Chapter 33
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: The Kabakshuz Feast
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In the heart of the city, a large hall had prepared an open kitchen for the finishing touches on the meal.
Dane opened his eyes and headed straight to the hall, supported by Bankers.
Having hunted the Kabakshuz, used his Regeneration ability repeatedly, and performed the deboning and portioning of over twenty meters of meat without a moment's rest, he was in a state of extreme meat anemia.
The human looked utterly drained, a far cry from his initial proud demeanor.
The dwarves watched him in hushed silence.
These were the people who had been prepared to abandon their homes, even considering war. A monster that no army could subdue had been felled by a single human.
Who could have imagined it? The king of hunters, the savior who had come to their kingdom. And yet here he was, so frail and powerless.
As they watched him make his way silently to the table, the dwarves shed tears.
“All set.”
River helped Dane into his seat and spoke.
[‘Kabakshuz’ conveyor salt and seasoning half-and-half grill, adapted from a freshwater eel recipe]
“This one’s yours.”
She pointed to the tail.
The single large piece had been grilled half with salt and half with seasoning. The salt-grilled side gleamed with golden sear on its white flesh. The seasoning-grilled side was moist with a brown sauce made from a long-simmered meat stew, looking utterly mouthwatering.
Dane’s feeble knife sliced effortlessly through the salt-crusted section, carving off a piece.
The sight of the thick meat cutting cleanly was mesmerizing. Just before Dane brought it to his mouth, River delicately placed a few thin strips of ginger on top.
Dane chewed the meat in silence.
“!!!!!”
A soft yet chewy texture. Nutty, rich juices and fats mingled with the sharp bite of ginger, dancing across his palate.
His jaw worked faster to match the springy bite. It went down his throat before he realized he’d chewed. The thick, intense aftertaste lingered, demanding the next piece.
The reason Dane had claimed the tail as his own was that it was the most radiant cut of the Kabakshuz.
The shining part of a massive monster, tasted for the first time.
Its power was overwhelming. Energy surged through his depleted body like an explosion.
‘So this is a large monster!’
They said eels were stamina food. The Kabakshuz looked similar, and its flavor and invigorating power were equally extraordinary.
Riding the momentum, he reached for the seasoning-grilled side.
He stuffed a large bite of the meat, lightly caramelized to a beautiful sheen. Subtle smokiness gave way to sweet-saltiness and oily richness, laced with a hidden spiciness that hit hard.
“I mixed in a little chili juice.”
River slipped in the explanation as Dane’s eyes widened in surprise.
Such delicate consideration, balancing the array of flavors!
Vigor returned to his chewing and swallowing. Vitality bloomed in his eyes and skin. It was visible to all.
No wonder the onlookers were stunned.
In the short time they watched, half the tail—both salt and seasoning sides—vanished into Dane.
‘He ate more meat than his own body weight, all by himself!’
They all thought the same. Impressive as the feat was, could mere food transform someone so completely?
The energy radiating from him was incredible. Dane, already imposing, now looked like a giant.
It was like magic. The unbelievable kept unfolding without end.
With his strength fully restored, Dane could no longer contain his surging power. He threw his chest out and bellowed.
“It’s delicioooooous!!!!!!”
His roar of joy echoed thunderously through the vast hall.
* * *
A single chunk of Kabakshuz weighed roughly 300 to 400 kilograms. Dane had eaten half the tail, but ten chunks still remained.
Even divided into individual servings, it was enough to feed over ten thousand people—an immense quantity.
Dane sliced it up swiftly, and the dwarves divided it orderly. With so much meat and so many dwarves, they enlisted the aid of machinery.
As the cut meat passed along the conveyor, dwarves plated portions for their meals. It resembled a conveyor-belt sushi restaurant.
“Too delicious.”
“This is monster meat, right?”
“Kabakshuz! A large monster!”
For people whose staples had been root crops and Harac moles, monster meat was a first taste of true delicacy.
Dane’s belief that big game tasted great resonated with them too.
No feast with delicious meat could go without alcohol. It was a celebration.
The dwarves ate and drank at length, praising their guests from the continent and openly expressing their hopes for a new future.
Even Prime Minister Grad joined in.
He had worried about the kingdom’s future more than anyone. It wasn’t mere lust for power but genuine loyalty and a sense of duty that had driven him to advocate for war.
Now his arguments had lost all persuasiveness, leaving him no choice but to heed Dane’s words.
He acknowledged the man, yet feared him too.
What if they made an enemy of Dane, with his monstrous power? The thought that they couldn’t afford to spurn his goodwill took deep root in his mind.
Still, with the knot of anxiety untied, joy was inevitable. Sharing a rare smile with Tuparak, he spoke first to Dane.
“You’ve proven your demands beyond our wildest expectations. I admit my mistake. I apologize for the misunderstanding.”
True to dwarven nature, he bared his honest heart. The delegation smiled brightly and accepted the apology.
