Cephalopods Are Delicious (2)
The giant mimic was subjugated in an instant.
Of course it was.
The conversation about the rewards that Catherine and Alfred had deliberately let slip had spread through the camp exactly as spoken, without a single word of exaggeration or omission.
Naturally, the two strongest combatants of the escort—Giant and Catherine—did not step forward.
No, they could not step forward.
Someone still had to guard the camp. The only ones free to answer the call were the adventurers. It was Alfred’s order, weighed carefully against the procession’s combat strength, the need to preserve elite personnel, morale, and a host of other factors.
Still, voices of dissatisfaction were inevitable.
A mimic that guaranteed savory loot the moment you caught it. And one the size of a building, no less—it would have been stranger if people weren’t interested. Even the handful of knights who treated gold like dirt twitched at the news, so the reaction of the soldiers under them was only to be expected.
"Does a mimic really grow that huge?"
"Wow, then how much treasure would you get after hunting it?"
"Ugh, we missed out big time. Never thought I’d see the day I envied adventurers."
"Why? If you’re unhappy, why not quit?"
"Even so, quitting public service is a bit..."
Fortunately, while the rewards for the adventurers who joined the subjugation were the largest, those waiting in the camp were not left empty-handed either. Everything had gone exactly according to Alfred’s calculations.
Yet there were still those bold enough to nurse grievances.
"Good heavens! A mimic that enormous. The feel of it in the hand would be incredible too."
"My lord. I heard His Lordship limited participation in the subjugation solely to the adventurers traveling with the procession!"
"What!? Remus. Are you telling me I have to sit still with a never-before-seen monster right in front of me? This is unfair!"
"As the nominal head of the escort, it cannot be helped. I believe you need to resign yourself."
Besides them, a handful of knights were unhappy simply at being excluded from the honor of a monster hunt. Regardless of their feelings, the adventurers’ burning zeal carried the day, and the giant mimic was successfully subjugated with only minor casualties.
Gulp—gulp—gulp—
Crashhhhhh— The giant cephalopod sheathed in a rock shell continually vomited up loot. A small mountain took shape: equipment that had once belonged to its victims, magic tools, grimoires, consumables, valuables, and coins of gold, silver, and copper.
Alfred’s eyes took in the entire scene of sorting with quiet admiration.
"I’ve heard of mimics, of course."
They had originally intended to entrust the loot collection to carefully selected personnel, but those very people all objected in unison. The reason they had been selected in the first place was precisely this. One look at the mountain of treasure the giant mimic was spewing out, and the conclusion was obvious: they alone could never manage it. There was simply too much.
In the end, adventurers, laborers, and even third parties who had been following the procession were pressed into service to clear the site, sort the spoils, and haul them away. Add the knights and soldiers standing guard with hawk-like eyes, ready to apply violence at the slightest suspicious movement, and the place grew noisier than a marketplace.
"I think I understand a little why adventurers risk their lives obsessing over dungeons."
"My lord. Even I have seen a mimic like that only a handful of times in my life."
"Indeed. You said the same thing, Atanitas."
"To an adventurer, the only difference between a mimic and a treasure chest is whether it attacks you or not."
"By the way, simply recovering and storing all this loot is going to be an enormous task."
"There’s still the matter of fair distribution after that."
At those words Alfred absently rubbed the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. He opened his eyes, surveyed the bustling work, let out a small sigh, and turned toward Catherine.
"Come to think of it, where is Karem? Wasn’t he with you just a moment ago?"
"...He’s over there."
"Over there? You mean the mimic’s treasure mountain?"
"No."
Alfred’s gaze followed the tip of Catherine’s staff. Behind the giant mimic, half-hidden by its tentacles, Karem stood with a knot of adventurers.
"Surely he isn’t trying to pocket some of the treasure."
"He says he’s going to eat the mimic."
"...What?"
Alfred forgot his dignity and stared at her with wide eyes. She merely nodded with a knowing look.
"He claimed that since it looks similar to octopus and squid, the taste should be similar as well."
"...Atanitas. Do you know something?"
