Quantity was a critical factor. Even if it was only enough to get stuck between a Glavenus's teeth, there at least had to be enough to get stuck—one had to be able to actually taste the flavor, after all.
Asterion naturally noticed that these uniquely colored Bugtrappers were different from the other cooking teams. They carefully moved pieces of meat onto the kitchen counter, but none of the pieces were particularly large; they were only "large" relative to the size of an average Grimalkyne.
In fact, they were nowhere near as massive as the slabs of meat sitting on the neighboring counters. They even looked... less than fresh?
The meat used by the other Grimalkyne chefs was not only enormous but also a vibrant, tender red. This was especially true for the cuts taken from monsters that had recently perished; when placed on the counter, the meat would even twitch and ripple as if it were still alive.
Anyone who has bought fresh beef knows this is a sign of vitality in the ingredients. Even though the monsters were dead, their powerful life force allowed the nerves in the flesh to continue transmitting signals, causing the raw cuts to throb.
However, the meat the Bugtrappers produced now looked shriveled. It reminded the nearby Protectors—the Grimalkynes of the Wildspire Waste—of the jerky their tribe smoked or sun-dried in large quantities every year.
Yet, it wasn't quite as dessicated as the jerky their tribe made. On the contrary, the shape was quite plump and remained perfectly square.
Ignoring the stares of the other cats, the Bugtrapper chef picked up a blade and began trimming the edges of the dull-colored meat. The first cut wasn't deep; he merely sliced a thin sliver from the left and right sides.
After observing the cross-section, the chef continued cutting, peeling away another thin layer along the previous incision. He then used the width of these two cuts as a guide to trim the corresponding faces of the meat. Finally, he threw all the discarded trimmings away.
"This is ready to eat, meow!"
"Ha-meow?!"
"That hasn't even been cooked yet, meow!!"
"You idiot, meow! You can't slack off when it comes to Big Boss Glavenus, meow!!"
"I'm getting angry, meow! I'm really getting angry now, meow!!"
"..."
When the Bugtrapper chef announced the dish was ready, it wasn't just the ordinary Grimalkynes watching from the sidelines who lost their cool—even "Dragon-Chosen" chefs like Pot found it hard to keep it together.
Pot, in particular, quite liked these distant cousins. He had even put in effort to help transport the ingredients they were using, carrying them over vast distances. He had expected them to pull off some incredible new trick, but instead, they just sliced it and served it? Hey!
Even back when he was cooking for himself before his culinary training, he hadn't been that lazy!
This was a major disaster!
The Grimalkynes of the Glavenus Tribe seemed genuinely angry. From their perspective, the actions of these forest cousins were undoubtedly a sign of disrespect toward Asterion—one might even call it an insult!
It was important to remember that before the Grand Appreciation Fest officially began, certain cats had been specifically assigned to instruct these forest-dwelling cousins on Asterion's tastes. For instance, they were told to use heavy seasoning and ensure the portions were massive.
If the spices they brought weren't enough, they were welcome to use the Glavenus Tribe's own seasonings. However, the food presented to Asterion had to be the absolute best—and this was how these cousins were slacking off?
The Glavenus Tribe would never allow any cat to be disrespectful to their Big Boss!
There were already cats looking ready to rush forward and start a fight—the kind where you get tossed straight out of a tree.
"We aren't slacking off, meow!!" Hearing the growing hostility in their shouts, the Bugtrapper chef suddenly grew anxious. "If you want the original, authentic flavor, this is how this meat is eaten, meow! There really isn't much else to be done, meow. Normally, for us cats, we'd have to cut it into smaller pieces, but for Big Boss Glavenus, there's no need, meow!"
"And this is just to let the Big Boss taste the original flavor first, meow! We haven't finished yet, meow!"
Perhaps because he was too nervous or a bit too frightened, another Bugtrapper chef jumped in to defend his companion.
"ROAR!" (Bring the meat over.)
Unlike the agitated Grimalkynes, Asterion didn't feel insulted at all. Besides, he didn't think the Bugtrappers had the guts for that.
Once Asterion issued the command, the excited Glavenus Tribe cats calmed down a bit. At the very least, they stopped screaming for the Bugtrappers' heads.
