The countdown on the Light Box clicked down relentlessly as the contestants and the crowd chimed together with Lady Seraphina, their voices a unified roar counting the final seconds.
"7... 6... 5... 4..."
Every eye in the Tholus Culinarius was locked on the shimmering numbers.
"3... 2... 1..."
[ ZERO! ] Lady Seraphina's voice boomed, cutting through the last echo. [ Time has ended! Contestants, move your hands away from your stations! The judging shall now commence! ]
All thirty-two contestants moved away from their stations in unison, standing straight as soldiers on parade. Every ounce of focus in the massive dome now shifted to the twelve judges, seated in four groups of three, their expressions a mixture of stern analysis and keen interest.
[ Each pair of competing groups will be judged by one panel of three judges—the finest culinary minds in the empire! ] Lady Seraphina's voice explained, echoing across the silent arena.
[ As you know, each judge will award a score out of ten. The group with the highest combined score out of thirty from their panel will advance to the next round! ]
The contestants moved to stand before their designated judging panels. Ji Hoon's group and Victor's group now stood facing a tribunal that included two formidable-looking female judges and the man Ji Hoon recognized earlier called as Lord Matthew.
Above them, the Light Box divided its colossal screen into four distinct views, projecting the simultaneous judgments happening at the North, South, East, and West stations to every corner of the dome. The entire stadium held its breath, watching four culinary fates unfold at once.
The judging commenced with Victor's group. They approached the judges' table with a towering, gilded sculpture.
"And what do you have here for us?" asked Lord Matthew, his voice echoing in the hushed arena.
"A traditional marzipan sculpture of the Imperial Crest, my lords and ladies," Victor announced proudly, his chest puffed out, his minions standing from behind. "Sweetened with fine Grade B sugar to honor its classic form."
One of the female judges, Lady Cordelia, a renowned patissier from the capital, leaned in to examine the work. "The gilding is meticulous, Contestant. A bold choice to attempt the royal seal."
Her colleague, Dame Evangeline, an expert in traditional confections, carefully broke off a piece with a small tool. The marzipan had a firm, smooth texture. She tasted it, her expression neutral.
"The almond paste is well-ground. The sweetness is potent... perhaps a touch heavy-handed for my palate, but robust."
Lord Matthew sampled his piece, chewing thoughtfully. "The craft is commendable. It is a faithful and skillfully executed reproduction. However, it is a taste we know well. It offers proficiency, but no surprise."
The scores flashed on the Light Box, reflecting their critiques:
Lady Cordelia: 7
Dame Evangeline: 7
Lord Matthew: 8
Total: 22/30.
A solid, respectable score. Victor accepted it with a sharp bow, a smirk of satisfaction playing on his lips as he strode back to his station with his team.
He made a point of catching Ji Hoon's eye as he passed. He had set a high and professional bar. Now it was time to watch the ambitious noble fail spectacularly.
"Next group!" Lord Matthew called out, already turning to his colleagues with a condescending smirk.
"Ah, so the next group are the ambitious ones who reached for the stars with a Grade-S Sea Sugar. Let us see if their creation soars... or crashes spectacularly back to earth."
As Ji Hoon's group stepped forward, the eastern screen of the Light Box shifted, its focus locking onto the dish they carried.
A collective, awestruck gasp rippled through the half of the dome that could now see it.
Lior, Ansen, and Ji Hoon carefully carried the large plate, the croquembouche glowing like a miniature lighthouse upon it, with Yuna following closely behind.
When they laid it upon the judges' table, the judges recoiled for a split second, not in disgust, but from the sheer, unexpected radiance of it.
For a moment, the judges simply stared.
The towering spire seemed to pulse with a soft, internal light, the caramel shimmering like liquid amber and the spun sugar veil glittering like a constellation.
It was a masterpiece of architecture and light. The initial mockery on Lord Matthew's face vanished, replaced by stunned silence.
Lady Cordelia was the first to find her voice, her eyes wide. "By the skies... what... what is this?"
