The day after the Harvest Festival, Crescent Town still buzzed with stories of food.
Merchants on every corner spoke of "the chef whose flame sang," children mimicked Luna's serving dances, and even the mayor bragged that his town had the best cook in the realm.
Inside the Crescent Moon Inn, the team sat around breakfast — their first quiet moment in days.
Bruno yawned, stretching his massive arms. "If I see another Moon Pepper, I'll scream."
Mina poured tea with a smirk. "You said that yesterday. Then you stole one for a midnight snack."
Kiro grinned shyly. "Chef, everyone's talking about you! I heard a minstrel singing a song about the 'Fire-Handed Cook.'"
Luna gasped. "You're famous!"
Ethan sipped his tea calmly. "Fame's seasoning. It shouldn't be the main dish."
Maris raised an eyebrow. "You say that now, but our mailbox is full. Nobles, guilds, even the Royal Academy of Gastronomy sent a letter."
Luna grabbed the stack eagerly. "Oh! This one has gold trim!"
Bruno whistled. "Someone's fancy."
She unfolded it and read aloud:
> To the esteemed Chef Ethan of Crescent Moon Inn,
You are cordially invited to present your art at the Royal Banquet of Dawn City.
The room fell silent.
Kiro blinked. "The royal banquet? Isn't that where all the legendary chefs compete?"
Mina's voice dropped. "And where careers are destroyed if they fail."
Ethan just smiled faintly. "Then we'll take our time deciding."
Before anyone could reply, the front door banged open.
---
A tall man strode in — dressed in a crimson chef's coat embroidered with Spirit symbols, his long hair tied neatly behind him.
His presence alone turned heads; even the Infernal Stove's flame flickered as if recognizing a rival fire.
Luna whispered, "Who… is that?"
Maris's eyes narrowed. "Not a customer. Look at his crest."
On his shoulder gleamed a golden badge — the emblem of the Spirit Chef Association, the highest culinary guild in the kingdom.
The man stopped before Ethan's counter, smiling sharply. "So you're the one everyone's been talking about."
Ethan wiped his hands calmly. "Depends who's talking."
"I am Rael Vermund," the man said. "Top-ranked Spirit Chef of Dawn City. And I've come to test the rumors myself."
Luna blinked. "Test? Like, taste test?"
Rael's smile didn't reach his eyes. "No. Challenge."
---
The room tensed.
Bruno set down his mug. "You're challenging our Chef? Here?"
Rael nodded. "A public Spirit Cook-Off. You and me. My Spirits against yours. Winner earns the title of Crescent Town's Culinary Master."
Luna sputtered. "You can't just walk in and—"
Ethan raised a hand, stopping her. "Alright."
Rael's smile widened. "Confident. Good. Let's begin tomorrow at noon — in the town square. I'll provide the stage."
"Fine," Ethan said. "But we use ingredients from the market. Nothing imported."
"Agreed," Rael said smoothly. "Bring your best flame."
Then he turned and left, cloak fluttering, leaving behind the scent of smoke and challenge.
---
The inn exploded in noise.
Luna nearly shouted, "Chef! Are you crazy?! He's a certified Spirit Chef! They say his cooking literally commands wind!"
Bruno cracked his knuckles. "Then we'll make sure his wind doesn't blow out your flame."
Mina frowned. "Rael Vermund… he's known for aggressive dishes — Spirit-storm sauces, explosive flavors. He overwhelms his opponents."
Ethan leaned back slightly, calm as ever. "Then I won't fight him."
Luna stared. "But— he challenged you!"
He smiled. "I'll just cook."
---
The next morning, the town square filled again — twice as crowded as the festival.
A wooden stage stood at the center, two cooking stations gleaming in the sun.
One engraved with the mark of the Spirit Chef Association, the other with Crescent Moon Inn's simple crescent emblem.
Banners waved, drums sounded, and the mayor's voice boomed over the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Today we witness a duel of flavor! The pride of Dawn City versus the heart of Crescent Town!"
Rael stood tall, his flame-blue Spirit hovering beside him like a roaring wolf.
Ethan, by contrast, looked almost ordinary — apron neat, expression calm, the Infernal Stove's golden flame quiet beside him.
"Begin!"
---
Rael moved instantly — his Spirit wolf howling as wind swirled around the station. Knives flew through ingredients, pots clanged, and sauces blazed with shimmering blue energy.
His dish: Tempest-Steamed Skyfish with Spirit Pepper Reduction.
The crowd gasped at every move. Even Luna leaned forward, whispering, "That's… intense."
Ethan started slower. He took his time washing each ingredient, cutting quietly, stirring with unhurried care.
No flashy Spirit magic, no dancing flames. Just rhythm — patient, steady, precise.
Maris watched closely. "He's letting the world slow down."
Bruno nodded. "Classic Ethan."
Ethan's dish: Hearth-Seared River Trout with Garden Herb Cream and Moon Rice.
Simple. Elegant.
As the final moments approached, Rael's station glowed with raw power — storms swirling in miniature.
Ethan's flame, by contrast, pulsed softly, almost tender.
When they plated, the difference was stark: one dish demanded attention; the other invited it.
---
Judges stepped forward — the mayor, a food critic, and a Spirit Guild envoy sent by Selene herself.
They tasted Rael's dish first.
A rush of flavor hit instantly — sharp, electric, overwhelming. The crowd gasped at the power.
Then Ethan's.
At first, quiet. Then warmth spread through their expressions — like comfort, sunlight, and memory all at once.
No spectacle. Just peace.
The mayor blinked, tears welling unexpectedly. "It… tastes like coming home."
Silence fell.
Then thunderous applause.
The verdict was clear.
---
Rael stood frozen as the cheers rose around Ethan.
For a moment, pride and disbelief battled in his eyes. Then he laughed softly — bitter but honest.
"You really don't fight, do you?" he said.
Ethan smiled faintly. "Only hunger."
Rael exhaled, the storm fading from his Spirit. "I'll remember that."
He extended his hand.
Ethan took it.
The crowd erupted again.
---
That night, the inn glowed with celebration.
Luna danced around the tables, Bruno served mugs of cider, Kiro beamed with pride.
Mina toasted with Maris. "He did it. He actually did it."
Ethan just smiled quietly, polishing his knives. "Tomorrow, we cook again."
---
Far away, in the Spirit Guild's main hall, Selene placed another report on the elder's desk.
"Result: Ethan — victorious. No Spirit interference detected. Resonance purity remains unmatched."
The elder closed his eyes. "Then the storm begins."
Selene frowned. "Storm?"
He looked out the window at the moonlit sky. "The Royal Banquet is three weeks away. And now… every chef in the kingdom will be watching him."