The disappearance of more than twenty humans, Half-Orcs, and Hobgoblins was undoubtedly insignificant to a pirate gang of over two hundred people scattered across the entire island.
But as dusk arrived and the sun slowly sank toward the western horizon, the situation began to change.
Those who had originally been searching the woods, grasslands, and bushes in groups of two or three were now rapidly gathering at the beach where they had landed and stored their boats.
Before long, a massive bonfire built from piled-up wood was lit.
The soldier, who had rested through the day, stood atop the mountain and looked toward the distance. He immediately turned and returned to the cave, reporting to his summoner, "Master, those pirates are gathering in one place. I think it won't be long before they realize they're missing quite a few companions."
"Oh? They're finally gathering together?"
Raymond's eyes lit up slightly, and even the hand stirring the cauldron came to a stop.
This so-called "cauldron" had been made from metal weapons such as scimitars and longswords taken from the pirates he had killed, using the Creator's Shaping ability.
As for the thick paste being stirred with water inside the pot, it consisted of crushed plant seeds mixed with a small amount of water.
On Earth, this plant had a very well-known name: Castor.
Raymond had stumbled upon these plants growing halfway up the mountain while returning to the cave at the summit. Inspiration had suddenly struck him, and he thought of a way to quickly incapacitate or even kill a large number of pirates.
Poisoning them!
As everyone knew, Castor seeds contained an extremely toxic substance called Ricin.
A dose of only a few tenths of a milligram could cause a strong adult man to die in agony.
Even in Faerûn, a world filled with all kinds of mysterious powers, magic, and divine spells, alleviating or eliminating Ricin poisoning was no easy or uncomplicated task.
Antidote potions might be able to do it, and divine spells that slowed the onset of poison or neutralized toxins might work as well.
But their scarcity meant that none of those methods could possibly handle over two hundred poisoned pirates at once.
There were many ways to kill someone. Fighting was not necessarily required.
This was one of the most valuable lessons Raymond had learned from the Necromancer Archmage—Astar.
After an entire afternoon of work, he had first used crude, primitive methods such as crushing, adding water, and stirring to gather a large number of Castor seeds together.
Then he used Refinement to obtain crystals of higher purity.
He had now obtained enough high-purity Ricin to kill several thousand people.
All that was missing was an opportunity for the pirates to gather together to eat and rest.
The soldier clearly understood his master's plan and immediately nodded. "Yes! Judging by the current scale, they've gathered a little over a hundred people already. In about forty minutes, the remaining pirates should arrive one after another. That also happens to be when the sun sets and night truly falls."
"In that case, let's add a little something to our guests' dinner."
With that, Raymond stood up and used Refinement on the cauldron.
In an instant!
A small handful of crystalline powder flew out of the cloudy liquid and landed precisely in a glass jar beside it.
Once he had finished, he carefully picked up the jar and led the way down the mountain toward the beach where the bonfire burned.
The summoned soldier and Leopard followed close behind.
About half an hour later, the two men and the leopard arrived near the beach and hid behind some bushes.
With only the last traces of sunset remaining, visibility in the surrounding area was extremely low.
But for Hobgoblins and Half-Orcs with darkvision, this was not much of a problem.
Even on the darkest night, these humanoids could clearly see everything within eighteen to twenty meters ahead of them.
Fortunately!
At the moment, those people were busy carrying wine and food down from the stranded ship.
Along with the pirates constantly returning from the jungle and joining them, the whole scene looked incredibly chaotic.
Raymond keenly noticed this and immediately instructed the soldier beside him, who had already changed into pirate clothing. "Now! Sneak in and add some Ricin to their stew pots, wine barrels, and fresh water. Remember, if anyone asks who you are, use the name Astaide."
"Understood!"
The soldier took the glass jar, hid it in his clothes, and casually headed toward the bonfire.
Whether it was because the human pirates were unfamiliar with monsters like Hobgoblins, Half-Orcs, and Trolls to begin with, or because they had exhausted too much energy trekking and searching through the dense forest during the day, they had no interest in paying attention to the companions moving around them.
In any case, the soldier did not arouse anyone's suspicion along the way and safely reached the area where the supplies were piled up.
Just as he was about to take the jar from his clothes and begin poisoning the food, the Half-Orc cooking nearby suddenly shouted, "Hey! Human brat! What are you doing?"
In an instant!
The soldier froze in the middle of reaching for something.
With his nerves stretched to the limit, his other hand instinctively pressed against the hilt of his scimitar. His mind raced with thoughts of how to kill the other man without alerting the rest of the pirates.
But the Half-Orc cook did not notice any of that. He strode over, snatched the jar full of Ricin crystals from the soldier's clothes, casually twisted it open, grabbed a pinch, and put it into his mouth for a taste.
A few seconds later, he bared his teeth in mockery. "Aha! A jar of valuable spices. You bastard, you actually dared to steal seasonings meant for everyone's cooking. You must be tired of living."
Spi... spices?
Seasonings?
The soldier, who had been ready to spring up and kill him just a moment ago, was completely dumbfounded.
He truly did not know how to describe the Half-Orc's stupidity or his unbelievably terrible sense of taste.
High-purity Ricin was a slightly bitter crystalline substance. No matter how one looked at it, it had nothing to do with spices or seasonings.
But what the cook did next left him even more dumbstruck.
The Half-Orc took the crystals of Ricin and scattered a handful into every pot of soup. Only after using it all up did he throw the empty glass jar to the ground and curse viciously, "Get lost! You filthy, lowly trash! If I catch you stealing again, even if it's just a cup of wine or a pinch of salt, I'll twist off your head and throw it into the pot to feed those Trolls. They've never been picky eaters anyway!"
"I... I'm sorry. I won't dare do it again."
Suppressing the urge to burst out laughing on the spot, the soldier hurriedly put on a panicked expression, turned around, and ran swiftly into the dark woods.
He was terrified that if he ran too slowly, the other man would see the expression on his face twisting from holding back laughter.
The Half-Orc cook, who believed he had done a good deed, spat in the direction of the soldier's escape. Then he proudly picked up his ladle and continued stirring the stew and seafood soup in the pots.
When the soldier returned to their hiding place and recounted everything exactly as it had happened, Raymond could barely hold himself together either.
Laughing, he remarked, "All right. Now we have good news and bad news. The good news is that the amount of toxin in those dishes and soups will be enough to bring down even the strongest Troll, even if boiling weakens its potency. The bad news is that if some pirates only drink wine and eat grilled fish, they won't be poisoned."
"What do we do next? Just wait here for the poison to take effect?" the soldier asked curiously.
"No! Of course not. Do you remember those zombies wandering at the foot of the mountain and halfway up the slope? It's time to make use of them. You and Reed wait here. I'm going to use this time to set up a small magical ritual."
With that, Raymond took out some bone powder, several black agates, and an eyeball containing nerve tissue soaked in preservative fluid from his satchel.
The materials alone made it obvious that this was a necromantic ritual.
After all, having studied under Astar for so long, necromancy was the school of magic he understood best and had mastered most proficiently.
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