Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 62 In the world of magic, power and range are inherently at odds.
Because the mana available for any single spell is finite, focusing on destructive power inevitably shrinks the area of effect, while expanding the range necessitates a sacrifice in potency.
However, the magic unleashed upon the shores of Parayan Island defied those fundamental laws.
The blast had leveled everything within a dozens-meter radius, vaporizing the pirates so completely that not even a scrap of bone remained. Yet, it had cost only a handful of black powder and a pittance of mana—an amount Turan could recover in just a few breaths.
Turan brushed the soot from his palms, once again struck by how terrifyingly dangerous the Soul of Fire truly was.
I cannot allow any other family to lay their hands on this.
He had used wind magic to dramatically amplify the blast radius, but even accounting for that, the power was absurd. At this stage, it was essentially a high-tier consumable magic tool.
Of course, given the complexity of the manufacturing process, it was unlikely anyone would stumble upon it by accident. The requirement of mixing three specific substances in precise proportions and then having a mage infuse them with mana was far too exacting.
Aside from me, the only ones who might know about this... are the Carmine nobles who helped me kill Orvil.
Even among them, most had shown little interest. Only their leader, Visen, had peered into the notebook out of curiosity and copied the contents. They had been far more focused on the ritual to obtain the Pyromaniac bloodline ability. Given that saltpeter and sulfur weren't exactly common resources, it was unlikely they had successfully produced the Soul of Fire, but it was a risk worth monitoring.
Turan comforted Bije, who was chirping in protest about her ringing ears, and descended to the ground to systematically finish off the surviving pirates.
There were about thirty others who had stayed inside the buildings, either deep in sleep or too lazy to join the fray.
"P-please, spare me! I beg you—"
"Die!"
"Please take me as your subordinate! I'll be loyal, I swear!"
The reactions of those holed up varied wildly. Some saw the devastation on the shore and immediately fell to their knees; others resisted with desperate bravery; and some tried to switch sides on the spot.
Turan singled out the submissive ones. Instead of killing them, he used earth manipulation magic to bury them up to their necks in the sand.
The ones who resisted the longest were two knights stationed to guard the island. Turan neutralized them by using wind magic to scatter a pinch of the Soul of Fire toward them before detonating it. He could have killed them through conventional means, but he wanted to measure the exact output required to neutralize Knight-rank mages.
"Ugh..."
The result of the experiment: one dead instantly, the other in critical condition with ruptured internal organs. It was a successful test; he could now roughly estimate the necessary power and distance required for such targets.
The survivor, realizing his end was near, spat out curses through a mouthful of blood.
"Just you wait... our captain... will have his revenge...!"
"I was planning on visiting him soon anyway. Tell him to stop this nonsense in the afterlife."
Turan kicked the man's head, ending his life. There was no doubt that Cobinus was a Noble-rank mage, but even so, he wouldn't be stronger than Turan. If he were truly that skilled, he wouldn't be wasting his life playing pirate.
As he continued his sweep, Turan sensed over a dozen people gathered inside one of the larger buildings. An acrid stench wafted from within, piercing through the smoky scent of the Soul of Fire.
When he broke down the door of the warehouse-like structure, he found exactly what he expected: women in wretched conditions, huddled together like livestock.
"P-please spare us. We'll do anything, just please..."
"Were you all kidnapped by the pirates?"
"Yes!"
"Then get yourselves together and come out. You're free."
After saying that, Turan stepped outside without looking back. Many of them were in a state of undress or disarray; unless they had a personality like Lida's, he figured they wouldn't appreciate his gaze.
A moment later, the women hesitated as they stepped out of the warehouse. They gasped and screamed at the sight of the pirate corpses scattered across the beach. Some were so weak from prolonged abuse that they couldn't even walk, forced to lean on the shoulders of others.
"Th-there's a mine inside! There are kidnapped men there too—"
"I've already broken their shackles. How many pirates were on this island?"
"I'm not sure, but probably around sixty or seventy."
