Reign Voltagrave stood on the balcony of his manor, a cup of rare, single-origin tea steaming in his hand. The sun was rising, casting a golden glow over the pristine Aethertaste campus. For three days, his plan had worked perfectly. For three days, the Hearthline Guild had been choked, starved of the very scraps that fueled its pathetic existence. He had expected news of their collapse by now. Whispers of their disbandment.
Instead, he was met with the campus's newest, most baffling phenomenon.
Students were walking to their morning classes, munching on what looked like golden-brown breadsticks. They were trading them, buying them from enterprising students who had received them from night-worker family members. A small, illicit economy had sprung up overnight around this new snack. They were calling them "Treasure Sticks."
Reign's lip curled in disgust. It was undoubtedly the Garbage Chef's latest creation. But how? From where had he procured the ingredients?
His second-in-command, a sharp-featured boy named Lancel, approached, holding a tablet. His face was a mask of disbelief.
"Sir," Lancel began, his voice strained. "We have the… ah… the ingredient analysis report."
"Report," Reign commanded, not turning from the balcony.
"The fats were a complex blend, primarily rendered pork and poultry lipids with traces of… olive and vegetable oil. The spices are… inconclusive. Our machines detected over thirty distinct flavor compounds, most synthetic, consistent with two-dozen brands of mass-market snack foods. The carbohydrate base appears to be primarily twice-baked, rehydrated bread gluten." Lancel paused, then took a deep breath. "Sir… the only logical conclusion is that the ingredients were sourced from… general student waste disposal."
Reign's hand tightened on his teacup, the fine porcelain groaning under the pressure.
He turned slowly, his eyes burning with a cold, incredulous fury. "He cooked with trash? Not kitchen scraps. Literal, common trash?"
"It appears so, sir," Lancel said, swallowing hard.
Reign was speechless. The audacity. The sheer, filthy, unadulterated insanity of it was beyond his comprehension. He had built a fortress to guard the castle's garbage, only for his enemy to start mining the village cesspit for gold. It wasn't just a defeat; it was a humiliation on a philosophical level he had not thought possible.
"Furthermore," Lancel continued, his voice trembling slightly, "Ciela Vantablue's stream from last night… it's surpassed ten million live viewers. It's the most-watched culinary stream of the year. In it, she details their entire 'harvesting' process. She's rebranding him from the 'God of Garbage' to the 'Urban Alchemist.' The public… they love it. The story of turning waste into treasure is… resonating."
CRACK.
The teacup in Reign's hand shattered, spraying hot tea and sharp ceramic shards across his immaculate uniform. He didn't even flinch.
His plan had not just failed. It had backfired in the most spectacular way imaginable. He hadn't starved Izen. He had liberated him. He had untethered him from the academy's food chain entirely and forced him to invent a new, self-sufficient, and wildly popular form of cuisine.
He was no longer just the leader of the academy's outcasts. He was now a folk hero.
At that moment, Reign's tablet chimed. An urgent notification from the Dean's office. He tapped on it. It was a campus-wide memorandum, sent to every student and faculty member.
FROM THE OFFICE OF DEAN TETHYS QUIRIN
SUBJECT: Introduction of a New Campus-Wide Initiative: 'Project Phoenix'
"In light of recent, inspiring innovations in the field of Total Ingredient Utilization, Aethertaste Academy is proud to announce a new mandatory program for all students, effective immediately.
Project Phoenix will establish official 'Culinary Salvage Stations' outside every dormitory. All food-related waste (wrappers, containers, peels, crusts, etc.) is to be separated and deposited at these stations.
This 'Phoenix-Grade Material' will then be collected daily and made available as official, alternative ingredients for any student or guild wishing to practice the emerging art of 'Reclaimed Cuisine.'
Let us celebrate this new frontier of culinary creativity, born from the spirit of wasting nothing. Let us see what treasures can rise from the ashes of what we once considered trash."
Reign read the memo once. Twice.
The blood drained from his face.
It was a masterstroke of political jujutsu. The Dean hadn't just acknowledged Izen's methods; he had legitimized them. He had institutionalized them. He had turned Reign's attack into official academy policy that benefited the very person he was trying to destroy. The Dean had seen Reign's pathetic little dam and had decided to divert the entire river into Izen's garden.
The memo was a public coronation of Izen's philosophy and a slap in the face to the elitist principles of Voltagrave and his allies.
Reign stared out at the campus, at the students eating their "Treasure Sticks" in the morning sun. His vision was blurry with rage.
The garbage chef. The urban alchemist. The clown.
He had not only survived. He had thrived. He had won. And he had done it without ever raising his voice, without ever issuing a challenge, without even acknowledging Reign's existence. He had won simply by being himself.
It was the most profound insult Reign had ever received.
"Lancel," Reign said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Cancel the 'Total Utilization' program. It's irrelevant now."
"Sir?"
"And send a message to the Velvet Palate Society," Reign continued, his eyes turning to cold, hard chips of ice. "Tell them I am prepared to fund their next Grand Symposium. I have only one condition."
He looked at the distant roof of the Hearthline Guild, a building that was now, unbelievably, the epicenter of a campus-wide revolution.
"The theme of the symposium will be 'Purity.' And I want a formal, binding duel against Izen Laxon, judged by the most ruthless traditionalists in the world. No more tricks. No more sentimental stories. We will force him to cook with perfect ingredients, in our arena, by our rules. And we will expose him for the charlatan he is, once and for all."