The logic was simple: the Big Boss wanted to eat those plain blocks of meat. Since the Boss had an appetite for them, there had to be a reason.
Maybe they were unexpectedly delicious?
Being the simple and kindhearted Lynians they were, some cats already began to regret their rash words and threats. They prepared to apologize in a little while.
The meat was soon delivered into Asterion's mouth. He narrowed his eyes, chewing carefully with his front teeth. He had to be cautious; while these blocks were large to a normal Grimalkyne, they were tiny to him. If he chewed carelessly, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to taste anything at all.
Chew, savor, feel.
As a draconic gourmet, Asterion had his own standards.
To his surprise, the first thing he tasted was the fragrance of fresh grass. It was hard to imagine tasting such a thing in a meat dish. Except for those difficult days right after he'd hatched, Asterion had always been a pure carnivore.
Following that grassy scent, as he continued to chew, he detected a nutty aroma. And of course, there was the essential savoriness of meat—even a hint of creaminess. The texture was silky and dense. It was truly unique.
This was—dry-aging!
After a quick search through the "books" in his memory, Asterion finally remembered what was going on with this meat that tasted of grass and nuts.
These Bugtrappers actually possessed the skill of dry-aging?
Dry-aging was a process of treating meat under constant temperature and humidity, allowing humans in ancient societies to preserve their hunts. The different materials applied to the outer layer not only broke down the muscle fibers and concentrated the flavor but also formed a hard crust that locked in the juices. This allowed the inner meat to soften and develop complex aromas like nuts and cheese.
A special cooking technique of the local cats?
Interesting. After all, the Protectors only knew how to sun-dry or smoke meat.
"ROAR! ROAR-ROAR!" (Good. Delicious. Let them continue.)
Leaf immediately translated Asterion's words. As soon as the verdict was in, the Bugtrappers, as well as Sparky and Pot—who were already quite familiar with them—let out a collective sigh of relief.
The Bugtrapper chefs couldn't help but wipe the "cat sweat" from their brows. It wasn't an exaggeration to say the fur on their heads was soaked, and the fur on their backs was damp with perspiration.
The Glavenus Tribe cats, however, were quite straightforward. The more agitated they had been earlier, the more apologetic they were now. They ran over to apologize on the spot and even offered to help the Bugtrappers to show their sincerity, though the chefs turned them down.
They were mainly afraid that "helping" would just make things more chaotic.
However, through this back-and-forth, the Bugtrappers lost some of their defensiveness and nervousness, continuing their work at the kitchen counter.
Perhaps to avoid being misunderstood as slacking off again, the Bugtrappers put every effort into showcasing their culinary skills—well, it wasn't exactly "complex" skill; it was either roasting over a fire or pan-searing.
Even with the help of Sparky and the others, the Bugtrappers hadn't brought many of their specialty ingredients, so it didn't take long to process everything.
Their methods remained simple: they took the aged meat they had just served to Asterion, sliced it into pieces of varying sizes, and then either seared them over an open flame or flash-fried them in oil before serving.
The quantity was still small—only enough for Asterion to have a taste. But after getting used to the heavy, numbing, and spicy flavors of his usual food, this refreshing taste—which wasn't even the typical "savory" profile—was a great palate cleanser.
"Why does meat taste like grass, meow? And like nuts... it's amazing, meow!" Taking advantage of the fact that they were already good friends, Pot waddled over to the Bugtrappers' counter, his fat belly wobbling. He carefully pinched a slice of meat with his paw, chewed it, and asked.
When he and Sparky had first found these Bugtrappers, the local cats had actually wanted to serve this meat to them. But Sparky had refused—because the Bugtrappers described the meat as so delicious and precious, Sparky wanted them to use it to win Asterion's favor.
If the quantity was scarce, there was no reason for the cats to eat it; it would be a problem if the Big Boss couldn't get a proper taste.
But tasting it now... he hadn't expected this flavor.
"Eh? Why, meow?" The Bugtrapper chef looked confused. "Why? It's just... everyone has always done it this way, meow. We just made it like that, meow."
"You can't explain it, meow? That's okay," Pot said, patting his belly. "The Boss seems to really like this style of meat, meow... Hmm, could it be that a new 'Flavor-Change Season' is coming, meow?"
