Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: Frostland Natives (3)
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"Hmm? What's this?"
While reviewing administrative documents as usual, a clerk bursts in with an urgent expression and hands over a letter.
"I-It's an urgent dispatch! Fr-From the Imperial Palace and the Church—they said to deliver it right away—"
I take the letter, tear open the seal, and begin reading the contents.
"Let's see... Due to a sudden surge in northern trade demand, they urgently request an increase in production of the Imperial Safe Mark-certified 'Ivory Miracle' mayonnaise... The Papal Court also needs additional stock for relief supplies to the northern dioceses..."
Even after finishing the letter, I can't help but tilt my head in confusion.
Northern trade demand? The giants, you mean? No way they're trading with frost trolls.
Not long ago, I'd heard a report that we'd sent some mayonnaise as a thank-you gift after subjugating the frost dragon.
Rumors said they were amazed by the taste, but for both the palace and the church to simultaneously flood us with production increase requests? Those rugged northern warriors going crazy over a bit of white cream?
"What in the world is happening up north..."
A explosive reaction from a completely unexpected direction, nothing like the tomato sauce or arrabbiata craze.
I stare blankly out the window at the clear blue sky, utterly baffled.
.
.
.
Regardless of the young lord's bewilderment, beyond the Gray Mountains in the giants' lands, things were literally boiling over.
The winds of change began with the two jars of mayonnaise that Frost-Tooth Sten, the hero of the frost dragon subjugation, brought back to his clan.
"Is this what the southern humans eat?!"
"It's oily! So smooth! I've never tasted fat like this in my life!"
The creamy ivory treat that Sten shared with his kin instantly captivated their primal taste buds, starved for high-calorie fats in the freezing cold.
Their tongues, accustomed to the sour, coarse skyr made from fermented goat milk, crumbled helplessly before the overwhelming creaminess and rich nuttiness of the mayonnaise.
The two jars Sten brought vanished in an instant, but rumors of its flavor snowballed, spreading throughout the entire clan.
Soon after, when the mayonnaise gifted from the Empire arrived, the giants' tables began transforming into something entirely new.
"Oh, ooh! So this is the mayonnaise!"
Their food culture had always favored greasy, high-calorie dishes to survive the harsh winters.
Dried reindeer jerky, oil-smeared roasted tundra boar, salt-cured salmon roe, and thick stews simmered with root vegetables formed their staples.
They used to pair these with sour skyr or melted animal fat, but the arrival of mayonnaise changed everything.
"This... puts it in the stew, and the flavor's totally different?"
"Ooh! A hundred times nuttier than boar fat! And not heavy at all!"
The giants stirred generous heaps of mayonnaise into their hot root vegetable stews, just like borscht with sour cream.
The rough, rugged broth turned surprisingly smooth and deeply flavorful.
The emulsified fats in the mayonnaise enveloped every ingredient, adding a profound nuttiness and umami they'd never experienced before.
"Try smearing it on the dried meat! No chewiness at all!"
"With the salmon roe, the fishiness vanishes, leaving only the nuttiness!"
The tough jerky became moist and tender upon meeting the mayonnaise, while the salty, fishy salmon roe was neutralized by its richness, enhancing the overall flavor instead.
Nearly every food they ate—smoked wyvern breast, boiled potatoes, even coarse rye bread.
All of it paired with mayonnaise delivered incomparable taste and satisfaction.
Above all, what drove the giants wild was the mayonnaise's overwhelming calories, luxurious flavor, and texture.
"Grrrh...! What is this nuttiness?!"
"The best fat I've ever tasted! It melts on the tongue!"
"All the hardened animal grease we've eaten until now was just scraps!"
The clan's women were especially enamored with this ivory miracle.
Pregnant women said morning sickness eased and energy surged after eating it, while nursing mothers whispered that their milk became richer and more abundant.
"Couldn't stomach the fishy stuff with the nausea! What was it called again?"
"Feed it to the kids, and their bones'll grow thick and strong!"
"Somehow, after mayonnaise, breastfeeding feels effortless?"
Elders who struggled with tough dried meat or fibrous roots teared up at how smoothly mayonnaise-mixed foods went down.
"These old teeth couldn't handle jerky—it was just a dream. But slather this on, and I chew like a kid again. Luxury like this is new in my life."
"Heh heh, thought taste dies with age, but this explodes on the tip of my tongue!"
"Not just soft! This is the real deal! Richer than reindeer marrow fat, without a hint of that rancid oil smell!"
Regardless of status, mayonnaise spread like wildfire through giant society, evolving from mere food into a symbol of the clan's health and future.
Warriors hung small mayonnaise jars beside their waterskins on hunts, children wailed at dinner if it was missing, and at festivals, a jar was awarded to the bravest warrior—a prize more treasured than a wyvern heart.
This frenzy had a reason.
The ravenous demand for this beloved mayonnaise inevitably led to shortages.
The first shipment from the Empire as a gift and the second traded for frost dragon rewards vanished before the giants' massive stomachs and endless appetites.
"N-No more?"
"Didn't they say tomorrow?!"
"Can't eat without it—feels like thorns in my throat. Meat won't go down!"
Tables without mayonnaise felt poorer and more miserable than before.
Their tongues, now tamed by the 'Ivory Miracle,' rejected the old coarse skyr and rancid fats.
