Chapter 7: Omelet Rice

Chapter 7:
Omelet Rice

In the southern region of the Eastern Continent were the warm marshlands. This was where the monsters known as lizardmen lived. These reptilian humanoids had powerful muscles and unique water magic. Since the times of old, lizardmen made the marshlands their home, feeding off of local wildlife like alligators, birds, and fish.

Gaganpo was the respected hero of the Blue Tails, one of the lizardmen tribes. Today was the special day that came once every seven days, so he was cleaning his body of the dirt from the hunt. He bathed his bulk in clean water in the small washing space near where his people lived. When hunting, lizardmen would dive into the mud, using stone axes and spears to kill their prey without them even noticing. This meant that they were often covered in all sorts of muck.

Earlier that day, Gaganpo hunted down a massive alligator, and so now he was washing away the filth with water. With the dirt gone, his sculpted body was visible for all to see. In order to make sure he was truly clean, and also to dry off the cold water, he looked up toward the sun in the heavens and spread his body out, bathing in the light.

He was a lizardman of average height, his body bulging with finely toned muscles. His hide was covered in tough, green scales with a light blue tint, half-healed scars peppered throughout. His skin was hard enough to deflect a human’s sword strike. It had been eight years since Gaganpo was born into the world, meaning his combat experience and youth were in their prime. The scars he wore on his body were proof that he was a hero who’d survived numerous dangerous battles.

Gaganpo wiped himself down with a cloth woven from vines. He took a moment to admire the way the sunlight reflected off of his muscular body and then turned to put his equipment on. His newly cleaned armor was made from the skin of a hydra that he led the tribe in striking down. The armor itself resembled that which the skilled human warriors known as “knights” wore. His weapon of choice was a spear with a black stone tip, but he didn’t take it. According to a pact that was made long before Gaganpo was born, there were to be no weapons or fighting within the other world that Nekoya existed in.

“That should do it.”

Gaganpo looked at the reflection of himself in the still water and cleared his throat, nodding to himself. He was ready to go to Nekoya. The sun was directly above his head, signaling the time. Gaganpo took a deep breath and ran like a horse toward the village where Nekoya’s door would appear.

In the main square of the town waited the short village chief, his body covered in tattoos that signified his worship of the blue water god. Many other lizardmen were also waiting patiently for Gaganpo’s arrival. They slapped their tails on the ground to show their respect for the hero.

“Chief, I’m ready.”

“Good. Take care, Hero.”

On average, if a lizardman lived to be twenty years old, that was considered a long life. The male chief of this village had somehow managed to live three times that length. He nodded his head to Gaganpo.

“Gaganpo! We’ve brought the silver stones, copper stones, and the dishes!”

The children, each only about a year old, came running toward the warrior, their eyes sparkling with excitement and expectation. They carried with them a bag of flat and round silver and copper stones that they received from the neighboring human tribe in exchange for alligator skins. One of the children carried multiple wooden plates.

“Excellent. Thank you.” Gaganpo grabbed the items from the kids, finally ready to make his way to the other world.

He stood in front of the altar where the door to another world appeared. Over the years, this area had been decorated with all manner of beautiful stones and flowers. According to the chief, this door first appeared here before even he was born. This altar was built where the door initially appeared.

At the time of its first appearance, the lizardman that resolved to enter the door without knowing where it led was Gerupa, the strongest warrior in the Blue Tail Tribe at the time. On the other side, he had a fateful encounter in “Nekoya of the Other World.” He returned with amazing food from that strange place. That was the beginning of a brand new tradition: on the seventh day, whenever the black door appeared in their world, the tribe’s strongest member would travel to “Nekoya of the Other World” and bring home with them a feast. They selected this hero through a festival held every year.

“I’m going now.”

The expectant eyes of the children and women at his back, Gaganpo was greeted by the door’s bells as he stepped into the other world.

“Welcome!”

“Mm. I’m here.”

Gaganpo nodded his head to the lord of the other world; the master. Thanks to some kind of magic, the language of the lizardmen, or perhaps more accurately, the languages of their world, were automatically translated for the master. Thanks to this, Gaganpo found it easier to talk to the middle-aged man than he did the humans of his own world.