If you eat heavy food for too long, you have to switch to light flavors, and if you eat light food for too long, you have to go back to heavy—the Glavenus Tribe cats had already mastered this rule. They would periodically change their cooking methods according to the shifts in Asterion's appetite.
"Eh? Flavor-Change Season, meow?" the Bugtrapper chef asked, puzzled.
"You'll find out later, meow. Right now, it's more important to cook for the Boss, meow." Pot waved a paw dismissively. "By the way, there wasn't much of this ingredient to begin with, meow. Why did you shave off the outer layer, meow? Such a waste, meow!"
"Ahhh! The parts we shaved off aren't edible, meow!!" Seeing Pot leaning over to look at the discarded meat skins, the Bugtrapper chef hurriedly stopped him. "They're toxic, meow! You'll die if you eat them, meow!!"
Upon hearing it could kill a cat, Pot immediately dropped the meat skin. He even rubbed his paws against his furry belly just to be safe.
Scary stuff!
"Then we definitely can't give that to the Boss, meow... Uh, can the Boss eat it, meow? Or can't he, meow?" Pot's thoughts were a bit scrambled, but they quickly shifted back to what interested him. "Can you tell me specifically how this meat is made? I can trade you my most precious steak recipe, meow! The one that Big Boss Glavenus loves, meow!"
He looked quite pained; Pot had originally wanted to keep his recipe a secret for his whole life, but learning a new recipe was clearly more important, meow!
"Ex-Exchange recipes, meow?" The Bugtrapper chef was startled, then waved his paws frantically. "No need for that, meow. Every cat in the Bugtrapper tribe knows how to do this, meow. I'll just tell you."
Without waiting for Pot to decline, the chef began explaining.
"First, you have to hollow out a big hole in a tree, meow. It's best at the base of the tree, meow. Underground works too, meow. Anyway, once you have the tree hollow, you have to make a hard lid to cover the entrance, meow. That keeps monsters or little bugs from sneaking in, meow."
"Inside the hole, it has to feel chilly, meow. Your nose shouldn't feel too dry, meow. Anyway, you need that big hole first, meow. The tree hollow we used before had been around for a long, long time, meow!"
"Before, meow?" Pot asked.
"Yeah, because we moved, meow," the Bugtrapper chef said with a shrug. "Even though we know you're good cats now, meow, we didn't know that before, meow. So that big hollow was abandoned, meow."
"It's okay, meow," Pot comforted him. "Once you move back, you can keep using it, meow."
"Yeah! I think so too, meow!" The Bugtrapper chef said happily. "Anyway, once you have a suitable tree hollow, you can continue, meow. You have to wash fresh grass, dry it, and mash it into a paste with various fruits, then smear it all over the surface of the meat, meow!"
"And that's it, meow?!" Pot's eyes widened.
"That's it, meow." The Bugtrapper chef gave a firm nod. "Put it inside, seal the hole tight, and wait for the sun to rise more than forty times, meow! Then you can go check on it, meow!"
"That simple, meow?!"
"It's not exactly simple, meow," the chef sighed. "You have to carefully protect the tree hollow, meow. Although tree sap can keep a lot of bugs out, there are always guys with sharp noses who want to dig it up, meow... And not all the meat turns out well, meow."
"It can fail, meow?"
"Of course it can, meow. Every time, about thirty or forty percent of the meat goes bad, meow."
"That's way too wasteful, meow!" Pot said in disbelief. "Isn't it hard for your tribe to hunt enough food, meow?!"
"That's true, meow, but this is already the best way, meow," the Bugtrapper chef said helplessly. "No one knows how much prey we'll catch each hunt, meow. If we catch a lot of meat at once, we have to find a way to preserve it first, meow."
"Can't you sun-dry it or smoke it, meow?" Pot asked, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he slapped his forehead with a paw. "Sorry, my mistake, meow."
"Hehe, looks like you've tried it too, meow. Not only does it not dry, but it gets moldy, right meow?" The Bugtrapper chef laughed.
"Yeah, so we can only do a little bit near the hearth, meow," Pot said with a sigh.
Unlike the Wildspire Waste, where strips of meat left outside would quickly turn into jerky, the air in the Ancient Forest was neither dry nor scorching. Pot still hadn't forgotten the habits he'd formed when he was younger.
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