The Miracle of Stone Soup
A massive cauldron dominating the village center bubbled with clear steam. But inside, instead of human food, there was a huge rock. That's right. What they were boiling in the middle of the village wasn't food—it was just a rock.
"Ha... looks delicious."
"Stone soup, huh. Wonder what it tastes like?"
"I wish I could just have one bite!"
Everyone knew there was a rock in the cauldron. The northerners knew it, Ian knew it, Kira and Belenca knew it. But when Kira, now the exclusive ad model for Ian Company Ltd., slurped up the rock broth(?) with relish, the onlookers couldn't help but swallow hard.
Wow! That blissful expression! How good must it taste to make a face like that!
The innocent northerners had no clue that Kira's expression was 100% acting. Hell, even if a modern reincarnator among the northerners spotted it, they wouldn't have noticed. What sane person pours water over a plain rock, boils it, and insists it's "stone soup"?
When people hear something too absurd, their minds default to "Is that for real?" rather than "Lies." It's the same logic as how internet tales like "Revenge on my annoying sister-in-law with soda~" are obvious fiction from writing contests, but "Lost a fight with a jjamtaiger in the army~" feels plausibly true with real victims out there.
It's not blatant fraud—it's "They must really make soup from rocks~"
A bit guilty, huh.
But Ian's stone soup was... just a scam. No different from the old-timey snake oil salesmen's tricks.
The only difference between Ian and those hucksters? When the scam's exposed, victims won't hate him enough to want him dead.
To be blunt, [Project - Stone Soup] might flop. Then what? A little embarrassment, scout other options.
Ian was a mage anyway—people would just shrug: "Eh, mages are weirdos like that..."
Glancing around, Ian sensed the moment was ripe. Time to brew the real soup.
"Gunnar. You that desperate for some soup?"
Ian called out Gunnar's name. The guy, staring at the cauldron like his life depended on it, jumped and replied.
"Y-you're giving me some?!"
Wasn't it sacred food or something you couldn't share?
Ian tilted his head at the cauldron with a vague expression. "Well... strictly speaking, only those with heaven's permission should eat it... but technically, Gunnar, you helped with my journey, right?"
"Uh... y-yeah! I did!"
As Ian began to loosen his lips, Gunnar hung on every word like a man possessed. A mage's tongue was as slippery as a snake's.
"Looks like there's more food than I thought. Check out this cauldron—way too much for just the three of us, huh?"
He was talking to Gunnar, but loud enough for the whole village. Tossing out the bait.
The hyped-up villagers snapped it up like carp.
"Yeah! It does look like a lot!"
"How're three people gonna finish that?"
"Gotta share it! Obviously!"
All of them dying to shove stone soup in their own mouths. Exactly the reaction Ian wanted. Human greed—the root cause of every scam victim's downfall!
Ian bellowed at the cauldron: "Heavens above! May this young man share in your food?!"
"Flames, rise!"
⟨ Pyrokinesis ⟩
The villagers didn't even realize Kira had chanted in Maronius Language. They just thought it was simultaneous translation!
Whoosh! The mystery of fire exploded upward in response. Villagers startled back with yelps.
"Th-the heavens...!"
"It answered!"
Ian shouted: "The heavens say: offer fitting tribute, and the soup shall be shared!"
"Ooooh!"
"One who follows heaven's will! Gunnar! Fetch tribute for the skies!"
"Tr-tribute?"
Ian whispered: "Grab any spare food from home. Edible stuff. I'll offer it to heaven."
"Got it! Ian!"
Gunnar bolted off. Soon, he returned with some dried veggies.
"Dried radish... this okay?"
Ian crossed his arms. Hmm. Dried radish, huh. Adds a fresh kick to soup.
"Perfect. Hand it over."
Ian tossed the dried radish in. Then:
Having fun again, eh, Ian? Hehe, mind if I lend a hand?
A brilliant light flashed from the cauldron!
...Huh?
Ian blinked in confusion. This felt like that time brewing coffee...
"It accepted the tribute?!"
"Gunnar really believes, and heaven showed its light today!"
Something felt off, but the northerners had seen heaven's response with their own eyes. Good enough.
"Here, try it. Gotta be tasty now."
Ian ladled plain rock water (literally) for Gunnar. Heart pounding, Gunnar slurped a big spoonful.
"...!"
"Well?"
"Dunno... tastes like water?"
"Stone soup's all about the aftertaste. You swallow it all?"
"Yeah."
"Then you're tasting delicious right now."
"???"
Eh? This is... 'delicious'?
Gunnar wore the face of an isekai light novel protag tasting flavor for the first time. Gaslighting's scary stuff.
Truth be told, it was closer to "this crap" than "this." But as a devout heavenly faith follower, Gunnar couldn't badmouth it outright. Who complains about heaven-sent food?!
"C-come to think of it, it's kinda fresh and tasty..."
"Lemme try."
Ian sipped and said flatly: "Needs more simmer time."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Ingredients are rock, duh. Gotta boil long for flavor. By dinner, it'll be amazing."
Aha! Got it!
Gunnar was convinced. Tasteless water now (true), but dinner? Gourmet (false)!
