The Wielder of Death Magic

“But...” hearing Nole take the responsibility and blame, Ola’s stance grew physical. The anger and injustice rose from within to the point of blowing over. *TSS* and blow did it as the pressure cooker whistled to break the argumentative atmosphere. Smartly holding the hand of the youngling, the head-chef waited through the high-pitch scream.

“Surely my lady, would you have come to a restaurant knowing full well we couldn’t satisfy thy pallet.”

“No, you’re right,” she took a loud stance, “-a man in need of liquor will head to a bar, not a pharmacy. Yet, the thing I want can be made available quite quickly.”

“I don’t follow,” inquired Nole as a crowd of preoccupied chefs rallied behind. The numbers didn’t matter as the Medusa of Cooking seemed to petrify those who dared stare.

“If I might add, didn’t you say that only Chef Leko can suffice thy mouth. Per our teachings here, none would be foolish enough to follow his footsteps.”

“Shut your mouth!” refuted Nole, “-a cook in Leko’s caliber must be given proper respect. Mind thy tongue, Ola, ” the wrath of the patient man flickered to make many shudder.

.....

“I apologize, sir.”

Her ever melancholic stare basking in the fire of anger scanned the whole room, she made contact with young Konoe then refocused onto Nole. “Head-chef,” said she with a softer tone, “-wasn’t there a recruit who joined the cooking staff?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“Head-Chef Nole,” voiced Ki, “-maybe the lady is referring to young Igna.”

“Yes, him,” she smiled, “-bring the boy to the kitchen.”

The tranquil alley rattled as the back door slammed open. The feeding pigeon flapped away, rats screeched as the cat dug its teeth into the pest’s neck. Death was never far thought he dazed by the complex surrounding.

“IGNA!” yelled Konoe.

“Here,” he called hidden behind stacked crates.

“Why are you out here?” came the boy with hands on his hip.

“Went out to get something to drink,” an empty glass bottle of cola dropped into a nearby bin, “-are there more dishes to wash?”

“Are you dumb?” inquired he both in words and actions, the brows were tired, the cheeks pale and the lips dried.

“Did something happen?”

“Yeah,” lamenting the situation inside, “-Lady Lordon came barging in.”

“She’s here?” quick to stand, “-come on, let’s go,” he barged inside.

“There you are,” waved the lady surrounded by angry-looking cooks. “Let me through,” she eased across the crowd to hold the boy’s hand, “-tell me this right now, did you cook anything tonight?” her pleading glance made it hard to pay attention at them behind.

“Egh-”

“-look at me,” she grabbed his focus by force, “-did you cook, yes or no?”

“No, I didn’t,” the head shook with narrowed eyes. “Lady Lordon,” a frown had her quite intrigued, “-why was it you left me out on the airfield?”

“Oh...” playing innocent, “-I don’t know,” the head turned away defiantly.

‘She came across as delicate the first time we met. A dignified lady who rarely spoke and was given the mantle of a mythical being. The chefs aren’t pleased with her arrival. There’s more to her actions, I can feel it, why did she run in here, was it merely a whim?’

“There you have it,” she turned, “-he didn’t cook.”

“Why does that matter,” argued Ola, “-a rookie isn’t supposed to cook upon joining. It’s common practice to wait for acknowledgment,” the hands moved on each word spoken.

“No, that’s where you’re wrong,” she laughed, “-this boy right here is unlike any of the people you’ve trained.”

“Lady Lordon, my patience has run low. Have you come here to insult our ways of cooking or will there be a conclusion to this mishap? The customers outside are waiting for their food.”

“Too bad,” she shrugged, “-they can starve for all I care.”

“LADY LORDON!” voiced the entire cooking staff.

“Hey,” she whispered, “-want to have some fun?”

“What exactly are you planning?” wondered he.

“To get your name out there,” she turned and winked. “Listen up, Chef Nole, upon my name and repute of Master-cook, I challenge your subordinate to battle my pupil here. If he loses, I’ll personally bow my head and apologize. The boy will drop cooking altogether,” the confidence and way of speech made her already fearful name into the description of arrogance.

“A battle?” he paused, “-we’ve spent more than thirty minutes arguing. Let’s treat the guests,” quick to call onto the waiters, the event began right away. Two teams will prepare the same meal for each table, the guests would decide the winner.

“Lady Lordon,” smiled he, “-let’s make this fair. How about its only three members, with us both as the captains,” the pleasures of beating a rival with his hand couldn’t be passed.

“Deal,” she smirked, “-Igna and your friend...”

“Konoe, ma’am.”

“Good, Konoe, where have you trained?”

“The Leko’s cooking academy.”

“Perfect.”

On the opposite side stared Nole, Ola, and Ki. Peculiarly enough, a crew from one of the major channels in Hidros was here to interview up-and-coming stars in the world of music. The commotion downstairs spread throughout the restaurant; each table spoke about it.

“Let’s change location, ma’am,” suggested the cameraman.

“No, let’s wait,” said she with legs crossed. The white-formal vest and dress were fetching. The group sitting across was compromised of four members. Each wore fashionable outfits, the likes of which was flashy and undisputed.

“Ma’am,” came an assistant holding a water bottle, “-it’s the chefs. Lady Lordon, the Medusa of Cooking, and Mr. Nole the Monk are getting readied to do battle.”

“A battle between two renowned chefs is bound to make headlines, come, follow me!” she quit on the idols who but waited patiently.