"What do you mean?"
"I have no idea what octopus and squid are. But I hate myself for getting my hopes up after hearing your words."
"I was thinking exactly the same thing."
The two of them let out deep, simultaneous sighs.
"The Red Witch’s Fingers were certainly useful."
Alfred, who had thoroughly benefited from Karem’s peculiarities before, tried to force himself to understand.
"Its value as a spice far outstrips even cold-resistance potions. Same with the vanilla."
"The former was a poisonous herb, and the latter came from a grizzly beaver’s—"
"No need to finish that sentence."
Alfred cut her off at once.
While the two of them stood fretting, they caught sight of Karem lifting a slab of the giant mimic’s flesh, utterly unconcerned by the stares of the surrounding adventurers. Unlike the rock shell, the rough gray hide, and the suckers, the flesh inside was pure white—white as snow.
"So... what can you make with that?"
"As far as I know, there is only one place that eats things similar to that—octopus and squid."
"There’s a place that eats that?"
"Much smaller than a mimic, but yes."
"What country on earth would eat such a grotesque dish—"
"Servianus."
"Ah. If it’s Servianus, then well."
Alfred understood at once. Servianus was famous throughout Europa as a land of gourmet cuisine. A nation that could be considered a descendant of the fallen ancient empire, it was renowned for its fine dining—perhaps precisely because it had inherited its ancestral civilization. Some claimed Berseingeto was the true birthplace of gourmet food, but that was nonsense. Berseingeto had lived on raw food like true herbivores until the ancient empire conquered it and taught them cooking. Servianus was the real home of haute cuisine.
"But... one worry comes to mind."
"May I ask what that is?"
"If what you say is true, then you yourself must have eaten those creatures called squid and octopus."
"Yes. It’s been some time, but the dishes haven’t disappeared."
"Then is the taste similar to a mimic’s?"
At the perfectly natural question Catherine furrowed her brow slightly and shook her head.
"Of course I wouldn’t know."
"Same with the Red Witch’s Fingers, and the vanilla. I thought you’d have plenty of experience, but it seems not."
"Isn’t that only natural? Who in the world would eat a mimic?"
You subjugated it and took the loot. Edible monsters existed, of course, but in Catherine’s long life Karem was the first person who had ever charged in declaring he intended to eat a mimic.
"...Come to think of it, that Karem made pickles on the spot from a grizzly beaver’s... ahem. From a poisonous herb, claiming it smelled fragrant."
"...Then at least does it look similar?"
"To squid and octopus? Yes."
Whether the taste turned out similar or not would be a problem either way, but for the moment Catherine answered obediently.
"...Then at least the taste is guaranteed."
"Servianus octopus and squid dishes are exquisite."
"Can your lover cook Servianus cuisine as well?"
"He does it quite excellently."
Catherine remembered clearly: Servianus cuisine was said to be not merely similar to, but identical with, the cuisine of a country that bordered a sea called the Mediterranean. Like Alfred, she found herself looking forward to it once more. But of all things, the subject was a mimic. As she had thought before, it was truly lamentable.
"So... what will he make with the octopus and squid?"
"...For now, he’ll grill it Servianus-style. They eat it as a salad, I hear."
The problem was that, judging from his track record so far, the taste alone was guaranteed.
Culture differs according to the environment people live in. Naturally, food culture follows the same rule. Therefore it is understandable that people avoid ingredients or dishes they have never encountered before.
Arthropods and crustaceans are classic examples. To those who have spent their entire lives inland and whose only seafood has ever been fish, those two delicacies are nothing more than an extension of bugs.
(Biologically, that is not particularly wrong.)
On the other hand, take lobster, the classic high-class ingredient. In old America it was so overabundant that it was food for the poor, prisoners, and slaves—used as fertilizer, even.
Thus food culture is shaped not only by environment but by circumstance, fashion, price, culture, religion, the spirit of the age, and countless other factors.
