The judges began tasting the bubble milk tea. The duchess, however, still hesitated to use the straw.
"Your Majesty, this is far too unrefined. Are you truly going to drink it like that?"
"Enjoying good food is never shameful, no matter how you do it. Look at the duke."
Queen Ainasse spoke with calm authority. The duchess turned to her husband, who was happily chewing on the pearls.
"Yuni, this is delicious."
"...Your Majesty, I was being foolish."
Seeing that even her husband had completely given in, the duchess abandoned her resistance and decided to give it a try.
Then the young viscount picked up his microphone and addressed me.
"Mr. Karen, you said this drink is called bubble milk tea. Why did you name those black spheres "pearls"?"
"Because once they're cooked, they resemble black pearls with a smooth, glossy surface."
"I see. The pearls are soft and chewy, almost like candy, and the sweetness of the milk tea brings a sense of delight. After one sip, you can't help but want another."
"There's a generous amount of pearls, too—it's a pleasant surprise every time. You never know how many you'll draw up with each sip. I quite like that feeling."
"I believe this is a successful beverage. The pearls add a layer of texture to the milk tea we're so familiar with. It's like a storybook—adding illustrations to pages of text makes it far more engaging."
The duke and duchess gave their usual style of commentary, but it was clearly positive. Then it was Queen Ainaser's turn—the one who always found something to question.
"Karen, the bubble milk tea is good. But the pearls are something you eat. How are they related to a drink?"
"If you separate the pearls and the milk tea, then they aren't related. But once you combine them into one, it becomes a drink."
Only after I said it did I realize how rude it might have sounded. I didn't know how else to explain it—bubble milk tea was classified as a drink, after all.
Wait… is she going to get angry?
She stared at me without blinking. The viscount, the duke, and the duchess all grew visibly tense, exchanging uneasy glances.
And then—I felt a yawn coming.
I couldn't stop it. I moved the microphone aside, covered the lower half of my face with the hand holding my cap, and let out a long, comfortable yawn. Then I brought the microphone back.
"Sorry."
Queen Ainasse looked slightly irritated, but she couldn't show it in public. She forced herself to hold it in.
"...Very well. Bold, indeed. Lord Arakeya, once you've finished, please say a few words."
She set the microphone down with a faint smile, tapping the table in quiet displeasure. I decided not to dwell on her reaction and turned my attention to the general.
He set his cup down, took a deep breath, and lifted the microphone.
"Let me tell you about when I was around three years old. Back then, all I knew was hunger meant eating meat, and thirst meant drinking from rivers. But one day, I encountered a human man and woman. To gain my favor, they searched everywhere for ingredients, hoping to make bubble milk tea for me. At that time, ingredients were far rarer and more valuable than they are now. Waste and greed were unacceptable. In the end, they made a much smaller—and frankly worse—version than this. But to me back then, it tasted wonderful. That drink was what first sparked my interest in food. Unfortunately, I never learned how to make it. I spent hundreds of years searching for them or their descendants, but found nothing. Eventually, I gave up. Later, when I came to this country to rest, I discovered that its cuisine was more delicious and diverse than any other. Yet, even here, I couldn't find the bubble milk tea I remembered. Still, I saw great potential in this nation's creativity. I thought perhaps, one day, someone here would recreate it. That was the origin of the Food King Tournament."
So in short, the general had tasted bubble milk tea before—and this entire competition existed because of it.
That nostalgic look he gave earlier… I was probably a finalist now.
Still, he'd revealed quite a bit. Was he an ancient dragon or a modern one? I'd say modern.
Ancient dragons were massive from birth, growing to the size of Samidoride within months before stopping. Modern dragons, on the other hand, were born as small as human infants and grew endlessly over time.
If he had been as large as Samidoride at three years old, then the portion size of the drink wouldn't have mattered…
Wait. Dragons can take human form, right?
That completely ruins my theory.
I wanted to ask, but this wasn't the time.
As for the origin of the tournament… the general had already achieved his goal. Was he going to leave?
At that moment, Queen Ainasse looked at him with a hint of sadness.
"Lord Arakeya… congratulations on finally achieving your wish…"
She spoke quietly, her tone subdued. It seemed she had reached the same conclusion.
She was afraid he would leave. Without him, the nation would lose its protector. Yet she had no power to stop him—only to accept it.
Then the general smiled gently, his imposing aura fading. He looked at her like a grandfather would a granddaughter.
"Kejellari, don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. With delicious food every day, why would I leave?"
"Thank goodness… Without you, I don't know what would become of Dilibrash."
The moment she heard his answer, Queen Ainaser's expression brightened instantly. Her composed demeanor slipped, revealing something almost childlike beneath—though her words remained practical. Those nearby looked slightly stunned.
Still… couldn't they have this conversation later?
Could we just finish the evaluation and let me go?
I glanced at the host and gestured subtly, asking if I could leave. He caught on immediately and bravely broke the warm atmosphere.
"Um, esteemed judges—do you have any further questions for Mr. Karen?"
"Of course. How did you come up with bubble milk tea?"
That question from the general was dangerous.
But I already had my answer prepared.
First, I put on a troubled expression, avoiding eye contact, my lips parting slightly—as if debating whether to speak.
After a few seconds, I took a deep breath, as though I had made up my mind.
"...To be honest, bubble milk tea wasn't my idea. I read about it in a book."
I never intended to hide that it wasn't my invention. Making up a convincing story would be harder than just telling the truth—with a small, unverifiable lie mixed in.
Besides, the general wouldn't disqualify me. If he missed this chance, he'd never learn how to make bubble milk tea.
He smiled in satisfaction.
"I have no further questions."
"Then it's my turn. Karen, the age-measuring device has arrived. Take out Samidoride's magic core."
Right—I had forgotten about proving my identity.
When had they even brought that thing in?
A large device had been placed between me and Queen Ainasse.
Then I remembered—storage magic wasn't allowed during the competition. I almost disqualified myself.
I spoke into the microphone.
"The competition is still ongoing. Am I allowed to use storage magic?"
"Once your dish has been submitted, you may use it."
"Understood."
With permission granted, I opened my storage space and took out the magic core—about the size of an adult human—and placed it on the device.
4168 years.
Then came the confirmation.
Queen Ainaser stood and declared loudly,
"Excellent. It is indeed the hero himself."
"WOOOOOO!!!"
With just that one sentence, the audience immediately accepted it and erupted into cheers.
I put the magic core away. The queen then turned to the other judges and asked,
"Duke, Duchess, Viscount—any further questions?"
"None."
The duchess answered, while the duke and viscount simply shook their heads.
The queen sat back down and looked to the host.
"Host."
He nodded and resumed.
"Thank you, esteemed judges, for your evaluations. Mr. Karen, you may step down."
I returned the microphone to the staff. The host then came over and said,
"Mr. Karen, we'll return your cups to you later."
That was standard procedure. Since the cups belonged to the contestants, they were returned after evaluation. They weren't returned immediately to avoid discouraging participants if the judges didn't finish their drinks.
But I didn't need them back.
I had made those cups specifically for this.
"No need. Please give them to the judges. They'll be useful."
With that, I turned and walked back to my station to pack up.