A salty battlefield was created in the castle courtyard as the soy sauce rain fell in heavy sheets.
Cedric Evernight stood firm above Sir Loin, the meatball knight quivering with barely contained energy as he absorbed the falling broth. With every movement, the kitchen knives and forks that had been inserted into his surface as makeshift armor rattled.
"Ready, old friend?" Cedric murmured, patting the meatball's spongy hide.
Sir Loin gave a determined wobble in response.
Above them, Chef Gerard's laughter echoed through the storm, his broth blackened fingers tangled in Dante's living noodle-hair. The young mage hung limp from the twisted strands, his face pale with exhaustion.
"You cannot win!" With a voice full of corruption, Gerard screamed. "The Brotherhood of the Broth cannot be—"
Gerard was hit in the temple with a loud clang as a silver platter spun through the air like a disk!
"Shut up already," Lucien snapped from the sidelines, already reaching for another piece of tableware from his impromptu arsenal.
At that precise moment, Theo's armored brigade, their hollow forms clattering in perfect formation, crashed through the courtyard gates.
Sir Clanksalot led the charge, the Sauce Spoon of Saint Béchamel held above like a holy relic.
"For justice and cutlery!" roared the haunted armor.
The salad fork faction brought up the rear, their spikes twinkling dangerously.
"Equal representation for all utensils!"
Whiskerton watched from above a rain barrel, his tail flicking in amusement.
"About time someone brought proper reinforcements," he remarked to no one in particular.
Despite being decades apart, the twins' footsteps were precisely in time as they moved through the chaos as one.
Seraphina's cutlass flashed as she dodged a flying noodle strand, while Selphina hugged the Jewel of Umami with white-knuckled intensity.
"You're holding it wrong," Seraphina commented sleepily as she decapitated a rogue ramen strand.
Selphina frowned.
"I'm not the one who— look out!"
Her warning came just in time. Seraphina swung around smoothly, her blade slicing through an attacking broth-zombie. The sisters stood back-to-back, breathing heavily.
"...Thanks," Seraphina muttered.
Selphina's grip on the Jewel tightened.
"Don't mention it."
In the nursery window, Evangeline bounced impatiently in her caretaker's arms. Her prophecy mark burned with pent-up energy, the pacifier in her hand glowing like a tiny star.
"Now, sweetheart!" the duchess urged.
With a sound that was equal parts battle cry and baby babble, Evangeline tossed the pacifier with all her might.
The blazing projectile struck Dante's noodle-hair squarely in the middle as it blazed through the rain. The mage's scream of relief was drowned out by the sizzle of cooking pasta as his rebellious locks withered away.
Cedric didn't hesitate.
"Sir Loin, now!"
With unexpected agility, the meatball knight sprang forward, catching the falling Dante just in time to roll right through Gerard's collapsing throne.
The corrupt chef had just enough time for one final, broth-curdled scream before being absorbed entirely.
The aftermath was... messy.
Dante leaned back against a wall in the courtyard and carefully stroked his recently bald scalp.
"I'm never doing magic again," he groaned.
Theo, who was nearby, made an unsuccessful attempt to mediate between the factions of utensils that were still fighting.
"Yes, forks are important too, but can we please focus on rebuilding first?"
Lucien was writing in his ledger already.
"Casualty report: One noodle throne. Three hundred gallons of spoiled broth. And somehow, Chef Gerard's hat survived." He poked the offending headwear with a quill. "It's... blinking at me."
Whiskerton jumped gracefully from his nest and landed next to Evangeline's crib.
"Adequate work," he allowed, eyeing the pacifier that had rolled back to its owner. "Though next time, perhaps less property damage?"
Evangeline responded by popping the pacifier back in her mouth with a satisfied smack.
Everyone in the castle let out a collective sigh as the first real rain in weeks started to fall, removing the last remnants of soy sauce corruption.
Somewhere in the distance, the faint clatter of cutlery could still be heard, along with Sir Loin's contented wobbling as he rolled through the kitchens. His spongy surface was still faintly marbled with the remains of his greatest victory.