Octopus, squid, webfoot octopus, and the rest—cephalopods as a whole are no different. Even before modern times, octopus and squid were regarded as objects of terror, devil-fish, solely because of their appearance. Across East and West, only a tiny minority had ever eaten them since ancient days. Even in the modern world many countries still refuse cephalopods; how much more so a place like Europa that has not even reached modernity?
Hadn’t Catherine said as much? That only one country ate them.
Karem understood perfectly. Even he disliked cephalopods other than squid and octopus. And even those he refused as sashimi. Webfoot octopus was too small and unsettling. Ordinary octopus had a texture he disliked. Cuttlefish was too tough. If even someone who loved eating as much as he did was this selective, he could hardly blame others for the revulsion provoked by an appearance so far removed from ordinary seafood.
Had it tasted bad he would have discarded it, but fortunately for Karem the mimic’s flesh tasted much like octopus and squid. Being so large it was correspondingly tough, yet that was no problem. Dense lattice scoring solved the texture issue.
And so, with the final psychological barrier removed, the empty space left by Amadeus and Nutella was filled to overflowing with mimic meat.
The psychological resistance of the others invited to Catherine’s tent, however, remained firmly in place.
Click.
He therefore prepared dishes that tended to divide opinions less sharply: takoyaki, street-stall fried squid, calamari (Mediterranean-style fried squid), and jjamppong.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Here—please dig in."
The gazes of Catherine, Mary, Alfred, Alicia, and Baroness Poppins all converged on the dishes arrayed across the table.
(Godwyn and William had fled.)
At first glance the food looked appetizing. A basket held golden-brown and yellow fried pieces of various lengths. Bite-sized round balls piled high on a plate, generously glazed with teriyaki sauce and Maoines. A steaming broth thick with vegetables and meat, giving off a rich, spicy aroma. The tent was filled with the greasy, sweet-savory, and spicy fragrances.
Yet in the eyes of everyone seated, the original form of the ingredients was still vivid: the giant mimic with its tentacles. Hands would not readily reach out.
Even Alicia hesitated. In the midst of that silence Karem unhesitatingly speared a round ball—takoyaki—and ate it.
Crunch—
Dishes are at their best when freshly made. In that sense the mimic takoyaki, already sauced and slightly cooled, was past its absolute peak. Still the exterior remained crisp, the interior moist enough to flow at the slightest pressure. Just as giant squid is tough, the pieces of mimic inside were similar. Thanks to the dense scoring, however, they were perfectly edible.
As Karem continued to eat the takoyaki with obvious relish, Alicia watched him with a look of pure confusion.
"You’re eating it like it’s really delicious. Is it actually good?"
"Of course. I was craving seafood, and this tastes pretty similar."
"Eh."
This is seafood? Alicia stared blankly at him for a moment, then shot her hand toward the mountain of fried food. Before anyone could intervene, a brown piece vanished into her mouth.
Crunch—
"...Huh?"
"Does it taste strange?"
"..."
Crunch—crunch crunch—
Alicia raised a hand to silence Alfred and chewed with a serious expression. The batter was a little firm, yet as she worked it a gentle heat and subtle spices bloomed. The carefully scored flesh was savory and chewy, springing away between the teeth with a texture that vaguely recalled clams.
The yellow pieces, made from the same meat, were no different. Crispy yet soft, they exploded with nutty savoriness and were mild and clean. Dipped in soy sauce, their hidden umami doubled and mingled on the tongue.
Having sampled both varieties, Alicia opened her eyes and addressed the curious stares fixed upon her.
"This tastes a little weird somehow."
"...As expected of a mimic? Then Karem was only teasing us."
"So Alicia will take care of all this fried food."
"Still, out of courtesy we should at least taste—wait, what?"
What had Alicia just said?
Her true intentions became clear to everyone at once.
"Lady Alicia."
"Baroness Poppins?"
"This is a dish meant for everyone to share."
"Hiiing."
The bowl of mimic fritters that had been dragged in front of Alicia was firmly returned to its original place.
Attached Materials
- Greek-style Grilled Octopus -
- Takoyaki -
- Calamari -
- Fried Squid -
These are pictures drawn by ChatGPT.