Chapter 11: The Chaos Cook-Off Begins

OPENING CEREMONY – WELCOME TO CULINARY CARNAGE

The infernal coliseum roared to life with the heat of flame spirits and crowd enthusiasm. At its center stood thirty teams from across the realms: demons in crimson and charcoal garb, glittering elves from Heart Springs, stocky dwarves in soot-streaked aprons, aquatic chefs from the Deep Sea Kingdom, and scattered teams of beastkin faes, and many more races.

The arena pulsed with magic and fire, powered by elemental cores and bound spirits.

Cael stood near the edge, eyes scanning the field. His team of imps was surprisingly calm, probably because they’d been threatened to stay calm.

They wore oversized hats and barely contained excitement (and chaos) behind trembling grins.

A magical puff of smoke exploded center stage. A flaming skull in a tuxedo floated into view, bowing dramatically as the crowd roared.

“WELCOME, CHEFS AND MASOCHISTS, TO THE FIRST INFERNAL CULINARY CARNAGE! I AM YOUR HOST, BLAZE DEFLAMBÉ!”

Cael sighed.

“Of course the host is a talking skull on fire.”

Blaze twirled a cane made of bone and magma.

“Four rounds stand before you! Appetizers, Mains, Desserts, and the Final Signature Dish! At each stage, only the strong, creative, and not-exploded will move forward!”

“Rules!” Blaze gestured to magical script forming in the sky:

* Round 1: Two Appetizers – 60 minutes. One must be demon cuisine.

* Round 2: Three Main Courses – 120 minutes. One must be demon cuisine.

* Round 3: One Dessert – 45 minutes.

* Final Round: One Signature Dish – Anything goes. Impress or combust.

“And before the cooking rounds… there’s the Ingredient Rush! You’ll enter our shared spatial warehouse to gather what you need. Two minutes.

Get out before the portal closes… or stay trapped in limbo until the contest ends. No refunds.”

“Combat is allowed. Killing is not. Dismemberments are fine, just clean up after yourselves.”

A portal of purple lightning opened behind the skull.

“BEGIN THE INGREDIENT RUSH!”

THE WAREHOUSE INGREDIENT ROUND – 2 MINUTES OF MADNESS

The chefs poured into the spatial warehouse.

Cael took one breath. “Focus. We split. Section A for spices. B for meat—WAIT–”

Too late.

A dwarf suplexed a fae into a pile of cursed chili peppers.

A centaur galloped past, dragging two beastkin clinging to her mane, chasing a chicken with six wings and eyes that glowed.

A troll lifted a meat locker and used it like a club to scatter other contestants.

Cael ducked a thrown fish and was nearly trampled by a mermaid flopping across the ice section.

He dove toward a bin of rare hellfire peppers…only to get elbowed by a goblin.

A fireball exploded behind him. A gnome screamed as his ingredients ignited into pink mist.

Cael grabbed a satchel of demonroot and skidded across a puddle of ichor.

“THIS ISN’T A COMPETITION. THIS IS A DAMN WAR ZONE.”

He vaulted over a half-frozen manticore tail and sprinted for the portal.

Seconds before it closed, he dove through, landing hard on stone.

He lay there wheezing, clutching his spices. “Worth it... barely…”

ROUND ONE – APPETIZERS (60 MINUTES)

Cael slammed his satchel on the station. “Go, go, go!”

Imps scrambled with knives and pans, their tiny hands blurs of motion.

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Nearby, chaos reigned:

* A mermaid accidentally bit a live, screaming sea-cucumber.

* A gnome deep-fried his own apron.

* A beastkin team caught their hair on fire. Twice.

Cael swatted an imp trying to use acid as broth. “That’s despair soup, not seasoning!”

Across the arena:

Veydran flambéed raw bread with his sword, laughing maniacally. “I AM A CREATIVE SPIRIT!”

Gribble, his goblin chef, screamed, “STOP. TOUCHING. THINGS. Just… go count spoons!”

The goblin blurred between stations, cooking 95% of the dishes while Veydran twirled in circles or flirted with the air.

Judging time.