Ji Hoon stepped forward slightly, his posture calm. "It is a croquembouche, your honors."
Dame Evangeline leaned closer, her eyes wide. "A cro-quem-bouche?" she repeated, the foreign word feeling strange and exotic on her tongue.
"Where did you learn to make such a thing? What is that and from what master did you learn this?"
Ji Hoon stepped forward slightly, his posture calm. "It is a tower of pastry, your honors. Individual cream puffs held together by a cement of caramel... crafted from the Grade-S Sea Sugar."
He gave a small, polite bow. "As for where I learned it... let us just say I was inspired by a recipe from a very, very distant land."
The three judges exchanged a look of sheer, unadulterated shock. This was not a crash back to earth. This was something that had truly arrived from the stars.
Lord Matthew composed himself from the initial shock, clearing his throat to regain a stern demeanor.
"Ahem! Anyway," he declared, his voice forcibly serious, "the dish's appearance is secondary. This round is focused on the balance of sweetness—that is the primary criterion for our judgment."
He fixed Ji Hoon with a pointed look. "And since you chose such a notoriously difficult ingredient, we will be holding you to the highest standard."
Dame Evangeline's eyes remained locked on the perfectly caramelized Sea Sugar. The clarity and consistency were flawless—a level of control she, an expert, had rarely seen achieved.
"A practical question," she interjected, her tone laced with genuine curiosity. "Have you used Sea Sugar before?"
Ji Hoon simply offered a calm smile. "No, this was my first time handling it. I hope it is to your liking. My team also had to learn this recipe on the spot, but I am sure it tastes good." He gestured gracefully to the dish. "Please, judge for yourselves."
The three judges exchanged a loaded glance.
'Learned it on the spot? Haha! Are they serious? Even Professionals don't attempt that at a competition' Lord Matthew thought, his skepticism returning. 'Then the execution must be flawed. Such arrogance.'
'Still, we must taste it to judge since it is the rules...' Lady Cordelia reasoned, her resolve weakening as the dessert's magnetic, honeyed aroma enveloped her. 'And this scent... it's utterly irresistible!'
"Shall we proceed?" she asked her colleagues, already reaching for a serving utensil. The other two nodded, each taking a cream puff for themselves.
They carefully picked up the golden profiteroles, using delicate tissues to avoid the gleaming caramel. As they raised the pastries to their mouths, the captivating scent of the Sea Sugar intensified, as if its essence had been concentrated a hundredfold.
"Mmm, I can already tell..." Lady Cordelia whispered, her voice hushed with anticipation.
In near-unison, they took the first bite.
~Crunch-Crunch~
The moment the pastry shattered between their teeth, it was as if a silent war of flavors had been declared upon their palates.
But it was not a war of conflict—it was a perfect, harmonious battle where every element was a triumphant victor.
The first sensation was the crisp, glass-like shatter of the caramel shell, a clean, sweet note that rang through their senses like a clear bell. It gave way instantly to the feather-light, airy interior of the choux, a neutral, buttery canvas that perfectly offset the sweetness.
Then came the climax: the burst of cool, silken vanilla pastry cream. The temperature contrast was genius—the warm, brittle caramel against the chilled, lush cream created a sensation that was both comforting and exhilarating.
"The balance...!" Lady Cordelia gasped, her professional critique crumbling into pure awe. "The sweetness is... it's not overwhelming. It's layered! The Sea Sugar doesn't bludgeon the palate; it elevates it!"
"The technical control is... impossible for a first attempt," Dame Evangeline breathed, her eyes wide. "The choux is baked to perfection—not a hint of sogginess! And the cream... so smooth!"
Lord Matthew tried to form a critical thought, but it was swept away. "More than all of that, the Sea Sugar... it was like handled by a master. From its temperature control to the perfect uncrystallized caramel, it's all perfection."
The flavors crescendoed, and the world of the arena—the roaring crowd, the judging table—simply melted into a faint, distant memory.
A warm, gentle breeze brushed their cheeks. They were no longer judges in a competition.
