The Exploding Stone Plate
“This is limestone, isn’t it?”
“What’s limestone?”
“A kind of rock.”
“You know the name but didn’t know it explodes when you heat it?”
“……”
Patrick could only pout at Ben’s pointed remark.
“Get up, quickly. At least no one got hurt.”
“I can’t.”
“What?”
“My legs gave out.”
“……You really are something else……”
Though Ben looked at him with utter exasperation, the small boy still offered his shoulder and helped Patrick up.
“More importantly, what about the duck meat?”
“The village chief already cleaned it all for us.”
“Then let’s try stone-plate grilling again!”
“You’re saying that after the chaos we just went through?”
“Everyone makes mistakes while learning.”
“The problem is that you make far too many mistakes, Teacher.”
“I didn’t know the stone would explode. Besides, the villagers grill things on stone plates all the time, don’t they?”
“Those are stones that have been properly dried in the sun. They’re meant for that purpose from the start.”
“They are?”
The children who had fled earlier crept back toward Patrick, each carrying a wide, flat stone.
“This one probably won’t explode.”
“You kids……!”
Ben clutched his head in despair at the sight of his friends, already thoroughly corrupted by Patrick. Still, once Patrick regained his energy with the new supporters, Ben had no choice but to join in, swallowing hard as the group began preparing to grill meat on the stone plates.
“Go pick some lettuce. Pull up a couple of onions too.”
“Yes! Should I bring some herbs as well?”
“Good idea. Ah! And grab plenty of wild chives while you’re at it.”
“What are wild chives?”
“Those thin, long leaves I planted under the cherry tree. Don’t just take the leaves—pull them up by the roots.”
“Got it!”
Chili peppers and garlic, the two pillars of K-seasoning, were still impossible to obtain. However, Patrick had discovered wild chives growing nearby while roaming the mountain and had carefully transplanted them into a corner of the garden.
‘It’ll have to do as a substitute for garlic.’
After marinating the duck meat in a sauce mixed with a little fish sauce, sugar, and salt, Patrick began preparing the vegetables the children brought from the garden. He washed the lettuce and wild chives thoroughly, then set the herbs and onions aside to be mixed with the meat later.
Chiiiii—
The meat finally went onto the stone plate. The pleasant sizzling sound and the mouthwatering aroma of cooking protein spread through the air. The children’s throats bobbed nonstop.
Meat was always right. Especially meat eaten outdoors—it was practically a universal truth.
“It’s done! Careful, it’s hot.”
“Whoa!”
As the children stuffed meat into their mouths like they were competing, Patrick’s self-esteem swelled along with their cheeks.
“When do we take that out?”
“The chicken soup needs a bit more time.”
The single chicken the generous village chief had given them went into the pot. Patrick planned to simmer it with mushrooms and various medicinal herbs for a nourishing broth.
‘Fried chicken is out of the question. Think of how much oil that would take.’
He had already collected enough oil from previous frying experiments to make soap, so he couldn’t afford to waste any more.
“The soup smells like medicine……”
“It’s better than most medicine. Eat plenty if you want to stay healthy through the summer.”
Fortunately, the children ate the soup without complaint.
‘I really need to get my hands on some rice soon.’
While the children lay sprawled on the wooden platform, patting their round bellies, Patrick clicked his tongue in regret. The perfect way to finish duck roast was with fried rice, and the soup would have been even better turned into a thick porridge.
“Such a shame……”
“What is?”
“Just something. Ah, right—Ben. When you go home later, tell your father to grind some of that limestone into powder and sprinkle it on the vineyard.”
“You mean the stone that exploded earlier? Why would we spread that powder on the field?”
“It’ll make the grapes sweeter.”
“Really?”
Ben’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“It’s best to do it in autumn or winter after the harvest, but even now it should still have some effect.”
When the stone plate exploded and covered him in powder, Patrick had finally realized the rock he’d picked up from the beach was limestone. In that dazed moment, he remembered something Ben’s father had said.
— Thanks to you, Teacher, our liquor is selling so well. I suppose I’ll have to start buying grapes from this year onward.
— Don’t you grow your own grapes?
— We do, but there’s a bigger problem.
— A problem?
— Yes. The grapes we’re growing seem to be losing their sweetness every year.
— Does lower sweetness make it harder to brew liquor?
— Sweeter grapes produce stronger liquor with better flavor balance. But these past few years, the grapes just haven’t been turning out well. A lot of the leaves are turning yellow too……
This was a serious issue for Patrick as well.
‘My money!’
For now, people chose Dunbrook Brewery’s liquor because “every drink helps the children.” The contract with the lord’s castle guaranteed safety for a while, but there was no guarantee it would last until next year.
