Chapter 12: Culinary Armageddon – The Final Round

THE FINAL ROUND BEGINS

The sun burned high over Ashenfall’s grand arena, its magical dome shimmering with protective runes as spectators from every kingdom filled the stands. The energy was electric.

All five remaining teams stood at their stations, surrounded by hovering spirit-cameras and a cheering crowd. The announcer, Blaze Flambé, still the flaming skull in a tuxedo, hovered center-stage.

“Lords and ladies, demons and darlings, welcome to the Final Round of the Grand Ashenfall Culinary Clash! No more rules. No more restrictions. Bring your best, bring your soul, and impress the judges…or perish in culinary shame!”

The Teams:

* Cael’s Team of Impending Trauma!

* Veydran-Gribble Team: The Explosive Goblins

* Heart Springs Elven Team

* Golden Rock Dwarf Brigade

* Deep Sea Culinary Current

Each team was given three hours, magical support barriers, and access to their kingdom’s storage for premium ingredients.

CHAOS IN THE KITCHEN

As the magical chimes rang, all teams dove into their work.

Cael, brows furrowed in grim concentration, focused on a risky dish: Fire-Grilled Dragon Steak with Charred Hellroot Mash and Citrus-Blazed Inferno Veggies.

It’s a reinvention of a human classic, fused with demonic ingredients. His imps followed every instruction flawlessly, even as one screamed when handling the weeping onions.

Occasionally, one of the vegetables exploded. But hey, demon carrots do that.

Cael’s inner thought

“This isn’t a cooking competition. This is culinary Russian roulette.”

MEANWHILE, AT THE GOBLIN STATION…

Gribble chopped mushrooms with terrifying speed while Prince Veydran stood shirtless again, posing beside a sauce pot.

“I shall stir this with passion—”

“Touch that and I’ll stab you with a spatula,” Gribble snapped. “Go polish your swords or something!”

Gribble’s dish was a Goblin Jungle Feast: layered steamed beetle-moss patties topped with fermented mushroom glaze and wrapped in blazing spiceleaf.

“Creativity, culture, and crunch,” Gribble muttered, adding edible flower garnishes with surgical precision.

Then Veydran tossed in some glitter powder “for flair.”

Gribble stared. “I hate you.”

Heart Springs presented a dish of Blooming Spirit Cakes, made of sun-kissed fruit, sweetroot honey, and magical flower petals that shimmered with every bite. Their presentation involved edible vines that unfolded as the cakes cooled.

Golden Rock hammered out Stonefire Meat Medallions served on carved saltstone platters with lava ale reduction. Heavy, hearty, and guaranteed to stop your heart—in a good way.

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Deep Sea’s team crafted a chilled masterpiece: Pearl-Tide Sashimi on iceberg shards, with seaweed-wrapped spice orbs and coral foam.

THE DUEL THAT NEVER WAS

Right as Cael was perfecting his steak glaze, Veydran leapt across the arena.

“YOU! I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!” WE CANNOT SETTLE THIS WITH MERE COOKING!

“Me?” Cael blinked. “I’m plating vegetables.”

Before he could react, a blur of crimson and black streaked through the air—Ashara appeared mid-kick and launched Veydran into a stack of fruit crates on the far side of the arena.

He landed with a wet splatter of nectar and embarrassment.

Gribble didn’t even look up. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Carry on,” Ashara said sweetly, vanishing in a puff of fire.

THE FINAL JUDGING

The judges, including representatives from all five kingdoms, tasted each dish.

Ashara offered no glare this time—just a calm, assessing glance as she tasted each plate.

Cael’s dragon steak was smoky, tender, balanced by the spicy mash and refreshing glaze. One judge gasped.

“A bold fusion of danger and comfort…”

Gribble’s jungle platter wowed others with texture, heat, and insane creativity. Even the elf judge who hated bugs muttered, “Disgustingly delicious.”

Heart Springs’ cakes nearly brought one judge to tears.

“This is what it means to taste home.”

It was close. Too close.

Until the votes were tallied.

Winner: Cael’s Team of Impending Trauma! Due to their creativity and originality of fusing human and demon cuisine.

THE CELEBRATION – FESTIVAL OF FANGS AND FIRE

As the sun dipped, the Trade Fair’s finale erupted into celebration. Tables overflowed with delicacies from all kingdoms: fermented sea slush, spiced rock ale, rainbow truffle pastries, enchanted wines, and fruit-infused demonblood liquor.

Music blasted, horns blared, and magical lights danced in the air.

Even the eliminated contestants celebrated, sparring, drinking, and vomiting in multiracial unity.

Of course, Veydran snuck back in, now wrapped in fruit-scented bandages.

He drank. Then drank more. Then climbed a table and screamed, “I SHALL WIN HER YET!”

What followed was chaos.

An elf noble hit a dwarf with a cake.

A judge arm-wrestled a kraken tentacle.

Someone threw a firework into the fondue pit.

Then came the fireball.

Ashara, tipsy and laughing, hurled it into the crowd—just for fun.

Right then, Gribble’s enchanted cast-iron pan flew from across the arena and accidentally smacked Veydran in the head at the exact same moment the fireball exploded nearby.

He went flying. Again.

Cael fainted in the middle of a food fight, and Ashara immediately summoned a flaming shield around him.

She cackled, electrocuting a merfolk and throwing snacks at goblins.

It was beautiful.

AFTERMATH – THE NIGHT CONTINUES

Hours later, Cael awoke in bed.

Ashara sat beside him, glowing with excitement and residual wine buzz.

“You won. You impressed the judges. You’re mine.”

He groaned. “Please... spare me…”

She kissed him. “New potion. Stronger. Let’s test.”

“...I’m not going to make it,” he whispered as she straddled him.

TEN HOURS LATER

Ashara was curled up, satisfied and glowing.

Cael, eyes hollow, stared at the ceiling like a haunted war veteran.

Ten hours... how...

“…Barely alive,” he whispered.

But I’ll make it. Someday. I’ll survive.