“Now we have no choice but to believe you. About Yadus Ore being like the World Tree to other races—will you tell us now?”
Tuparak asked.
The dwarves, their hearts softened, focused their attention on Dane to hear him out.
Even as vital discussions on the kingdom’s future unfolded, no one was sent from the hall.
It was their way of showing transparency to the citizens.
Dane was deeply moved by the dwarves’ frank disposition and Harac Bar’s governance.
He ascended the stairs, meeting the eyes of the crowd, and voiced the thoughts he’d long held.
“Before Yadus Ore, I should first speak of the food you’ve just eaten.”
Unlike before, his tone was polite, laced with respect.
“Not only the people of Harac Bar but all races across the continent have avoided monster meat. It’s delicious fare like this, yet there was a reason it went uneaten.”
“What is it?!”
“Some special trick?”
Dwarves couldn’t hold back questions the moment he began. Their attire marked them as chefs—they’d tried and concluded monster meat inedible. Dane understood their feelings.
“The method was wrong. A lack of understanding about the meat. With proper butchery, deboning, and portioning, monster meat becomes excellent food. And this applies equally to all races on the continent, not just you.”
“But elves don’t eat meat?”
The youngest of the four twins, Nedval, spoke up.
Laughter erupted from all around at what struck them as funny. Nedval shrugged, pleased.
“Exactly. You have no aversion to meat, yet even you shunned it. For other races, eating meat itself is difficult. Under elven rule, it was forbidden. Races under the World Tree’s protection had no choice but to obey.”
World Tree. Meat-avoiding elves. Inedible monster meat.
Dane’s words remained an enigma.
“But... what does that have to do with Yadus Ore?”
Grad asked, furrowing his brow.
“Even if races learn they can eat monster meat, mastering butchery and deboning takes time. But create the right environment and facilities to store properly butchered meat, and it changes everything. Yadus Ore makes that possible.”
“Hm... We know Yadus Ore’s chill aids food preservation. Even if it enables eating monster meat as you say, how can it equal the World Tree?”
Tuparak voiced the dwarves’ shared doubt.
“As the World Tree’s influence wanes, root village folk will first sense the survival threat. But most will choose migration to the roots’ heart, near the World Tree, for elven protection—over fighting monsters.”
He paused, giving the dwarves time to think.
As he anticipated, some began piecing it together. Uralen was one.
“Some will choose to fight. If they learn they can hunt and eat monsters.”
“Precisely. Your nearest neighbors, the Leighton villagers, did just that.”
In response to Uralen, Dane let out a long whistle.
Moments later, the Leighton eagle from the carriage flew in and perched on Dane’s shoulder.
The dwarves understood the eagle’s significance. Villages didn’t lightly entrust their symbolic spirit beast to outsiders. It meant Dane’s will was Leighton’s will.
“Just as Leighton villagers hunt monsters to eat, the world will surely change. Yadus Ore is essential for that. It’s Harac Bar’s path outward.”
“Trade with Yadus Ore?”
Tuparak asked.
Dane met her gaze steadily before answering.
“When the perception shifts—that monsters aren’t to be avoided but edible food—the doors will open. We’ll handle the brokering.”
* * *
The kingdom council, led by Tuparak and Grad, swiftly accepted Dane’s proposal.
They had no reason to refuse.
With the Kabakshuz gone, immediate safety was secured to some degree, and expanding their activity zone safely via trade was compelling.
“So, what must we do, and how?”
Grad asked, reaffirming his trust. Dane outlined the long-term plan.
“It all starts with Yadus Ore.”
Tuparak fully embraced Yadus Ore as the plan’s core. At the king’s command, the dwarves moved quickly.
Reactivating the Yadus mines came first.
Mine cart rails halted by the Kabakshuz were refurbished, and droves of dwarves deployed to the mines.
Mined Yadus Ore piled up rapidly in the capital.
“First, Harac Bar needs a space for monster meat portioning and deboning.”
As Dane insisted, construction began on the ‘Yadus Monster Butchery,’ walled entirely in Yadus Ore.
Like a massive freezer, the facility would be immune to Harac Bar’s warm air.
True to form, they built it on a grand scale.
Anticipating large monsters like the Kabakshuz, they planned conveyor belts and mini cranes for monster meat—all in Yadus Ore—from the outset.
It would take time.
While the butchery took shape, Dane requested a private audience with Tuparak.
Alone in the king’s chamber, he voiced his lingering question.
“You haven’t asked about Pohen.”
“Your very presence tells me he’s well. That’s enough.”
Tuparak spoke without regret. Truth be told, Dane’s interest lay elsewhere.
“When I met Pohen, I heard the king had ventured to the continent for exploration.”
“Indeed. For reasons much like these. It was when unease about the kingdom’s survival first took root.”
A red glint flashed in Dane’s eyes.
“What connection does the kingdom’s survival have to Mekel Mountain?”
He asked.