Gunnar's lukewarm reaction didn't matter. What mattered: a villager had shared the soup.
"Um... I believe in heaven too. Can I have some?"
"Me too! I've prayed before!"
Hope spread: Maybe I can taste Ian's stone soup too! Villagers mobbed him, shouting.
But Ian replied coldly: "You all can't have any."
"Why not! I said I believe!"
"Stone soup's a special gift from heaven for my journey. Only those who've helped qualify."
"Ha! I got spare food at home! Donate to you, and I eat soup?"
"Whoa, donate to me? It's for heaven, folks?"
Ian poked and prodded. Anxious northerners dashed home, returning with food.
People spend when pissed. When the prize is right there but out of reach, they spend more aggressively.
Solemn vow to share stone soup: northerners donated their rations to Ian.
Ian dumped every bit into the soup—no exceptions.
"Meat? Too fancy..."
"Potatoes! Delicious, right? Dig in."
"Barley? Where'd you get this..."
"Aha! Fresh leather armor... wait, seriously? Offering this to heaven?"
Villagers watched every ingredient go in. No more "rock-flavored nonsense." Meat, veggies, salt... familiar flavors!
They smacked their lips. Stone soup was starting to look real tasty...!
Ian grinned at the savory aroma wafting up. Delicious.
├─ Tier 1:Basic rock broth ✓
└─ Tier 2:Eternal Stew — UNLOCKED ★
"Heh heh. What a sight."
Sky Harpoon tribe chief Helga chuckled in bewilderment at the rowdy village. From morning, some mage shows up babbling about rock soup? Suspicious. By afternoon? Actually brewing it—with a rock in the middle.
"He's really making stone soup."
Absurd. But not bad vibes.
Those who'd invested food in Ian's soup sat around the cauldron, turning it into a party while waiting.
"The one who knows no love~"
"Is a cruel soul~"
"Ahh~ So cruel~ So heartless~"
Red-haired mage Kira sang with a captivating voice. Ian's ploy to keep bored villagers from bailing.
Kira was a medieval entertainer who'd busked for meals pre-mage days. When a pro performer goes all-in on the fun, no one leaves the cauldron.
"Chief!"
Spotting Helga, villagers rushed over. "Offer food to heaven too!"
"Heaven?"
"Yeah! Then you get stone soup!"
Those who'd already dumped food recruited newbies like pros. More members, more fillings~!
Ring a bell? Human network marketing. Multi-level sales pyramid!
Old members drag in newbies to add food—more grub for all!
Hmm... could use more veggies...
Heaven wants veggies!
No clue when Ian became heaven, but he'd poke at soup flaws, and members(?) hustled veggie homes for marketing.
Exactly what they were pitching Helga.
Helga chuckled. Not curious about the taste. But villagers were thrilled—war pressures, hunt fails forgotten. All gathered, laughing, awaiting one dish.
"Guess I'll contribute."
"Meat! Chief, gimme meat!"
"Nah, meat's plenty! More veggies!"
"Barley's better?"
Villagers treated stone soup like feast fare now. Everyone stuffing "heaven tributes" in.
Chief Helga couldn't cheap out with a fistful of jerky. He donated a full basket of ham generously.
"Woo! Chief's the best!"
Ian grinned, welcoming him. "Thanks for the donation, Chief."
"Thought stone soup was nonsense at first... now it smells killer."
Helga ditched work, joined the party. With Kira performing and folks waiting, shut-ins peeked out: What's that? One by one, they joined.
And partying together? Just fun as hell.
Ian's stunt had morphed into a full village festival.
Eventually, whole village out—boozing, singing, awaiting soup completion. All donated, all qualified to taste.
"Gregory! Get out here and donate!"
"Why me?!"
Only Gregory, holed up at home, was miserable. Had everyone lost it?!
Heaven festival in a war crisis?! Shouldn't they be grimly brooding indoors?! Why so happy! Stop having fun!
"Ma! You abandoning our village?!"
"Hoarding again...!"
Gregory's popularity plummeted. Already low, but resisting group fun? Despised more. Hated guys stay hated.
Helga intervened personally. "Gregory! Cough up food!"
"Chief! You sane? Donating to heaven now?"
"Yup. Our tribe's always believed. No issue."
Gregory was floored. Since when so devout?!
"Tsk. More sausage would be perfect..."
"Heaven wants sausage!"
Now a village ritual (fake, but official). No escape for Gregory...
Tears swallowed, he yelled: "Filthy mage! Fine! Take it all!"
"For real? Thanks."
Ian led aunties to loot Gregory's pantry clean. Stone soup's depth intensified.
Sunset, chill winds: "Done!"
Ian declared completion. Villagers got ladlefuls in their bowls.
The taste? Beyond words—magnificent. Warm stew after rowdy fun? Perfection.
"Didn't expect this tasty..."
"What'd you expect?"
Ian sat with comrades, savoring stone stew.
"It's sacred. Thought it'd taste divine."
Gunnar grumbled. Ian laughed: "You know nothing. This is heaven's flavor."
Kira and Belenca nodded, smiling. Mage was right. Soup from a rock... tasted like pure magic.