemed to have an astonishing talent for using Spartoi.
Of course, this was likely due to his bloodline.
Legend had it that the hero Cadmus, while searching for his sister Europa who had been abducted by Zeus, killed Ares' dragon.
The goddess Athena then instructed Cadmus to till the earth and sow the dragon's teeth.
The sown teeth grew into a fully armed army of warriors.
These warriors fought each other, and the last five survivors were called the "Spartoi," meaning "the sown ones."
They were the precursors to the Dragon-Tooth Warriors.
These Spartoi helped Cadmus build the city described in Apollo's oracle, which he named Thebes...well the same Thebes that was now Lorne's nominal hometown.
Thus, the art of summoning Spartoi could be considered a hereditary talent.
Thanks to this bloodline gift, even with ordinary wyvern teeth and his current Gold-rank abilities, Lorne could easily summon a group of Silver-rank Spartoi to serve as his minions.
While these servants were hardly a threat in the vast Oceanus Sea, they were perfect for manual labor.
"Let's get to work."
Seeing that the dozen or so Spartoi had fully formed, Lorne waved his hand and issued the command.
Immediately, the Spartoi split into two teams.
One team headed to the shore to unload the various supplies from the boat, while the other stayed behind to drive stakes and begin constructing a camp that would serve as a resting place, defensive position, and magical workshop.
These tireless, hardworking laborers completed the task in just two or three hours, then stood guard around the camp, awaiting further orders.
Glancing at the sun, which hadn't yet reached its zenith, Lorne stretched his limbs and began leisurely unpacking the dozen or so bundles, taking stock of his earlier gains.
In terms of potions, he had 10 vials of energy tonic, 7 vials of coagulant, 5 vials each of paralyzing and weakening potions, 6 vials of lethal poison... and two jars of Kykeon porridge that he wasn't quite sure how to evaluate...
In terms of materials, there were 32 gemstones—18 of which had been used and engraved with magic circles, while the remaining 14 were still raw and untouched.
Additionally, there were 12 mature mandrake roots, three bottles of mosquito-repellent mint oil for meditation, a handful of dragon teeth and scales, as well as various herbs, ores, dried rations, purified water, and other miscellaneous items...
Finally, in terms of equipment:
Four enchanted rings, a bronze sword, a dull gray chestplate, a bronze hunting bow, and two quivers of bronze arrows...
Looking at the abundant strategic reserves before him, Lorne couldn't help but smile, a faint curve of satisfaction forming on his lips.
At this moment, his mind conjured up the image of a certain great witch, waking up to find her small treasury plundered, lying on the ground crying and throwing a tantrum.
That's right, all of this was the "gold" his dear witch teacher had "dropped" for him before he left.
After all, during his chess games with Hecate, Lorne had nearly lost all the savings he had accumulated.
But the upcoming [Divine Rite] to ascend to demigodhood was already on the horizon.
After much deliberation, the unscrupulous student decided to target Circe.
There was no helping it,
After all, there were only two "bosses" on the entire island of Aeaea who could drop loot.
He definitely couldn't defeat Hecate, the Goddess of the Dark Moon, and he wasn't confident in setting traps for her either.
So, for the sake of his student's future, he had no choice but to let his witch teacher suffer a little.
Consider this a small compensation for all the torment she had put him through over the years.
As Lorne justified his unscrupulous actions, he familiarized himself with the new equipment he had "borrowed" from Circe.
For weapons, feel was crucial.
If his upcoming actions were to fail due to unfamiliarity with his equipment, it would be both foolish and fatal.
After a brief trial, Lorne gained a rough understanding of the items he had acquired.
The four rings provided effects of protection, offense, concealment, and recovery, respectively.
The gemstones embedded in them were infused with the elemental magics of fire, water, earth, and air, forming a perfect cycle that significantly enhanced the user's control over Hermetic runes.
Clearly, this was a complete set of magical equipment, of excellent quality, and one of Circe's prized possessions.
As for the bronze sword, chestplate, bronze hunting bow, and two quivers of bronze arrows, their origins were unclear.
They bore traces of rust and battle damage, indicating they were quite old.
Most likely, they were high-grade equipment that had fallen into the sea after some divine war or major conflict, only to be picked up by Circe and added to her collection.
However, since she had no use or interest in them, the witch had left them unrepaired, allowing them to gather dust in her storage.
By now, the runes that once enhanced the weapons and their inherent spiritual energy had mostly faded.
Yet, even so, these items still retained the quality of Gold-rank equipment, capable of fully unleashing Lorne's combat potential.
It was such a waste, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of regret.
After all, every mage dreams of melee combat, especially someone like him, who was a not-so-conventional sorcerer.
But as long as they worked, that was enough.
He could worry about the rest later.
Lorne swung the bronze sword in his hand, the blade humming as it cut through the air.
His gaze turned toward the vast, deep expanse of the Oceanus Sea.
Everything was ready.
The hunt was about to begin!