In mere weeks, mayonnaise had transcended survival rations to become the essence of giant life.
"Hrmmm..."
Frost-Mane Wolfgar, king of the Frost-Mane wolves, stroked his thick beard while gazing at an empty mayonnaise jar. Complex emotions swirled in his eyes.
The Empire's emperor... using this taste to tame us as a weapon. Makes sense—irresistible flavor plus real benefits.
He saw through the emperor's intent. Mayonnaise was no mere food.
But Wolfgar felt no anger. Instead, his shrewd eyes gleamed.
Fine. But not for free.
He resolved to turn the situation to his advantage.
This miraculous cream was also an opportunity for his clan's survival and prosperity.
If children grew stronger, elders regained vigor, and warriors gained power, there was no reason not to dance to the Empire's tune.
With that, the white-haired giant king summoned his right-hand man.
"Sten!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
The king fixed his subordinate with a piercing gaze.
"The Empire won't give this away for free. They want trade."
"Trade, sire?"
"Yes. We'll buy this Ivory Miracle. And with our strength, we'll claim it rightfully!"
Wolfgar rose and roared.
"I command the entire clan! From this day, I declare the Great Mayonnaise Hunt!"
The Great Mayonnaise Hunt.
This proclamation, etched forever in giant history, shook the frozen north beyond the Gray Mountains.
Until now, giants hunted and gathered only for survival, but things had changed.
If it paid... for the clan's revival, for that ivory miracle, there was no reason not to exterminate them.
"Wyverns! Their hides and magic stones mean one jar of mayonnaise!"
"West mountains! Found an iron vein under the eternal snow!"
"These herbs fetch high prices down south! Uproot 'em all!"
"Big bastard! Heart's gotta be huge too! Rip it apart and kill!"
Their eyes were mad for mayonnaise.
Warriors hardened by blizzards charged into bloody battle without fear.
They began systematically clearing wyvern habitats they'd once avoided as too dangerous.
To them, wyverns were no longer terrors but walking mayonnaise jars.
"Tear out the heart undamaged! Wyvern heart muscle sells big!"
"Wyvern teeth! These are top-grade!"
"Frost crystals! Where are the frost crystals?!"
They scaled icy cliffs bare-handed for rare herbs and ores, eradicating the Empire's northern monster headaches.
In the process, untamed lands opened up, safe paths emerged without monster threats.
Increased trade for steady mayonnaise supply naturally forged massive trade routes.
Changes hit the Empire's outpost trading post first.
"Th-They're insane! The giants have lost it! What is all this?!"
The imperial merchant in charge gaped at mountains of wyvern hides and claws, yeti hearts, and rare minerals. A month's worth of trade poured in one day.
"Wh-What do we do with all this... Not enough wagons to the capital!"
Ignoring the prickly-bearded merchant's frantic mutter, a shaggy-bearded giant approached, dropping a sack of goods.
"Merchant sir! Trade all this for Ivory Miracle!"
"Th-The stock we have is all! Next shipment's not here yet..."
The trading post's mayonnaise stock vanished instantly.
But the line of giants showed no end.
"What?! Sold out?"
"We brought this much, and that's all you give?!"
Discontent erupted from giants who sold goods but got no mayonnaise.
A massive fist slammed the post's wall, shaking the building.
"C-Calm down! I'll contact the capital for more right now!"
"Don't trust ya! Bring it now!"
Into the chaos strode Frost-Tooth Sten, a massive wyvern head slung over his shoulder.
"Quiet, all of you!"
The clamor died under his authority.
Sten dropped the wyvern head with a thud and glared coldly at the merchant.
"Merchant. This isn't enough."
"Eek! St-Sten, sir! As you see, we..."
"So, you can't bring more?"
"N-No! Wagons just left for more!"
Sten snorted at the excuse.
"One wagon? That's it?"
His low voice boomed through the post for all giants to hear.
"Merchant. Open your eyes and look outside. Does that look like one wagon's worth?"
The merchant's eyes darted to the window in panic.
The trading square overflowed with giant spoils—no room to step.
Wyvern hides piled like mountains, rare ore sacks like walls.
Far beyond a month's trade, a world-shaking haul.
"Th-This is... N-Never expected this much..."
The merchant stammered, wiping cold sweat pouring like rain.
Sten stepped closer to the sweating man.
"We declared the Great Mayonnaise Hunt. By the king's command. We're here to rightfully claim the Ivory Miracle. And you sent one wagon?"
"N-No, not that! Extra beyond the regular supply!"
"Quiet!"
Sten cut him off with a raised hand.
"You have one job. Right now, contact the highest authority you can."
"Y-Yes? The h-highest...?"
"Emperor, pope—doesn't matter. Tell those holding the Ivory Miracle."
"—that the Frost-Mane clan of the north has brought everything."
He nodded at the piled spoils filling the post.
"And this is just the beginning."
"......!"
As the merchant's eyes widened in shock, Sten grabbed his collar and pulled him close.
"We need that white cream. It's our clan's lifeline."
"Eek...!"
"So relay this."
Sten dropped the merchant and slammed his massive battle axe into the floor with a boom.
"What the emperor wants."
"...Pardon?"
"Ask what our Frost-Mane clan must offer to keep getting it."
"We're ready to hunt and deliver anything."
This was the full story behind the two urgent production request letters landing simultaneously on Jonathan's desk.