The Frontier Feast: A Kitchen That Enchants Monsters and Adventurers Alike - The Werewolf Tribe, Destruction, and Grilled Rice Balls

In front of the signboard, Merieur Shion let out a heavy sigh. This morning, he'd written "Shion's Diner" in mud with all his strength. By today, the five characters had completely dried and hardened, now resembling a pattern of three snakes coiled on a rock. A passing villager had stopped, tilted their head, and left without saying a word. Zero customers. Nearly zero food supplies. His wallet contents approaching zero as well. (At least three stray dogs came yesterday.) Calling that "a successful opening day" was pushing it. But when those three dogs had licked the empty bowls clean and looked up at him—that was definitely the look of "give me more." Even dogs found it delicious. Humans should too. Clinging to this baseless optimism, Shion crossed his arms and looked up at the sky. Mirva Village's mornings were tinged with gray. Low-hanging clouds, characteristic of a frontier village nestled at the foot of the Crevasse Mountains. The sweetness in the air was there again today—Shion had already come to understand it was due to the magical essence drifting through the atmosphere. In this world, ethereal particles called magical essence floated thinly through the air, and they transformed certain creatures into monsters. Last night, distant howls had echoed from Nocturn Forest. More than one. It was while he was thinking such things. Something came rolling from the direction of the village entrance. Rolling, not as a figure of speech. Literally rolling. A human body tumbled across the stone-paved road, rolling and rolling until finally coming to a stop right in front of Shion's diner. "…" Shion froze for about two seconds. Lying on the ground was a young man. Long silver hair tied back, now matted to the earth with blood and mud. Golden eyes gazed up at Shion hazily—looking closer, they had vertical slits. Not human. Gray-furred wolf ears lay flat atop his head, and a tail of the same color hung limply from behind his waist. His entire body was covered in blood and dirt. A deep gash on his right arm. Claw marks raking across his side. His clothes were torn in multiple places. "…Got any food?" That was his first words. "I do. But you need treatment first." "Food comes before treatment. Haven't eaten in three days." "Three days?" Shion couldn't help but ask back. The man nodded weakly. His complexion was terrible. He was practically collapsing. "Been fighting a pack of magical essence wolves. Ran into them in Nocturn Forest, fought while running, made it here." Magical essence wolves—ordinary wolves that had transformed into monsters by absorbing excessive magical essence from the air. They were about twice the size of normal wolves, and since their claws and fangs carried magical essence, wounds didn't heal easily. Shion had heard from Mutts that their frequency around Mirva Village had increased since the magical essence anomaly ten years ago. Fighting those for three days straight? "…Let's get you inside first. Can you stand?" "I can stand." The man said so and unsteadily got to his feet. He actually managed it. Though he couldn't walk straight, he made his way into the diner by leaning against the wall and waddling. Shion hurried to the back of the abandoned building and pulled out some cloth. Since he had nothing suitable for bandages, he had no choice but to tear up old linen and improvise. "Show me your wounds." "Please. I'm at my limit too." The man sat in a chair. Shion took the makeshift bandage cloth to his right arm. His skills as a cook were genuine, but he'd never learned how to wrap bandages. He had a vague memory of looking up how to wrap bandages online once or twice, but he'd never actually done it. "Like this…and hold it here…" He wrapped it. It came undone. He wrapped it again. This time he tied it firmly. Too firmly. "…Can't move my arm." "Wrapped it too tight. Let me redo it." He unwrapped it. Wrapped it again. While wrapping, he tried to hold the end and his hand slipped, unraveling it. Frustrated, he wrapped it again. This time he tied it carefully. Then, just to be safe, he wrapped over it again. Just to be safe, he wrapped around once more. With the feeling of just to be safe, he wrapped around one more time. "…" Garon was staring at his right arm. The arm wrapped in cloth like a mummy. Only his fingertips were barely visible, but from the elbow down was completely mummified. "…My joint is fixed." "Necessary treatment." "Can't move it. Not at all." "That's the point. Rest it." "So I'm basically a mummy?" "Shut up. Don't ask a cook to wrap bandages." "You're talking back!?" The man tried to laugh, but the laugh aggravated his side wound and he groaned "—ugh." Shion hurried over saying "calm down, calm down" and patted his back, but apparently that was also wounded because he groaned even more. When Shion said "sorry!" and tried to pat him again, he stopped himself. After a while, Garon said quietly, "Don't laugh…" Though he probably meant "don't make me laugh." Anyway, Shion had done what he could for treatment. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. Shion stood up and headed to the kitchen. Food supplies were scarce. Yesterday he'd spent a few copper coins at Mutts' general store on scraps of chicken meat. He'd rubbed salt into it yesterday and slow-smoked it over wood fire—instant smoked meat. He had some dried vegetables. He had oil. This would have to work. He poured oil into a frying pan and set it over the fire. He chopped the dried vegetables and tossed them in. With a sizzle, an aroma rose up. "…What's that smell?" Garon, still sitting in the chair, spoke while his nose twitched. His wolf ears perked up slightly. "Stir-fry. I'm stir-frying vegetables in oil." "…Stir-fry? Isn't that the same as grilling?" "It's different. You use oil and high heat to cook quickly. It brings out the vegetables' natural sweetness." Garon fell silent for a moment. But Shion's hands didn't stop. He added a pinch of salt to the stir-fry. He sliced the smoked meat thin and arranged it on a plate. The aroma of smoked meat and stir-fry mingled and spread through the diner. He set the plate in front of Garon. Garon stared at the plate for a moment. His golden, vertically-slit eyes narrowed. His nose twitched. Then— Ping!!!! His wolf ears shot straight up with force. At the same time, the tail that had been hanging limply behind him began swinging violently left and right. The sound of it slapping the air beside the chair was so intense it was audible—flap flap flap flap flap!!!! Garon himself sat there with a blank expression, staring at the plate. "…What is this?" His voice was dazed. He hadn't eaten yet. Just the smell had left him dazed. Shion stood at a distance, observing. (Well, that's the reaction you'd expect.) The cooking methods in this world were only "grilling" and "boiling." In a frontier place like Mirva Village, even salt was a luxury item, and spices couldn't be obtained without going to the cities. Smoking as a cooking method, stir-frying as a cooking method—neither existed in this world. That was confirmed when Mutts had said "stir-fry? What language is that?" So the complex aroma Garon was smelling now was probably a combination no one in this world had ever experienced. Garon put a piece of smoked meat in his mouth. His expression froze. Then—a faint light appeared in his eyes. A single tear rolled down his cheek. The next moment, he plunged his face into the plate. He started eating voraciously. His mummified right arm had a fixed joint, so he held the plate with his left hand alone while eating at an incredible speed. His tail was still flapping. His ears stayed perked up. Shion observed his ears and tail from a distance. (…He's honest, isn't he?) The plate was empty in no time. Garon licked it clean, then slowly lifted his face. "…What have I been eating all this time?" He spoke in a dazed voice. "Dried meat and hard bread?" "Pretty much that. And boiled vegetables. Thin broth. I thought that was normal." "In this world, that probably is normal. Stir-frying, smoking, frying, steaming—this continent doesn't have those cooking methods." "Frying? Steaming?" Garon frowned. "Never heard those words. What are they?" "Frying is putting food in a large amount of oil and cooking it. Steaming is cooking with water vapor. Both are delicious." "A large amount of oil? Isn't that wasteful?" "The oil can be reused after frying, so it's fine." Garon stared at Shion for a while. His golden, vertically-slit eyes observed him as if looking at something rare. "…Where are you from?" "A distant place." "Helda City? Further?" "Further. Don't worry about it." Garon thought for a moment, then nodded. "I'm Ruve Garon. Iron-rank adventurer." The Watari Iron Alliance—an organization where adventurers took requests and earned rewards—registered adventurers in five ranks from Iron to Platinum, showing their strength. Iron was the lowest tier. That was where Garon currently stood. "Merieur Shion. Running a diner here." "Shion, huh. …I'm becoming the first regular customer of this shop." It was a powerful declaration. "Thank you. What about payment?" "…" Silence. "I don't have any." "Huh?" "Used it all up on supplies for three days. Not a single coin." Shion put his hand to his forehead. "…Then you'll work. Washing dishes is fine." "You got it! Leave it to me!" Garon stood up happily. He grabbed the plates stacked in the corner of the diner—the few dishes they had—with both hands and headed to the washing basin. He plunged them into water and started scrubbing with force. Crack. "…" "Did it break?" "Just chipped a bit." "Next one, gently." "Got it, gently." Splash splash. Crack! "Did it break?" "Broke in half." "Next—" Crash!!!!! "All gone." "…Split some firewood for me." Shion decided to try a different approach. Garon took the axe and headed to the back yard. He placed the wood on a block. He raised the axe with a determined expression. Thud!!!!!!! The wood was pulverized. Instead of split wood, there was a mountain of wood fragments and sawdust. "…Maybe a bit less force." "Got it, less force." Boom!!!! It was pulverized again. This time the block itself split. "The block broke too." "I saw!!" "What if I move the table? That doesn't need force control, right?" "Fair point." Garon lifted the diner's table. Trying to angle it through the space between walls, he misjudged. The table's edge hit the stone wall directly. Crash!!!!!!!!!! A hole opened in the wall. About thirty centimeters in diameter. You could see through to the other side. "…" "There's a hole." "I saw!! I definitely saw!!" Total damage: three plates completely destroyed, one bundle of firewood turned to sawdust, one hole in the wall. Shion said in an exhausted voice, "…That's enough to cover today's meal." Seeing Garon's genuinely happy face as he said "Did I really help that much!!", Shion could only laugh. ＊　　＊　　＊ The commotion apparently reached outside. The combination of smoked meat aroma and the sound of destruction—gagon gagon—seemed to gradually stimulate the villagers' curiosity. Several people were peeking in from the street. Five or six villagers had opened the door just enough to stick their heads in, looking around nervously. They were cautious. Hesitant to enter a stranger's shop. But they couldn't resist the smell. Shion thought for a moment, then brought out rice. Rice in this world was used almost exclusively for making porridge or mixing with wheat. It was recognized as a grain for those purposes. Shion cooked the rice, shaped it with salt in his hands. Round, firm, formed into triangles with both hands. He placed them directly on a net over the fire and gave them a sear. Grilled rice balls. He made enough for

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Episode 2

Name: The Frontier Feast: A Kitchen That Enchants Monsters and Adventurers Alike
Author: Novelia

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