Ashara approached Cael’s station. She picked up a demonic mushroom tartlet, examined it with faint amusement, and bit in.

A pause.

Then a nod. “Hmm. this is good.”

Cael’s heart stopped.

“Good. I won’t be incinerated.”

Nine teams were eliminated: One for accidentally summoning a sauce demon, two for food that exploded on contact, and one team whose plate tried to bite a judge.

ROUND TWO – MAIN COURSES (120 MINUTES)

The arena trembled.

Someone’s oven exploded with a lava spirit. Ingredients fled across the floor.

A floating steak moaned in pain as an elf tried to season it.

Cael’s team moved with surgical precision. One imp managed a near-disaster with a boiling cauldron, but Cael deflected the explosion with a frying pan and kicked the imp into a flour sack.

“Coordination, people!”

Veydran tried grilling again…with his sword. Gribble leapt on him, pinning him down.

“For the pride of the Goblin Culinary League,” the goblin hissed, “AND FOR THE LOVE OF THIS KINGDOM, STOP SABOTAGING US.”

Once the chaos ends, it’s time to judge the food again.

Ashara sampled Cael’s main dish: a braised demonbeast flank with soulfruit glaze.

She didn’t speak. But her tail flicked, the corner of her lips curved.

Cael thought

“That’s either good or very good. Or she’s planning something. Please let it be the first two.”

Ten teams remained. Others dropped from exhaustion, magical backlash, or food poisoning caused by breathing cursed steam.

ROUND THREE – DESSERT (45 MINUTES)

It was fast, loud, and slightly horrifying.

Someone mistook cursed sugar for powdered vanilla. The resulting dessert caused rainbow fire to spew from a judge’s ears.

Cael worked on a demonfruit tart infused with hell-honey, dusted with frostvine nectar. Balanced, sharp, and elegant.

Ashara took one bite.

A small smirk. “You’re desserts are improving.”

Cael exhaled. “Great. I hope I can get a break this time”

Veydran sculpted an ice dragon. It collapsed.

Gribble rebuilt it into a candy phoenix using caramel and rage.

FINAL FIVE ANNOUNCED

Blaze Flambé twirled midair. “AND THE FINALISTS ARE—”

* Cael’s Team of Impending Trauma!

* Veydran-Gribble Team: The Explosive Goblins

* Heart Springs Elven Team (with two human alchemists)!

* Golden Rock Dwarf Brigade!

* Deep Sea Culinary Current!

As the crowd cheered, two humans from the Heart Springs team approached Cael.

“Hey! You’re Cael, right?” one of them asked brightly. “How the hell are you surviving in Ashenfall?”

Cael blinked. His face pale. His hands trembled.

“…It’s not as bad as it sounds…”

They raised their eyebrows.

He wilted. “…Okay, it’s exactly as bad as it sounds.”

The second human then grinned. “By the way how was the potion? We helped improve it according to Ashara’s instructions. Did it work?”

Cael teared up. “It got better. I’m just half-dead now instead of mostly-dead. I’ll take it.”

ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE FINAL ROUND

Blaze spun in the air.

“CONTESTANTS! The final round begins tomorrow! No restrictions. Bring your best! Bring your creativity! Or bring your will—you’ll need it.”

“Rest well tonight. Or don’t. It might be your last meal.”

NIGHT SCENE – THE IMPROVED POTION WORKS

The palace loomed. Within, Cael returned to find Ashara lounging, her energy untouched by the day’s gluttony.

She grinned.

“You didn’t die. Excellent. That means… we test the potion again.”

“Already?” Cael whispered. “I thought you were full—”

“Full?” Her eyes glowed. “Please. That was just a tasting menu.”

She dragged him to their chamber.

MUCH LATER

Cael’s hand twitched against the sheets.

Eight hours total.

And this time… he wasn’t half-dead. Just... drained. Breathing. Sweating. Dazed. But alive.

He stared at the ceiling.

"I think I’m evolving. Maybe I’ll survive the finals. Maybe I’ll live long enough to retire. One day. Maybe.”

Then Ashara rolled on top of him again.

Cael whimpered.

“…Or maybe I’ll die a legend…”