The Northern Mage

"Hey~! Fresh fish caught less than a day ago—three for 1,000 lira! Cheap, right?!"

"Miss over there~! Wanna check out these earrings? They're from..."

"Freshly baked wheat bread, just one for 100 lira! So nutty and delicious~!"

The market bustled with crowds from early morning. The Royal Capital Elgraf was a warm, pleasant city perfect for living. On strong sunny days like this, even a little movement made you sweat, so everyone wore short, light clothing.

Amid all that, a girl walked by in thick fur clothes that didn't fit the season at all. Sky-blue hair swaying as she clutched a staff made of transparent material like glass in one hand, gazing around in wonder. Wrapped head to toe in fur with her hood up, passersby shot her strange looks.

"What the... in this weather?"

"Not hot in that...?"

But unlike the concerned onlookers, the girl didn't feel hot at all. A faint chill even emanated from her body.

Frau, the Northern mage. That was her name.

Frau was born on the icy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Northern Continent, where blizzards raged. Her mana had a naturally cold nature from birth, making her a natural master of ice magic.

Northerners rarely came down to the capital. A half-frozen sea separated the Northern Continent from the mainland, making travel difficult and distant, so exchanges were rare.

But after a long journey, Frau had reached the Royal Capital. Ever since leaving home, she'd been searching for something.

Ignoring the stares, Frau walked on until she stopped in front of a bulletin board in the square. The grimy board was covered in countless marks from posters being put up and torn down. It always had all sorts of ads plastered on it.

Frau scanned the ads until her eyes stopped on a clean, recently posted one.

"......"

Frau stared at the restaurant ad for a long time. She checked the location, then immediately turned and started walking.

"Welcome~!"

Ding-a-ling—

The door to Restaurant Enhau opened with a bell chime, and the waitresses greeted cheerfully. Self-proclaimed finest in the Royal Capital, it was quite the upscale place. The main course—butter and vegetable veal steak set—cost 50,000 lira. With drinks and luxury, it could easily hit 100,000 without blinking.

Commoners without money rarely set foot here, but Frau had come.

"Um... miss? Shall I seat you?"

"Where's the head chef? Where's the head chef?"

The Northern mage Frau asked the waitress quietly. The waitress, who had been smiling brightly, faltered a bit. The room felt a tad cooler since this customer entered.

And indeed, a chill poured from Frau's body.

"If you take a seat, I'll bring the menu..."

"No need for a menu. I want the head chef with the top skills."

"But..."

"Out of the way."

Frau brushed past the troubled waitress toward the kitchen. It was a high-end place, and not mealtime yet, so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠few customers.

"Who's the best chef in this restaurant?"

She'd barged right up to the kitchen door and called inside. Five cooks, including the head chef, were working.

"A customer? I'm Rosch, the head chef. You can't come in here."

The head chef spoke firmly upon spotting her. But Frau had no intention of backing down.

"If you're truly the best here, I have a request."

"For food, it's on the menu..."

"Listen properly, and I'll pay 1 million lira."

"1 million... lira?"

Head chef Rosch's eyes widened at the massive sum. Was this crazy girl pranking? But her expression and the staff in her hand said otherwise.

"Don't try unless you're serious. No second chances. If you can't meet my conditions..."

Frau paused, glaring coldly. The chill from her intensified, making everyone shiver.

"...I'll take your life."

Gulp—

Rosch instinctively knew she meant it. Call the guards? Might make things worse. She looked like a mage... Better refuse politely.

But as a chef of decades in the capital's top restaurant, pride swelled. A mysterious mage customer wagering his life on an order.

"...Can I hear the order first before deciding?"

Rosch asked in a trembling voice.

"Of course. But decide carefully."

Frau opened her travel bag, pulling something out. She explained her desired dish to Rosch.

He listened quietly to the end, examining what she'd shown from the bag closely.

"...So? Can you do it?"

"Er... um..."

Sweat beaded on Rosch's forehead. As she said, no room for two chances.

"...I can't. I refuse the order."

Finally, he answered. Pride bruised a bit, but not worth his life.

Frau nodded once quietly, packed her things without a word, and left.

"A ghost who can't fly? Come on."

"Uuuu! Even if you say that... I just can't!"

"Fine, just hold the ladder steady."

After chiding the seaweed-ghost Aris a bit, I climbed the ladder with the new shop sign.

Misikdang Slow. On elf knight Irit's advice, we'd stopped general business. No menu board, new sign made.

No plans for walk-ins anyway, so we made promo flyers too—ones we'd skipped before ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to avoid crowds.

We had an ad agency in a nearby city distribute them. By now, our flyers should be on village square boards.

"Alright, that should do it. Aris, put the ladder back in the shed."

"Neeeh... huff... puff..."

I had Aris clean up, then admired the new sign from a distance. 'Slow' carved simply into wood. More like a countryside home than a restaurant.

"Sa... ladder stored~"

Satisfied with the storefront, Aris approached, arms dangling, tired face on her perpetually wet seaweed hair.

"You're a ghost—why do you get tired?"

"What do you take me for? Of course it's tiring."

"Let's eat inside."

"Ah, yeees! Food! Food!"

Sunset neared—dinnertime. Excited Aris followed me in.

Over simple dinner, I asked Aris,

"What do you think? Will people come after seeing the promo?"

"Nom... nom..."

"Finish eating first."

Aris swallowed her stew-stuffed mouthful and replied.

"Promo should work. You never advertised before."

"Yeah... didn't want crowds."

"But honestly, even with promo, few will come."

"Why?"

"You know. The location's a bit..."

Aris saw it too. Even with new policy and flyers, location was the barrier.

Nearest forest: monster-infested danger zone. No nearby cities, rough cart paths.

I, a Grand Mage, felt no hassle. But for customers, just reaching us was a wall.

Ding-a-ling—

Then, the door opened—someone arrived.

"Eep-! Pfft-! Cough! W-Welcome~!"

Mid-meal Aris jumped up to greet.

The visitor: girl in thick furs. Transparent magic staff in hand, sky-blue hair. Intense cold mana poured out uncontrollably.

As a Grand Mage, I knew instantly: no ordinary mage.

"Customer, here for a reservation?"

Bracing for trouble, I asked tensely.

The fur-clad girl nodded quietly.

Then looked at me and said,

"Heard you take any order without limits. True?"

She'd seen our recent promo. Rude for her apparent age. Mages are like that, though.

Customer or not, mage to mage—no need for formalities.

"Yes. Any order, we deliver satisfaction. That's our creed."

"Special order then. Success: 1 million lira."

"1 million lira...?"

The absurd sum startled me. Even with my adventuring fortune, paying that for one meal was wild.

The girl looked up straight at me and continued.

"...No second chances. Unsatisfied? I take your life."

The air chilled at her words.

What the—death foodie? She'd hit other places first, got rejected, wandered here.

Amusing. Not scared. This was my restaurant. If she attacked, I'd crush her.

"Fine. I accept."

I decided to take the order.