Turan nodded after tallying those he had wiped out with the wide-area explosion and those he had dealt with by hand. The numbers matched; even if a few were out on errands, there couldn't be more than one or two left. Since the only ship was the sailing vessel in the harbor, they had no way to escape.
"For now, go wash up and rest. Don't kill those men I buried over there; I have a use for them."
*
After instructing the women to find clothes and tidy themselves up, Turan headed back to the mine.
Beside the mangled corpse of the overseer, the miners were huddled together with anxious expressions. Their faces brightened instantly when they saw Turan.
"Ah, the mage has returned!"
"You're safe! Wh-what happened to the village?"
Seeing their faces light up reminded him of the citizens of Kalamaf. They were like fragile lambs, looking to him for salvation and stability. Turan admitted to himself that he secretly enjoyed being worshipped while protecting such people—not that he would ever breathe a word of that to anyone else.
"The pirates have been dealt with."
"Yes! Ah, we've prepared something here!"
"Prepared?"
"Since you said you came for saltpeter... if you need it, we'll carry everything to the village for you."
It turned out that while Turan was wiping out the pirates, the miners had organized the minerals they had excavated so they could be easily transported.
"I'll handle this myself. Go out, wash up, and rest. I've rescued the women as well, so go look after them."
"The women...? Ah!"
"Teiya! Please be alive..."
Several men who had family or lovers in the village ran toward the settlement immediately, not even stopping to wash the grime from their faces.
Once he confirmed everyone had left, Turan reached out toward the piles of ore. He used intense flames to melt the stones containing gold and silver, then used fluid manipulation to float and separate the metals. As for the saltpeter, he crushed the rock and separated the powder using telekinesis.
Ironically, this consumed hundreds of times more mana than devastating the village. He had to meticulously control the heat from the melting gold and silver to prevent the tunnels from collapsing or the minerals from vaporizing.
Once he solidified the liquefied gold and silver into ingots, they amounted to over a dozen kilograms each. They would be a significant fortune once refined into currency.
However, his primary goal was the saltpeter. Turan frowned as he checked the yield.
It's too little...
Perhaps because it was only a byproduct of their mining, the saltpeter powder only weighed about ten kilograms. Considering it was the primary ingredient for the Soul of Fire, he would need dozens of times more to feel truly secure.
Turan picked up a miner's pickaxe and headed deeper into the mine.
If there isn't enough, I'll just have to dig it myself.
He had never worked as a miner, but in the face of transcendent power, technique was unnecessary. With every swing of his mana-infused pickaxe, the ground gave way in massive chunks. Whenever the tunnels threatened to collapse under the force, he used telekinesis and earth manipulation to forcibly reinforce the ceiling.
The labor of a single transcendent mage far outstripped that of a hundred ordinary miners.
A few hours later, Turan emerged from the mine having secured more than his target amount.
"Phew... this should be enough."
[Are you done now?]
"Yeah."
[I'm tired.]
"Right, let's go back and rest."
Beside him, Bije, who had been digging into the ground with her beak and claws to help, wrote the words in the dirt with a weary expression.
After returning to the village with the haul, he found the rescued captives busy with various tasks. Those in poor condition were resting in the more intact buildings, while the healthy ones had brought out food supplies to cook and nurse the sick.
They're doing better than I expected.
He had thought they might be catatonic, but having survived the kidnapping, their initiative was remarkable. After confirming that none of the buried pirates had escaped, Turan approached the survivors. They were in the middle of a heated discussion.
"Um, is this okay? Technically, this food is all his spoils of war..."
"We have to stay alive first, don't we? It's not like he needs corpses. If we don't feed the sick right now, they'll die... Oh! Sir Mage!"
The woman who had been lecturing a sturdy man noticed Turan and bowed her head. Others stopped their work to greet him, and some even knelt.
"Stand up."
Since his voice was infused with the power of animal taming magic, the people had no choice but to obey. While everyone was dazed by the phenomenon, Turan asked in a dry tone.