“Omelet rice. Large. Also three omelets to go.” Gaganpo sat himself down and handed the master three wooden plates, making the usual order. The master of this world had taught the hero how to order food when he first visited this strange place. By giving the human man silver and copper stones, Gaganpo would in return be treated to an otherworldly feast.

“Gotcha. Hang on just a second.” The master took the large wooden plates and returned to the back.

While Gaganpo waited, his eyes darted around the interior of the restaurant. It was around noon, which meant there were already other customers present. He spotted an elf with bent ears, a short, bearded dwarf, and even a human. They were all residents of his world that also crossed over via a black door. According to the human tribe with which the lizardmen traded stones and skins, there was a vast world outside of the marshlands. To Gaganpo, who had grown up and lived there all of his life, this was a difficult tale to swallow.

And yet, simply by passing through a doorway, Gaganpo found himself in a place like this. The other customers seemed to be enjoying their delicious meals. Their races and hometowns were all different, but they shared the same objective. That was the reason why bloody battles never erupted here.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ll bring over the takeout when you’re ready to leave.”

“Mm. Many thanks.”

Gaganpo was finally face to face with his true objective. It was a yellow food with colorful, bright red lines decorating its surface. Gaganpo gulped at the mere scent of cooked eggs wafting up from the dish called “omelet rice.” He joyfully grabbed the sparkling spoon next to him.

“Thank you for this meal.”

Gaganpo recited the holy words that those of this world spoke before meals and brought his spoon down to the plate. The egg broke immediately, so soft that the spoon effortlessly sunk into it. The insides of the omelet revealed themselves to be packed with some kind of red filling. Further in was a sort of orange, grounded goodness. The bright green beans served as a wonderful contrast to the other colors. The salted chicken meat, otherworldly mushrooms that couldn’t be found in warm regions, and the host of other vegetables were all diced up into small pieces, coming together to form one delicious food wrapped in the warm embrace of the yellow egg.

This is truly an otherworldly dish, Gaganpo thought as he brought the small spoon carrying a host of different ingredients to his mouth.

“Mm.”

The mix of flavors spreading throughout Gaganpo’s mouth was the same he experienced three years ago when he was first selected as the hero of his tribe and stepped through the black door. Needless to say, the first part of the meal to wage war on Gaganpo’s mouth was the egg. As a race, the lizardmen spent much time researching how to replicate this flavor using alligator eggs found in the marshlands but found little success. They simply couldn’t emulate the omelet’s perfectly soft texture.

The dish in front of Gaganpo tasted of both milk and butter, with a strong saltiness and a mild sweetness to it. Bringing all of that intense flavor together was the sour red sauce on top. If this meal were just the egg and red sauce, that alone could be described as a tremendous feast and accomplishment.

But everything that came after was equally delicious. The chicken, likely salted to preserve it, released its savory juices the moment one took a bite. Meanwhile, the other world’s thinly sliced mushrooms had a rich, earthy flavor all their own.

The orange dust coated the minced and stir-fried otherworldly vegetables, bringing their flavors together under one umbrella. It was that very same taste that Gaganpo was now experiencing as he swallowed down a bit of the omelet rice. Fortunately for him, there was still plenty to go.

Gaganpo hurriedly began to move his spoon again. Despite his plate being over twice the size of all the other customers’, he made the food atop it disappear in but an instant.

“Mm. Seconds,” he ordered, before he had even finished his first serving.

“Aye.”

Three years had passed since the first time the lizardman ate this dish. Like all the heroes before him, he too became addicted to its great taste. Eventually, he finished his meal and took a satisfied breath. With his stomach full, he felt overcome with joy.

“All done.” Gaganpo recited the holy words used to mark the end of a meal in this world and waited for the master to come back.

“Sorry to keep you waiting! Here are your three omelets to go.”

“Mm, they’re ready?”

The master came out with three plates, almost as if he had been waiting for Gaganpo to finish his meal before reappearing. On each plate was a massive omelet. Each of the plates were in a see-through bag of some kind, all for the lizardmen back in his village.

