Terrifying Contest

"Kekeke!"

"I'll become the best chef of our sect." An immortal wearing a long conical white hat spoke with arrogance. 

"Heh, we'll see about that. I've been pouring my heart and soul into this craft for five long decades." Another cultivator smirked in disdain. 

"I'll show you my three-dimensional vegetable cutting slash. The taste of all ingredients gets a 20 percent boost in taste." Another cultivator said when he frowned, noticing that his getup wasn't perfect. He then manifested a pair of spectacles and wore them, pressing upon them with his index finger when a flash of light was reflected from the lens. 

All sorts of cultivators congregated in the massive arena that had been constructed for sect competitions. 

Slowly, the Elders began to line up at the judging seats as Zamura arrived, looking rather excited. 

He grinned, goading through Divine Sense. "It's fun, right?"