They were standing at the zenith of a great cliff, the grassy peak soft beneath their feet. Before them, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in blazing strokes of amber, gold, and deep orange. But the true marvel was below.
An endless, shimmering ocean of liquid gold stretched to the edge of the world, its surface perfectly reflecting the glorious sunset above. It was the Sea Sugar, transformed into a vista of pure, serene majesty.
The gentle, sweet breeze was the dessert's aroma; the warm light on their faces was its perfect warmth. The cool cream was the refreshing air at this great height.
It was a moment of profound peace and awe—the feeling of having climbed a great challenge and being rewarded with a view of heaven itself.
The vision faded as slowly as a setting sun. The judges blinked, finding themselves back in their seats. The echoes of the crowd returned. They looked at each other, not as rivals, but as comrades who had shared a profound secret. There were no words.
Lord Matthew, his voice uncharacteristically soft and filled with reverence, was the first to break the silence, his gaze fixed on Ji Hoon.
"This dish is..."
"Sir...!" a clerk attendant whispered urgently, leaning toward the judges' table. "The scores... the crowd is waiting!"
The judges seemed to awaken from a shared dream. With a look of solemn understanding, they picked up their scorecards. As they raised them, the Light Box flared to life, projecting the results for the entire dome to see.
Lady Cordelia: 10
Dame Evangeline: 9
Lord Matthew: 10
Total: 29/30.
For a heartbeat, there was a silence of pure disbelief. Then, the crowd erupted. The roar was deafening, a physical wave of sound that shook the very foundations of the Tholus Culinarius. It was a historic, near-perfect score.
At his station, Victor's face turned a deep, furious purple. His hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. "What...?!" he snarled, staring at the glowing numbers as if they had personally betrayed him. His teammates looked away, ashamed.
In the noble box, Lady Yuhwa shot to her feet, her hands clasped over her heart, tears of pure, unadulterated pride streaming down her face.
Beside her, Madam Ashdown gave a slow, impressed nod. "It seems, my dear, your son does not simply cook... he performs miracles."
A few seats down, Roswald's polished smile was frozen in place, a brittle mask hiding sheer, incandescent rage. His knuckles were white where he gripped his armrest.
Among Lady Vale and her friends, the air was thick with stunned silence. Felicity was the first to speak, her voice a mix of awe and cruel delight. "Well, Vale... it seems your fiancé is a professional cook. How does that feel?"
Lady Vale could only stare, her face pale, her carefully constructed world of status and disdain cracking apart in the face of undeniable, glorious talent.
The arena was in an uproar, and at the center of it all stood Ji Hoon and his team, bathed in the light of a near-perfect score.
The celebration at Ji Hoon's station was electric. Lior had Ji Hoon in a headlock, ruffling his hair, while Ansen beamed, in his own shy way. Yuna stood a step apart, but the proud smile on her face was unmistakable even under her mask.
"We did it! A 29! I can't believe it!" Lior cheered.
But just as the words left his mouth, a second, even more thunderous wave of sound erupted from the crowd, this time from the opposite side of the dome. All heads, including theirs, snapped toward the northern station's screen on the Light Box.
There, displayed in brilliant, undeniable numbers, was another result:
Judge 1: 10
Judge 2: 10
Judge 3: 10
Total: 30/30.
The camera panned to the team celebrating. There stood the purple-haired prodigy, the twin siblings with their unique ocean-blue hair, and Malak, who offered a calm, respectful nod toward Ji Hoon's direction. They had just achieved the impossible: a perfect score.
Ji Hoon's gaze was drawn across the arena, his eyes instinctively locking not on the score, but on the male twin with the ocean-blue hair who was in the front leading them.
A flicker of intense curiosity—and the sharp thrill of a true challenge—passed through him. Only then did his focus shift to the luminous "30/30" blazing beside their team, solidifying their status as his most formidable rivals.
Ji Hoon's smile didn't fade, but it tightened, his eyes sharpening with a newfound, fierce determination. The victory was sweet, but the battle for the top was far from over.