“Mm. Payment.” Gaganpo confirmed the contents of the plates and opened his own bag, showing the master the silver and copper stones inside of it. The human man reached in and pulled out exactly the right amount that he required.

“Thanks as always!”

Upon hearing the master’s words, Gaganpo closed up his bag and put it back on his waist. To him, these silver and copper stones had the same value as your average rock on the road. At most, you could maybe throw them like some sort of basic weapon. That said, for as long as the tribe could remember, the master of this restaurant preferred silver and copper stones to other things like dried fish or black stones that could be turned into weapons. This held true even now.

The master had taken three trips to bring each plate out, one by one, but Gaganpo easily lifted all of them in one go. He held one in his right hand, one in his left, and one with his tail.

“Farewell.” Gaganpo headed toward the exit.

“We look forward to your next visit!”

“Mm.”

Gaganpo nodded to the master who politely opened the door for him and stepped outside. He was back in the village square, right in front of the altar. Around the area were a number of lizardmen, eagerly anticipating his return and watching the altar intently.

“I return with feast in hand!”

The hero triumphantly raised all three plates into the air, causing the lizardmen to beat their tails against the ground and cry out in joy. Shortly thereafter, the young women of the tribe approached Gaganpo and took the large plates from him. They then placed the bagged meals in front of the chief, who carefully made sure not to tear the bags’ skins as he unwrapped each dish. The lizardmen were immediately entranced by the aroma freed from the see-through wrapping.

To them, there were few things more important than this yellow egg dish. All of the lizardmen anxiously swallowed down the saliva that built up in their mouths. The chief used a sharped black stone to cut into each omelet, making sure to cut equal sized pieces for all who were present.

A simple stir-fry of finely cut meat and oranie leaked out of the omelet on the first plate. The savory quality of the meat, which had been lightly seasoned with salt and pepper, combined with the faint sweetness of the oranie. This made the flavors of the egg and red sauce easy to recognize, leaving room for each individual ingredient to be enjoyed on their own.

White cheese and stir-fried smoked meat oozed out of the second omelet. Cheese, a human food with an incredibly unique flavor to it, and meat that had been salted and smoked, were both foods that couldn’t be found in the marshlands. The smoked meat had a flavor that one couldn’t replicate by simply cooking meat, and when layered with the cheese, created a melting sensation in the mouth.

Inside the third omelet were a bunch of small shripes covered in white, sweet cream. The cream, being the sweetest ingredient of the three dishes, complemented the fresh flavor of the shripe quite nicely.

The lizardmen’s eyes instinctively narrowed in response to the poignant aromas surrounding them. In order to make sure that everyone in the village got a piece, each lizardman could only take from one omelet. Which would they choose? If only they could have them all. More than a few lizardmen were asking themselves that very question as they waited for the chief’s magic words.

…And then.

“You may eat!” As the individual responsible for portioning out the food, the chief had the right to pick from whichever plate he wanted. He grabbed a piece of the cheese omelet, and soon the other lizardmen began to politely battle over the other pieces. Each chunk was smaller than the palms of their hands. That mattered little to them. This was a feast they could only experience once every seven days. To the lizardmen born into the Blue Tail Tribe, this was their most highly valued treasure.

While some swallowed their portion whole and others took small bites, they all happily beat their tails against the ground as they ate.

Gaganpo was the only lizardman to stand back and simply watch. As the hero, he was special in that he was allowed to eat his fill at the restaurant. The trade-off was that he would be exempt from the celebration proper. Gaganpo couldn’t help but be slightly disappointed, even if he understood why that was the case.

Well, not much longer till the next festival, eh?

Watching the proceedings reminded him of the meal he ate moments earlier. The position of village hero was a highly coveted one thanks to its culinary perks. There were plenty of other warriors vying for his spot.

Gaganpo didn’t plan on letting anyone else take his spot though, not when there were more delicious omelets on the line.

I will remain this village’s hero. And then…

He would eat as many omelets as possible over the next year.

Gaganpo, the hero of the Blue Tail Tribe, hardened his resolve yet again and slapped his tail against the ground with a loud thud.