"I see you've been tending to the sick and preparing food."
"Y-yes..."
The one leading the group was a woman in her mid-thirties. It seemed she had taken charge by acting as an older sister figure. Turan spoke to the tense woman in a kinder tone.
"You did well. Continue to lead the people, arrange places to rest, and maintain order. If more pirates appear, call for me."
The woman, who had clearly expected a reprimand, collapsed into a sitting position as if her legs had given out once Turan finished speaking and walked away. Since he had entrusted the work to someone who knew how to take initiative, things would be fine for a while.
Turan then pulled three or four pirates out of the ground near the beach. Naturally, they didn't dare dream of resisting a mage who had single-handedly slaughtered an entire village of their comrades in an instant.
"You want to live, don't you?"
"O-of course! If you spare us, we'll serve you with total loyalty!"
"Even if it costs us our lives...!"
Since he had only spared the ones who looked blatantly craven, the competition for loyalty was fierce. Turan silenced them with a light gesture.
"Among the pirates in this area, who is the cleanest?"
"Cleanest, you say...?"
"Do you mean the one who bathes the most?"
As expected of ignorant pirates, their level of thought was abysmal.
"I mean, are there any bastards who are relatively honest, don't mess with civilians, and at least don't kidnap people like you lot do?"
"Is there such a person...?"
"Is there?"
"The Red Whale crew?"
"Eh, they're still pirates in the end."
"No, I heard before that their captain doesn't tolerate human trafficking."
"Can they even make a living like that?"
After bickering among themselves, they soon agreed that the Red Whale Pirates fit Turan's criteria. They attacked merchant ships to collect tolls or loot, but they didn't kidnap people, and they were a disciplined group that even punished their own for indiscriminate raids on fishing villages.
After learning the location of their base, Turan buried the pirates back in the sand and went to the survivors to ask them the same thing. Upon hearing similar answers, Turan informed the captives of his plan.
"I will ask the Red Whale Pirates to return you to your homes. It's too difficult for me to take each of you back individually since you're all from different places. A portion of the minerals from the mine should be enough to cover the cost."
The captives were from various regions, ranging from the Siraf Wetlands to nearby small islands, the southern Enril Desert, and fishing villages to the east. Returning them all personally would take months. It was better to choose a reliable group among the pirates who operated multiple ships and delegate the task.
A man asked with a terrified expression.
"B-but... will pirates keep their word?"
"They will. Unless they want to end up exactly like that Cobinus fellow."
Turan's original plan was to leave for the Dakein Plains immediately after securing the saltpeter, but his mind had changed after seeing the atrocities here. He had seen a wicked shepherd—no different from a wolf—who kidnapped and abused the lambs of others.
Turan couldn't hunt down and massacre every pirate in the Southern Sea, but it wasn't difficult to pluck out one particularly glaring thorn. He had the power to do so now. Such an act would serve as a sufficient warning to other wicked shepherds.
*
After finalizing his plans, Turan moved into the largest house formerly used by the knights and immediately began producing the Soul of Fire. He had secured charcoal powder by using dozens of trees near the village as material; his preparations were perfect.
Normally, the combination didn't consume much mana, but producing hundreds of kilograms took a full day. He stopped to rest whenever his mana got low, as it would be troublesome if Cobinus attacked while he was drained.
When he finally emerged after finishing his preparations, he was met by the woman he had appointed as leader. She looked at him with a hesitant expression before speaking.
"S-sir Mage. We've organized all the wealth in the village. Would you like to check it?"
"Wealth?"
"Yes. Things found on the pirates' bodies, and what was mined from the cave but hadn't been sent to the superiors yet."
"Ah."
Come to think of it, it was only natural that they wouldn't have kept all the minerals inside the mine. He had been so focused on the Soul of Fire that he hadn't considered there would be uncollected stores of treasure.
Turan followed her to the warehouse. There, he was met by a mountain of precious metals—a hoard several times larger than what he had refined in the mine just the day before.
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