Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: The Great Mayonnaise Hunt (2)
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The most immediate change after the start of the Great Mayonnaise Hunt was in their daily lives.
Until then, the giants had been solely focused on survival.
They dried the meat they hunted and ate rough skarr, enduring day by day.
But after the mayonnaise hunt began, their income exploded.
The Empire paid them enormous sums of gold for the wyvern hides, magic stones, rare minerals, and herbs they brought in.
"Ooh, is this mahogany lumber from the Empire's south? The furniture's no ordinary stuff either!"
"Hoo, we could only build houses with conifers before, but now top-quality wood like this is coming in!"
The giants held true 'wealth' in their hands for the first time in their lives.
Having amassed a fortune through the Great Mayonnaise Hunt, the giants bought up every item the Empire offered, and their way of life literally transformed.
They began building sturdy houses with high-quality lumber imported from the south and purchased heating magic tools and durable iron pots through traders.
Children no longer ran barefoot through the snowfields, and women wore pretty southern fabrics instead of crude bone ornaments.
The most astonishing change occurred at their tables.
The giants had originally followed an extreme carnivorous diet.
To endure the harsh cold, they needed high-calorie fats and proteins, and vegetables—which offered no calories and only tasted bitter and astringent—were dismissed as beast fodder.
The only vegetables they ate were a few root varieties boiled into stews until they lost all form.
Their diet was extremely skewed toward meat and fat, often leading to mysterious illnesses or scurvy.
But mayonnaise changed everything.
Priests dispatched from the Papacy distributed relief supplies and actively spread the proper way to partake of the Saintess's salvation.
"Brother, this tough grass is too bitter to eat plain. But look—when you add the Saintess's tears like this..."
The priest slathered plenty of mayonnaise on tough mountain greens and fed it to a giant.
The giants chewed it skeptically. Then their eyes widened enormously at a flavor they'd never tasted before.
"Th-this can't be...! The bitterness is gone!"
The mayonnaise's savory fat enveloped the bitterness and astringency, leaving only the grass's inherent fresh aroma.
The tough, chewy texture had transformed into creamy smoothness.
"Bor! Still leaving the grass behind, are you?!"
A giant woman yelled at her son, but the child shook his head in disgust.
She sighed, then scooped a precious spoonful of rationed mayonnaise with a resolute expression.
Just as the priest had done, she mixed it generously into boiled root vegetables from which the bitterness had been extracted.
A savory, umami-rich aroma spread, and the child hesitantly sniffed it.
"...This smells savory."
The child took a bite, figuring he had nothing to lose. His eyes went wide round.
The vegetables' intense bitterness was nowhere to be found, replaced by the smooth, nutty flavor of mayonnaise filling his mouth.
The child wolfed down the bowl.
This change happened simultaneously across the entire tribe.
"Can't be—the bitterness is completely gone!"
"It even tastes sweet, like the vegetables themselves! How is this possible?"
"With this, I'd even eat bitter herbs gladly!"
The giants began devouring all the vegetables and herbs they'd once avoided, using mayonnaise.
Mayonnaise-dressed salads, vegetable stews thinned with mayonnaise, roasted mushrooms slathered in it.
Their tables became incomparably abundant and varied.
"This... is the taste of grass?"
"Yes. This too is a blessing from the gods. Now you can draw strength not just from meat, but from these green leaves as well."
It was a miracle. Through mayonnaise, the giants awakened to the taste of vegetables.
They no longer boiled root vegetables into mushy porridge. They chopped them fine, mixed with mayonnaise, and enjoyed the crunch.
Tough jerky was shredded and blended with mayonnaise into spreads for bread, and salted salmon roe was mixed with it to maximize flavor.
Their tables grew incomparably bountiful, and a balanced diet of meat, fat, and diverse vegetables visibly improved their health.
Skin ailments in children decreased, adults' chronic joint pain eased, and warriors gained stamina for longer hunts.
Pregnant women gave birth to healthy babies smoothly, and elders regained vitality from soft foods mixed with mayonnaise.
All these changes naturally spawned countless tales.
"Heard? A pregnant woman from the Frostrock tribe had such bad morning sickness she couldn't eat, but she recovered after eating the mayonnaise the priest gave her!"
"My grandma couldn't walk from knee pain, but after eating grass with mayonnaise, she started walking without her cane!"
The rough, barbaric giants who had tasted this miracle became meek lambs before the Papacy's priests.
