Chapter 285: Golden Ladle Championship: Finale [1]

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Faris’s voice echoed through the massive stadium. However, there was no one in the stands. The seats were empty, and only a handful of staff and officials remained near the stage. He looked at the camera, his usual grin missing.

"Due to special circumstances, the final round of the Golden Ladle Championship will be held without a live audience. We apologize for the sudden change, but rest assured, the competition will continue as planned." He paused, glancing toward the stage. "Now, let us welcome the first finalist, the dark horse of the tournament, our city’s savior... Chef Soren!"

Applause filled the stadium; however, anyone could tell it was fake, a recorded audio being played.

All the cameras turned toward Soren.

’Urgh... Damn it! Why did it have to be like this?’ Faris cursed as he used the chance to take a look at the live stream chat.

[User0290: Urgh! F*ck! Why did they do this?]

[IAmHim: Who cares? As long as it’s happening.]

[RichGuy77: Urgh! Damn! I spent half my money on those tickets! I wanna get a refund! Gimme back my money!]

[User1207: ****! ****! These damn organizers!]

[Beatifull: Let’s report them all! ]

[.....]

’Damn it!’ Faris cursed again as he scrolled, his eyes scanning one curse after another insult. Sure, there were some viewers who were cheering, but they were one in a fifty or so. And some were cheering just to rage-bait the other viewers.

’I shouldn’t have agreed to this!’ Faris regretted his decision. ’Why did I have to agree even when Senior Layla rejected it?!’

[Message: Get back to work!]

’Urgh!’

However, it was too late to back out now.

’At least they’re paying handsomely.’

He consoled himself as the cameras turned back to him.

"Now, let’s welcome the favorite of the competition, a disciple who is planning to surpass his master, Chef Damir!"

The scene repeated itself, the chat growing even more heated, to the point that more than a thousand viewers got banned in just five minutes.

"Now, the final contestant, our mysterious elf chef, lady who stole many hearts with both her beauty and dishes, Chef Nuelia!"

Applause filled the stadium again, but even after a minute, there was no sign of her.

"Chef Nuelia!" Faris called out again. "You can come out now."

"..."

Silence enveloped the stadium again.

Soren and Damir exchanged a glance, each of them confused by the situation.

’Did they lie?’ Soren expanded his perception, scanning the surroundings for their presence. ’No, they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t dare.’

Kidnapping a noble elf was one thing, but kidnapping the princess of the strongest Empire on the continent and not returning her? They would be morons to mess with the Imperial Family like that. No matter how busy the Paragon of Order was, Soren was sure he could spare some time to find his descendant and put those who dared to mess with his family in their place. Even if he wouldn’t, the retaliation from the current Emperor would be enough to wipe them all out.

’They must know that too.’ He squinted. ’So they will likely use her as a bargaining chip, and release her when the time is right. Or they already planned to return her from the start, knowing that holding her too long would bring the full might of the empire down on them. They need her for something specific, something we don’t know yet...’

’As for Lady Nuelia...’

He wasn’t completely certain. After all, they knew little about her and had no idea of her true nobility or the strength of her background.

’Let’s hope they will stick to their words.’

Just as the thought crossed his mind, the air above the stage rippled. A tear of light split the space, widening into a shimmering portal. The few staff members froze, and Faris’s voice cut through the silence.

"What’s happening?! Is this part of the show?!"

Soren and Damir both tensed.

The guards near the edge of the stage reached for their weapons. Everyone watched as a figure stepped through the portal, staggering slightly as her feet hit the ground.

"Oh! Is that... Chef Nuelia?!" Faris exclaimed, leaning over his platform to get a better look. "It’s really her! Thank goodness! I thought she-wait! Why does she look so pale?! Did something happen to her?"

"Lady Nuelia!" Soren reacted quickly and moved toward her, crossing the distance in a few strides to catch her before her knees gave out.