‘Marketing always works that way. No matter how novel or exciting something is at first, people eventually lose interest.’
‘So in the end, it all comes down to taste……’
Yet discovering a problem and solving it were two entirely different matters. Patrick, who only wanted to live as an ordinary person, had no farming experience to offer advice. However, the explosion that dusted him with limestone powder had given him the answer.
‘Limestone powder!’
He remembered hearing that mixing limestone powder into acidic soil could revive it. Not only that—it supposedly increased sweetness and strengthened the vines. Who had said that? A master grape grower on YouTube.
‘Thank you, Master!’
It was a good thing he watched YouTube with every meal. The memory hadn’t come to him right away, but once the floodgates opened, everything followed in a steady stream.
“All that’s written in books too?”
“Something like that.”
“Ooh—”
The children’s admiring gazes were a bonus.
***
Only a few days after Patrick gave advice about limestone powder, the villagers who grew fruit trees rolled up their sleeves. As a bonus, a pile of fine limestone powder was delivered to him as well.
— I remembered that you grow quite a few fruit trees yourself, Teacher. Heh-heh.
Patrick couldn’t hide his joy at obtaining limestone powder without lifting a finger.
“Now I can start practicing.”
Limestone powder had another use. It was an essential ingredient for practicing several spells.
‘About three of them, I think.’
He couldn’t try everything, but at least three spells were now within reach.
“The first one should obviously be this.”
Patrick flipped through the spellbook Robin had written, his philtrum stretching as he grinned wickedly. After mixing various herbs with the limestone powder and spreading it in a long line across the ground, he clasped his hands together and focused.
‘Please work…… Just once, seriously!’
A bright light gathered at his fingertips and began to travel along the powder, attempting to manifest a new spell.
Poof!
“Ptooey!”
Of course, mastering a new spell wasn’t that easy. The moment his concentration wavered, the herb-mixed limestone powder scattered in every direction.
“I’ll just try again.”
Though Patrick’s patience was thinner than a goldfish’s, this time was different. He brushed himself off as if he had expected this level of failure and began mixing the herbs and limestone powder once more. If Ben had seen him, he would have shouted, “Get out of our teacher’s body right now, you evil spirit!”
“Focus. Hup!”
Poof! Pop! Poof— Poof!
The practice that began after breakfast continued past lunch and well into the evening, yet he never succeeded even once. Limestone powder piled softly on Patrick’s head, and the scent of herbs clung to his entire body.
“Tsk. I’ve already used up most of it.”
The sack that had once been full now held only a handful. The dried herbs were completely gone too. If he failed this time, he wouldn’t be able to practice again for weeks until he gathered more materials.
“Still, you never know. The protagonist always succeeds in the end!”
Treating this as his final attempt, Patrick sprinkled the powder on the ground with extra care and channeled his mana.
‘……Huh?’
This time, something felt different. He could finally sense the movement of mana seeping into the powder.
“I did it!”
Patrick clenched his fists without realizing it. Then—
Poof!
The powder scattered into the air once again.
“……Life, seriously……”
Wasn’t it supposed to be a rule that the protagonist succeeds at the very end?
“Haaah—”
Cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck—!
A chicken wandered around the dejected Patrick, who had collapsed onto the ground, completely oblivious to the mood.
“No, is this really that hard? Is it?!”
Dig!
Thud!
Patrick irritably thrust out his hand and released mana. The ground sank about half a foot deep.
“……Huh?”
It worked. A truly hollow, empty success.
***
“I’m a human tractor now! Dig! Dig! Dig!”
From the crack of dawn the next day, Patrick wandered between the furrows, cackling like a madman and spamming the spell.
“You damn weeds, say goodbye! I’ll bury you all! Dig!”
He had spent the entire previous day practicing magic in chaos for this very moment. If he couldn’t make herbicide, he could just learn a new spell instead.
‘Even if the power is pathetic, it’s perfect for me.’
This was why Patrick had sent Robin all kinds of ingredients without holding back. Robin knew countless miscellaneous spells that ordinary mages would dismiss as weak and useless. To Patrick, however, they were priceless.
‘Take Dig, for example.’
The spell could barely dig two feet at most, so it seemed worthless at first glance—but how convenient was it for pulling weeds or harvesting potatoes? Today felt like Liberation Day for Patrick, who could finally end the endless war against the ever-growing weeds.
“I have to finish everything before the rainy season hits.”
With the single-minded determination to master this spell before the rains came, Patrick kept moving.
“Dig, Di……g……”
Whoosh—
Thud.
His head spun, darkness crept into his vision, and he collapsed face-first between the potato plants. His mana was completely depleted.
Cluck-cluck-cluck—
A chicken climbed onto the fallen Patrick and began preening its feathers. It found its master’s stomach quite comfortable.