The village of Veura had mostly returned to normal, except for the occasional piece of charred ground or the random Void energy sparks popping out of nowhere. Kaion, Raya, and Grin were gathered at the local inn, now named The Hero's Rest in honor of their recent universe-saving exploits. Kaion was trying (and failing) to flip pancakes at their table's portable griddle.
"I don't get it," Kaion groaned, staring at the batter that had somehow turned into a shape resembling a very angry turtle. "How hard can flipping pancakes be?"
"You're attacking them with the spatula like it's a sword," Grin said, smirking. "And you still missed. Twice."
"I'm just adding flair," Kaion said, waving the spatula like a fencing master. "Pancake flipping is an art, Grin. You wouldn't understand."
Raya, munching on a perfectly cooked pancake she had made earlier, leaned back and chuckled. "Your 'art' looks like abstract breakfast destruction."
Kaion tried again, this time flipping the pancake with so much force it flew out the window. A muffled squawk followed. Grin rushed to the window and gasped. "Kaion, you just hit the mayor's pet rooster!"
"Well, it's their fault for having a rooster that can't dodge," Kaion said, shrugging.
Before Raya could launch a sarcastic comeback, the ground trembled. The plates on the table rattled, and a collective gasp went through the inn as a purple energy streak tore through the sky, heading straight for the village square.
"Oh no," Grin muttered, peeking out the window. "Please tell me that's not who I think it is."
Kaion grabbed his sword, his pancake failures forgotten. "If it's Zirak, I'm flipping him like I flip pancakes—badly but with style."
The trio arrived at the village square to find Zirak, the once-terrifying Herald of the Voidbringer, standing in the middle of a growing crowd. He wasn't wearing his usual menacing armor. Instead, he wore a simple robe that looked like it came from the Discount Villain Wear section.
"People of Veura!" Zirak began, his voice booming as always. "I come not as your enemy, but as a humble… pancake enthusiast."
The crowd collectively blinked.
"What?" Kaion asked, breaking the silence.
Zirak sighed, looking uncharacteristically embarrassed. "After my, uh, 'defeat,' I've had some time to think. I realized destruction isn't fulfilling. Pancakes, on the other hand, are."
Grin whispered to Raya, "Did he hit his head on his way down to 'humility'?"
Zirak cleared his throat. "To prove my sincerity, I challenge Kaion to a Pancake-Off! If I win, you must acknowledge my culinary superiority. If you win, I'll… I don't know, leave forever?"
Kaion scratched his head. "This is weird. Even for you."
"Do you accept?" Zirak boomed, pulling out a golden spatula that radiated an unholy glow.
"Let's make this interesting," Kaion said, unsheathing his sword dramatically. "Loser buys the entire village pancakes for a year."
The crowd erupted in cheers.
The Pancake-Off
The square was transformed into a cooking arena, with villagers cheering on either side. Zirak stood at his station, meticulously measuring ingredients like he was concocting a potion. Kaion, meanwhile, was tossing eggs in the air like juggling balls.
"Ready to lose, Zirak?" Kaion taunted, cracking an egg with one hand (and accidentally spilling half of it on the counter).
Zirak didn't respond. His focus was unnerving, like he was channeling Void energy into his batter.
"Are we sure this is just about pancakes?" Grin asked, nervously munching on popcorn.
The competition began, and chaos ensued. Kaion's station looked like it had been hit by a batter tornado, with flour in his hair and a suspicious number of eggshells on the ground. Zirak's pancakes, however, were works of art—perfectly round, golden, and glowing faintly with a mysterious purple hue.
"Those pancakes look… cursed," Raya said, narrowing her eyes. "Can we trust them?"
"They're just pancakes!" Kaion shouted, flipping a lumpy blob that vaguely resembled a planet. "Besides, mine have character!"
When the timer ran out, both contestants presented their creations to the village elder, who had volunteered to judge.
The elder inspected Zirak's plate first. "Flawless. Symmetrical. But… why are they glowing?"
"It's a secret family recipe," Zirak said with a sly smile.
Next was Kaion's plate. The elder frowned, poking at a pancake that jiggled ominously. "This… might still be alive."
Kaion grinned. "It's got heart, doesn't it?"
The elder sighed and took a bite of each. After a dramatic pause, he declared, "The winner is… Kaion!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, and Kaion held up his spatula triumphantly. "Take that, Zirak! The power of mediocre cooking prevails!"
Zirak stared at the ground, defeated. Then he shrugged. "Fair enough. I'll leave… but I'm taking my golden spatula."
As Zirak walked away, Grin asked, "So… what now?"
Kaion smirked. "We celebrate. With pancakes!"