“Can you believe this?” wondered Konoe, “-I’m getting the chance to cook besides a legend.”

“I know,” said Igna admiring Lady Yuki. Her hair was tied in a high-bun aided by sticks, the sleeves were pulled back with the apron around her waist. The way she flamed the pan and stirred the pot was a dance of elegance. Nole didn’t bow either, the harshness in the way the knife sliced flesh, the way the meat sizzled – the assistants waited with opened mouth.

“Order up,” came a waiter with paper, “-here are the meals.” Two cooking stations went full throttle; the trio of Yuki, Konoe, and Igna clicked as if a well-fitted puzzle. Her technique was gentle and soft while he had perfect control. The scary thing was as perfect as the hand obeyed his orders – he took the liberty of purposefully making mistakes here and there. The explosive nature came from said trait bestowed by Leko. Konoe followed with the ending phase, the dressing of the food was a work of art. One by one, team 2’s plates flew out of the kitchen.

Team 1 with Nole in charge held a few flaws. Ola being the right hand and all was mentally tormented by the prior thrown insult. The food left their corners at a constant rate, still, after a few minutes, the monstrous dexterity of Igna channeled into showmanship of the culinary arts. He took the gathered crowd of spectators by storm, ‘-I got it,’ the mind’s limbo between the conscious and subconscious didn’t affect the team.

‘Good. Not only is the taste unrivaled, but the methodology is also unique. There’s the flare of swordsmanship, just what is your past like, Igna,’ wondered a sweaty Yuki.

The camera swept and recorded the kitchen to the taste test. The hours went on into dessert where Konoe shined.

“We have a clear winner,” said the reporter, “-Yuki Lordon and her team have defeated Chef Nole. There’s no information on the deal between the two – though you can expect little ol’ me to find out.” The tables cheered with light applause and thus the cars left to an empty hall.

“So,” smiled she, “-I’ve won our battle. There wasn’t any condition, call it a whim. Chef Nole, what you made was good, mine was better,” she faced Igna, “-good job. I’m certain you’re a perfect fit to come train by my side. For now,” she held out a hand towards the head-chef, “-take care of him for me.”

“Sure,” no bad-blood remained at the end. The passion shared by rivaling parties surmounted the pettiness of it all. Konoe stood for having held and kept pace with those monsters.

“Good job out there,” said Ola to promptly walk out the back door.

“Nicely done, Igna, Konoe, it’s only the start of greater things to come,” added the Head-chef.

Guild Master Haru smiled across the room as if to say, ‘congratulation’.

“Excuse me,” came a man dressed in a suit, “-what will be of the interview with our band?”

“I do apologize,” said the reporter, “-Star X is very popular with the ladies. Still, a battle between behemoths doesn’t come every day.”

The video of the cook-off made waves across the Arcanum overnight. Many social platforms linked with cooking shared the clip. A demon raging behind the stove with the Viper at his side. The flashy style had many dumbfounded. Needless to say, the boy went viral.

“Yuki, was it all your plan?” the car drove.

“Not really,” she eased onto the window allowing the draft to shake her hair, “-I went with the flow. Lucien, there’s no need for such worries. I’m going to train the boy soon enough – we need the restaurant to be renovated first.”

“Lyoko Igna will return to Leko’s side sooner or later, don’t forget.”

“I’ll make sure he grows to enjoy our company,” and so the duo faded into the ever-stretching roads.

Saturday 7th of April began with the phone ringing constantly.

“Igna, mute the damned thing already,” said a tired Konoe.

“Sorry about that,” the flashing screen between the somber room made it hard on the eyes. *Caller: Unknown*

“Hello?”

“IGNA!” came a familiar voice.

“Who’s this?” asked he still half-asleep.

“It’s me, Jen, have you forgotten already?”

“Jen, did something happen, why call at such an early hour?”

“You don’t sound happy...”

“Obviously not, I’m sleeping, ok, good night,” he cut the call.

“THE AUDACITY,” yelled she inside the half-empty room, “-doesn’t he know about the news?”

“Don’t think so,” said a half-naked Leonard waking beside her, “-I doubt he knows.”

.....

“Come on you two,” came Rena with a disappointed exhale, “-congratulation on being a couple and all, it’s not nice to show-off.” Yuki Lordon wasn’t the only surprise that Friday had in store. A very flustered Jen called Leonard to the roof and proposed, per her words, she couldn’t contain the wallowing sensation. Nothing could have made him happier; it was an immediate yes.

“I can’t believe it,” said Lampard holding a laptop, “-is that the Igna we know?” the video played with millions of views. Spell’s Channel broadcasted the whole event over the Arcanum. “Look at that,” a particular clip showed the boy throwing a knife and catching it with the other hand without turning the head after which he proceeded to slice a tomato. Enthusiast or no, the momentum the clip gathered was tantamount to a raging tsunami. ‘Medusa’s prodigy,’ was assigned as his nickname.

“I don’t care,” said Jen sharply, “-I’m calling again.”

It reached a point where Igna had to shut off the phone to be able to sleep. The reporter responsible for such a find got rewarded handsomely by the channel. The amount of buzz around the clip created a solid ground for growth. Yuki realized the potential and soon contacted Haru to have Igna move inside the walls of the capital.

Leko silently watched the clip and wondered if the decision was wise. ‘Medusa’s prodigy. Will he be able to come back after all this publicity?’ the kitchen resounded silently with the chopping of cabbage, ‘-the future might be more than was bargained for.’