The arena buzzed like an anxious beehive with predictions about the results.
"Bet you 4 silver pieces Elka's in the running!"
"That's nothing--I'll give you my dog if Balen doesn't get in!"
"Balen's gotta get in, he's too cool not to!"
"I can't wait to ask if Luma's gonna sign my shirt!"
"What the he--you can ask the chefs to sign things?"
"For Luma, no. You have to be part of her fan club, and they give her your stuff to sign after competitions..."
"What do you think about Marron?"
"Duskbeast girl? I think she's pretty cool. Maybe I'll eat at her stall later."
"The stall looks kinda bad but the judges said her food was delicious, so..."
Marron felt her cheeks turn hot from people talking about her too. She wiped down her already-clean station. Her hands needed something to do and she'd already organized her equipment thrice.
"Ah, chef stress," Mokko muttered from his perch beside the counter. He had a brittle stick of candied ginger root in his mouth. "Here we have the over cleaning type, despite crushing two rounds."
She turned to Mokko and stuck her tongue out at him. "I didn't win yet!" She smoothed a non-existent crease on her apron.
"What if they were just saying those things because I'm new? What if they returned to their table and regretted what they said?"
"It's not their job to say nice things if you didn't make a delicious dish. Besides, if they hated it, they would've spit it out." He licked a paw. "I doubt they regret anything they said."
Across the arena, the other chefs were riding their own nerves. Elka was demolishing a big bowl of potato chips.
Meanwhile, Balen paced back and forth while flexing his arms at his station. Luma was reading a magazine full of vegetarian recipes and drinking hot tea.
Lucy wobbled up with a tiny flag made of biscuit dough. Her membrane twinkled with sugar sparkles. Marron smiled despite herself. "Did Mokko help you make that?"
The blue slime burbled happily.
Mokko coughed and nearly swallowed his ginger root. "She was trying to stop me from baking the dough. And then did the rest by herself."
Marron chuckled and pet Lucy's head, watching as her fingers sank into her slime body. It was like petting pudding. Her gaze flicked to the crowd, and then stopped.
The first three rows at the stands saw her looking at them.
"There she is," someone whispered. "The parfait girl. That food stall chef."
"She's the one who used memory syrup, right?"
"Made that duck rice dish too…"
Marron's heart caught.
Then—
"MARRON!"
A hat shot up above the crowd. The farmer waved both arms like he was trying to signal an airship. Beside him was the orchard owner, hands cupped to his mouth as he shouted, "That parfait changed my whole week!"
A younger vendor near them joined in. "Her mana fries made my bones feel stronger!"
Far above in the VIP Gallery, the food critic in a velvet dress sat. Her legs were elegantly crossed and her chin rested on one clawed hand. She locked eyes with Marron, smiled, and nodded.
That nod hit harder than the applause.
I might not have people waving banners or wearing shirts of me, but...I have four people who believe in me. I gave them good food and they felt full.
Maybe...I can do this.
She looked at the judges' table, where they were discussing something.
I just hope the judges see it, too...
Her throat tightened. The warmth in her chest felt dangerous. If she let herself believe she could win this time, the universe might take it away. Like how she died in the middle of Earth's greatest cooking competition.
Marron's fists clenched in her apron.
What if I go all in and fail? What if I can't live up to what they saw in me?
Before the fear could settle, the sky ignited.
A swirl of sugar-snap trumpet flourishes and whipped-cream rune-lights spiraled upward. From a ring of blooming petal sparks, Sweet Passion burst onto the central platform in a blaze of velvet, sequins, and sensual menace.
"Oooh, baby," she crooned into her jeweled microphone, "are you ready for flavor, fire, and fate? Because it's time to announce your Final Four! That's right folks--our judges have deliberated and chosen which chefs get to move on to the final round!"
The crowd roared.
A glowing screen unfurled above the stage, shimmering with golden script and swirling stats.
Elka (Forager's Flame) 160 points! | Earthy, Restorative, Hearty Flavor Profile
Buff: (+12 Vitality and Calm)
Balen (RIZZLET'S READY-TO-GO!) 170 points! | Bold, Layered, and Fiery Flavor Profile
Buff: (+15 Strength and +6 Focus)
Luma (The Leaf Artisan) 180 points! | Delicate, Floral, and Balanced Flavor Profile
Buff: (+20 Magic and +8 Mood)
Marron Louvel (Comfort & Crunch) 195 points! | Soulful, Smoky, and Restorative Flavor Profile
Buff: (+15 strength, +10 Stamina, and +5 happiness)
+
Marron stared.
"I'm first?" she whispered.
Lucy did a triple spin. Mokko actually smiled.
Balen paused in his pacing.
Elka tilted her head, impressed.
Luma offered Marron a small, approving nod.
The crowd swelled again—and this time, Marron heard her name! Not as a fluke, but as a favorite.
Maybe I don't have a following like Elka, and I have no idea what Balen does to make his dishes so spicy.
But I do know what comfort looks like. I know how what love tastes like, and I can serve it on a plate.
Sweet Passion struck a pose as golden butterflies spiraled around her.
"Our top four will now battle for culinary glory, a cart upgrade, and…"
She paused.
A dramatic flourish sent wind sweeping through the stands.
"…the coveted Golden Travel Pass to Frostfall!"
Gasps echoed like fireworks.
Marron's mouth dropped.
"And what is in Frostfall, you may ask? Why, Savoria's finest frozen food fair! No fresher seafood than this beautiful snowy city. It's a must-visit for chefs who want to try the best seafood and hot chocolate money can buy." Sweet Passion blew the camera a kiss.
"I like to visit a little cafe called Warm Me Up! The owner's a local, tell him SP sent ya. Maybe you'll get something special from me~" She sipped hot chocolate from a large mug with her face on it, in a sultry pose.
Marron swallowed hard.
Sweet Passion winked. "A trip to Frostfall is more than travel—it's a cool adventure."
Then the lights dimmed to rose-petal pink.
"Finalists," Sweet Passion cooed, "the last round's theme is simple. Make a dish that defines you. The food you'd cook even if no one ever tasted it. Not to impress and not to win. Just to remember who you are."
The ground shifted and the finalists' stations levitated into the air. Spirals of mana-ladders lifted each chef into the Sky Kitchen.
It was a hovering arena brimming with state-of-the-art appliances and floating spice archives. She even saw some beautiful dream-glass prep counters.
Marron stepped onto her platform, the wind catching her curls as her cart clicked into place beside her station. She was breathless with awe—and clarity.
I know exactly what to make.
The screen in her vision flashed again.
[Final Round: A Dish That Defines You]
Objective: Cook from the soul.
Bonus Reward if Victorious: Self-Cleansing Steam Oven – Appliance Tier II
Surprise Modifier Active: Mid-Round Visitor Incoming
Marron stiffened.
"A visitor? Could it be...mom?"
A tangle of emotions rose in her chest. She was in another world. Surely nobody would be coming.
Still, her pulse quickened. She turned toward the ingredients shelf, grounding herself.
Long-grain mana rice.
Crystal-feather chicken thighs.
Starlight sugar and creamy milk.
The Sky Kitchen even had delicate teacups.
An idea began forming in her mind.
Mom's Sunday chicken. Mana rice. And pudding in a teacup.
Simple.
Comforting.
Ours.
She tied her apron and reached for her pan.
Then she whispered it—no longer with doubt, but with quiet fire.
"I'm not holding back anymore."