Atelier II – Discovery
Now, the next task is to add salt or acid to the filtered, bottled liquid and heat it in a water bath. The goal here is to use magically created salt or acid and stabilize them through chemical reactions.
That’s right—whether it’s salt or acid, any substance created using skills and magic will dissipate once the infused magic is exhausted.
Well, if things conjured by magic could exist permanently, regardless of scale, that’d be no different from the work of the gods who created the world. So it’s only natural that they vanish when the magic runs out.
But here, I discovered a loophole around that!
It happened when Serai-san’s grandpa asked me to fix the leak in the shed. Climbing up to check the roof, I found an old, bent gutter hanging toward the shed wall—clearly directing rainwater inside.
But fixing it wasn’t simple. The gutter was cracked and badly degraded; even wrapping it with duct tape would only be a temporary fix. Then it hit me: Wait, this is PVC, right? So it contains salt. What if I add more salt and resin, then fuse it with a Fire Wand? So I tried it.
The gutter was already in terrible shape, and if this failed, I’d have to replace it anyway. Might as well take a chance—if my [Salt] skill could fix it, I wouldn’t have to trek to the hardware store.
But if the magic-infused salt later vanished and the gutter broke again, I’d look like an idiot. So I held back, kept it to myself, and occasionally checked the shed roof to monitor it. Even now, the repaired spot shows no issues.
Which means…
Even objects created with skills and magic won’t disappear if they undergo a chemical reaction and become a different substance.
Realizing this, my body trembled.
(Th-this is huge…!)
Yeah, this is seriously huge.
For example, say there’s a [Gold] skill that lets you create pure gold. Normally, it’d vanish when the magic runs out. But if you alloy it into, say, 18-karat gold (K18, not R18) before then, it’d stay permanently.
Not that I know if such a skill exists, or how much magic it’d take to produce heavy metals. But if I ever find it, I’ll definitely have the trio get it.
Then, they’d produce gold, and I’d melt and process it with the Fire Wand. Yeah, the dream of alchemy. Well, for now, it’s just pie in the sky—all I’ve really done is fix a gutter with skill-made salt.
…
Anyway, work on the all-purpose healing potion continues.
“Pipii!”
“Huh? Too salty, you say?”
Obviously, salt and acid are essential for preserving food.
Pickles, for instance, are either salt-pickled or vinegar-pickled. Since it was my first time, I made several batches with varying concentrations—but now the pixies are complaining the saltiness is too strong.
“Hmm, guess I’ll taste it myself. Let’s see…”
I dip my pinkie in the mixture and lick it. The super-giant aphid’s sweet bodily fluids mixed with salt create a flavor like bland noodle broth.
“Hmm… all-purpose healing potion that tastes like noodle broth. Not very fantasy-like…”
But maybe it’d work as a glaze for grilled mochi or mitarashi dango… As I ponder this, I notice the pixies growing bored with the work.
“Alright, it’s been a while. Let’s take a break.”
“““Pipii~!”””
I slice up grandpa’s large, ripe tomatoes into bite-sized pieces and drizzle them with honey.
“Here. Do what you want, but don’t wander too far, okay?”
“““Pipii~!”””
Fascinated by Japan’s nature, the pixies grab their honeyed tomatoes and fly off toward the fields.
“Heh, off they go, happy as ever. Well then, time to make those guys drink this noodle-broth-flavored all-purpose healing potion.”
Watching the pixies fly away, I head down the path toward the fields, looking for a secluded spot.