"Are you ok?" He asked as he checked her condition. Her face was pale, her breathing uneven, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on her brow. Whatever she had been through, it had clearly taken a toll on her.

However, he also didn’t forget to use the Advanced Appraisal to get a good look at her condition and confirm whether it was really her.

’Hmm...’ As he scanned the system while taking out health and vitality potions from his inventory, his hands froze for a moment before quickening. "H-Here, drink this!"

"M-Mr... So... ren?" Nuelia muttered weakly, her eyes struggling to focus on him as he helped her drink the potions.

"That’s right, it’s me," Soren replied, watching as color slowly returned to her face and her breathing steadied as the effects took hold. "You’re safe..."

"T-Thank... you..."

"It’s nothing, just relax and take it easy now..." His voice trailed off, and he fell silent, his mind racing as he held her steady. ’It worked...’

Actually, her condition was far worse than it looked. She was completely out of mana, and her life force was dangerously low. If he hadn’t used the Sovereign Vitality Elixir just now, the consequences would have been severe.

’Just what did they do to her?’ Soren’s eyes narrowed as he looked toward the portal. He could somehow sense there were people behind it. ’...’

"Ahem! Ahem! Oh, it’s working." Faris tapped the mic a few times, as if he was using it for the first time. "Ahem. Ladies and gentlemen, forgive the slight technical hiccup! As you can see, Chef Nuelia has been safely returned to the stage, courtesy of our... distinguished unexpected guests. And I received word that we have another contestant joining us in the final round!"

’!’ Soren’s eyes widened as he looked toward the broadcasting platform. ’Is it him?! No, it must be him.’

Even though he sounded and acted like Faris, Soren knew it was the possessor guy.

’Then...’

His gaze shifted toward the portal as three figures stepped out, the atmosphere changing in an instant.

On either side stood a figure draped in long, hooded garments that concealed every inch of their features, casting deep shadows over their faces. Between these two shrouded companions walked a remarkably handsome youth. With immaculate blonde hair and an almost flawless face, he moved with an unbothered grace, as if he owned the stage.

"And there he is! A young gentleman who clearly needs no introduction, radiating an effortless perfection that captures the entire arena’s attention! We are truly blessed to have someone of his magnificent stature participating today!" Faris, the fake one, started clapping enthusiastically into his mic. "Just look at him! Look at that posture! That flawless complexion! A true diamond among stones, folks! You can practically feel the overwhelming majesty radiating from his very presence! An absolute prodigy of our era, stepping into the ring purely to grant us the honor of watching him work!"

Faris kept glazing until the young man looked in his direction with an annoyed stare.

"Give it up for the best chef in the continent, and the future best chef in the whole world," Faris exclaimed with a dramatic gesture, "Chef Lucent!"

Clap-! Clap-!

Faris and the two figures accompanying the young man clapped with enthusiasm. In fact, they were the only ones doing it; even the fake applause audio wasn’t being played.

"..." Faris abruptly stopped, staring at the cameras coldly. "I said, give it up."

A beat of quiet passed.

"WHOOO!"

"CLAP-!"

The speakers suddenly flared, unleashing a wave of deafening applause and cheering that flooded the entire arena.

"Hehe, now that is more like it." The bright smile instantly snapped back onto Faris’s face as if it had never left.

The applause continued for a whole minute before Faris stopped it.

"Now then, esteemed contestants, please take your respective cooking stations!" He paused, turning to the organizers with a raised hand. "And if you’d be so kind, prepare another one for Chef Lucent. We can’t have our guest of honor standing around empty-handed, now can we? And be quick; don’t keep us waiting."

He then turned his gaze back to the stage. "Now, two gentlemen, will you help the other two contestants ’get ready’ for the final round?"

The two hooded figures nodded and started moving.

"And Mr. Soren and Damir." Faris addressed the two, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. "If you don’t want any unnecessary complications during this grand showcase, I recommend not showing any resistance and letting the two gentlemen do their work."