The stakes couldn't have been higher.
"Good! It's a deal!" Baccarat, fearing the other party might back out, immediately agreed. "The time is noon tomorrow! The place will be the square of Lord Jalmack's villa! I want everyone on the island to witness how you lose like a dog!"
With that, Baccarat stormed off. He needed to immediately arrange this public execution. He would make this Shokugeki another pinnacle of his fame.
The news spread like wildfire throughout the Island of Splendor. The gimmick of a Celestial Dragon's personal chef dueling a mysterious young cook instantly ignited the gossip-loving souls of the upper class. To them, this wasn't a duel at all, but an amusing performance—a play about arrogance and destruction.
The next day at noon, the square at Saint Jalmack's mountaintop villa was already packed with people. In the center of the square, two extravagantly luxurious cooking stations had been set up—one made of solid gold, the other of cast silver.
The Celestial Dragon, Saint Jalmack, sat on a high, jewel-encrusted throne, wearing his signature bubble helmet and looking down with an air of boredom. Beside him stood rows of expressionless bodyguards in black suits, as well as the king and ministers of the Prosper Kingdom.
Baccarat, dressed in his most magnificent chef's uniform, ascended the golden cooking station to a roar of cheers. He was like an emperor about to be crowned, basking in the attention of the masses.
Ren, on the other hand, simply wore a clean, plain short coat and silently walked up to the relatively modest silver cooking station. Behind him stood Rocks, Gatz, Silver, and Dolum, looking completely out of place, like a group of barbarians who had stormed into a palace.
"Gahahaha! What a spectacle! You'd think it was a public execution!" Gatz laughed boisterously, shouldering his anchor.
"Quiet down. Don't disturb the Head Chef," Silver reminded him in a low voice.
The theme of the Shokugeki was soon announced, casually chosen by Saint Jalmack: "Light."
It was an extremely abstract and difficult theme.
Upon hearing it, a confident smile spread across Baccarat's face. This was his area of expertise! Baccarat clapped his hands, and his assistants immediately brought out a huge crystal tank. Inside swam a strange, fluorescent deep-sea fish—the Phantom Light Eel. Next came glowing mushrooms, spices that could create a starry trail in the dark, and an entire chest of gold leaf and diamond dust. He was going to create a dish that was, from ingredient to presentation, literally radiant.
In contrast, Ren's station had only a few ordinary items: a bag of flour, a few eggs, some milk, and a basket of the most common red berries, which could be found anywhere on the island.
Seeing this, the audience burst into laughter.
"He wants to make 'light' with that? Is he trying to make a pancake?"
"Looks like he's already given up. How pathetic."
Baccarat just snorted contemptuously, not even bothering to look at Ren again, and began his flamboyant performance. He used a jewel-encrusted knife to prepare the Phantom Light Eel, each cut drawing gasps of admiration. He injected the juice of the glowing mushrooms into the fish, making it even more brilliant. Baccarat's movements were full of showmanship, flashy and vain.
Ren, however, simply and quietly mixed the flour, eggs, and milk, kneading the dough. His movements were not fast, but each one was rhythmic, as if he were not kneading dough but communicating with the life in his hands. He divided the dough into several portions and let them rest. Then, he began to process the red berries, crushing them and filtering out the pure red juice with a fine cheesecloth.
Time ticked by.
Baccarat's dish was the first to be completed. It was a creation called "Deep Sea Starlight." The Phantom Light Eel was grilled to perfection and placed on a black plate. The fish itself emitted an ethereal blue light, and it was garnished with a glowing mushroom sauce and diamond dust, resembling the Milky Way in a deep night sky. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
When the dish was presented, the crowd erupted in thunderous applause. Even Saint Jalmack showed a rare flicker of interest.
At this moment, Ren had just placed his proofed dough onto a frying pan.
Tssssss—
The plain, simple sound was a stark contrast to the brilliant light and sound effects from Baccarat's station.
Soon, Ren's dish was also ready. It was just a few ordinary, golden-brown pancakes, served with a small dish of red berry sauce on the side. It was simple, plain, and even a bit shabby. Compared to Baccarat's "Deep Sea Starlight," it was like a firefly next to the bright moon.
The laughter grew louder.
"It's over. No suspense at all."
"That's what you get for being arrogant."
The smile on Baccarat's face was one of extreme triumph.
However, the very instant Ren drizzled the red berry sauce onto the steaming hot pancakes, something extraordinary happened.
The warm pancakes seemed to possess some kind of magic. The moment they came into contact with the seemingly ordinary berry sauce, an indescribable, warm, and gentle aroma suddenly burst forth!
It wasn't the scent of food. It was... like the smell of the first ray of sunlight piercing through the clouds at dawn, falling upon the earth. It was warm, pure, and full of hope.
This aroma, like an invisible hand, instantly soothed the restlessness, arrogance, and vanity in everyone's hearts. The raucous laughter died down. Everyone was stunned, greedily sniffing the soul-purifying scent in the air.
Saint Jalmack's body jolted. Through his bubble helmet, he stared intently at the plate of plain pancakes. "This... this is..."
Ren picked up his creation and said calmly, "My dish is called 'Dawn'."
He didn't present it to the judge. Instead, he walked to the edge of the square, to a little girl in rags who was begging, and handed her the plate. "Eat."
The little girl timidly took the plate, picked up a warm pancake, and took a small bite.
The moment the pancake entered her mouth, a light suddenly burst forth from her cloudy eyes. It wasn't an illusion; it was real light!
Two streams of hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She seemed to see her long-dead mother, smiling at her in a sunny wheat field. The ultimate deliciousness and warmth had awakened the brightest, most cherished memory deep within her heart.
"Mama..."
The little girl's cry was like a heavy hammer, striking everyone in the heart. All the nobles, all the guards, even the high and mighty Celestial Dragon, stared blankly at the scene. They felt something from that plate of pancakes that they had never possessed—true light.
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