They called the priests saviors, treated them with utmost respect, and offered the finest cuts of their hunt as thanks.
Some even voluntarily donated portions of their mayonnaise hunt earnings to the Church.
Amid this wondrous transformation, another story that arrived via trade routes began capturing the giants' hearts.
It was the tale of the 'Saintess's Salvation' that the Papacy had begun spreading.
In a small temporary chapel built alongside the trading post, Empire-dispatched priests preached fervently.
"Everyone! This rosy miracle you've tasted is no mere food! It is the tears shed by compassionate Saintess Lumiel for those in suffering, a 'holy relic of salvation' imbued with her sacred divine power!"
When they first heard this, the giants scoffed.
They were pragmatic, rough warriors who believed in nothing unseen like gods or miracles.
But their own experiences—the miracles they'd directly witnessed—shattered their skepticism.
"That might... actually be true."
An elderly giant muttered while chewing herb mixed with mayonnaise.
"This piercing pain that's tormented me my whole life... vanished after eating that cream. No mere lump of oil could do this."
"Same for my child! Always sickly with rashes, but after the Saintess's salvation, he runs like a snowfield wolf!"
It was the most perfect form of conversion.
A miracle they'd personally experienced, tasted, and been saved by.
They began treating mayonnaise not as mere food, but as a sacred object.
Some even started invoking the Saintess's name in short prayers of thanks before meals.
But this wave of change sometimes bred discord.
"What?! The mayonnaise is all gone?! Does that even make sense?!"
Even combining the Papacy's relief mayonnaise with what the Palace sent fell short by three or four parts of demand.
This sparked conflicts, leaving King Ulfgar—who watched over all giants compassionately—with a troubled look.
He too had become a fervent follower of this ivory miracle and had witnessed the wonders it wrought.
Thus, he desired more, but received only rote replies that supplies were limited and prioritized for Empire citizens.
He could almost hear the tribesfolk growling over empty mayonnaise jars all the way to his throne. Alarming reports occasionally came of warriors at the trading post threatening Empire merchants over shortfalls.
Ulfgar pondered ways to resolve this.
The Emperor was using this 'leash' to tame them. The Papacy dangled this 'relic' to claim their souls.
The problem was that no matter what they offered, they were still treated as 'outsiders.'
Prioritized for Empire citizens. That cut deep. Were they, the barbarians and foreigners, reduced to scraps left after Empire folk ate their fill?
Anger surged, but reason prevailed. The tribe could no longer survive winter without this rosy miracle. Elders, children, pregnant women's lives hung in the balance.
To him and his people, this miracle was irreplaceable.
Resolve frosted the eyes of the white-haired king.
'Citizens...'
That was the core issue.
No matter how many wyvern hides they offered, they remained 'foreigners' and 'barbarians.'
The Empire's Emperor didn't trust them; the Church's Pope saw them only as 'subjects for conversion.'
Thus the thirst. A silent threat that the leash could snap anytime.
But it was too late. Ulfgar recalled his strengthened knees and the rosy cheeks of tribal children.
The miracles from this relic were real. There was no turning back.
'Then...'
Cold determination—not anger or humiliation—filled the seasoned king's eyes.
'Give them what they want.'
If discriminated as foreigners, then cease being foreigners.
If the Emperor wanted 'submission,' kneel and become the Empire's shield.
If the Church wanted 'conversion,' accept their god and become the Lord's lambs.
In exchange for citizen status and discrimination-free, stable access to this rosy miracle.
The tribe would prosper across this vast land. Children shivering in cold would become proud warriors.
They would drive out the frost and chill cursing this land under the savage frost dragon, cultivate it, and one day sow crops for a hundredfold harvest.
Then, giants could finally forge their own destiny.
For that, he would gladly embrace that gospel and face that trial.
Bent knees could straighten again, but starved children could not rise once fallen.
The tribe's future outweighed their outdated pride a thousandfold; his crown yielded to his people's lives.
Ulfgar rose. His massive shadow engulfed the throne.
"Call Sten."
His voice was low and firm.
"No—assemble an envoy to the Empire's capital. Dress in the most formal attire, and take the royal seal proclaiming them my official envoys."
He gazed outside. Tribesfolk still murmuring in anticipation of mayonnaise were visible.
"And summon all the chieftains. The day northern history changes is upon us."
Ulfgar stepped before the throne, facing the tribesfolk gathered in the plaza.
"...I, King of the Giants and Frostmane Ulfgar, declare here and now."