Gardener of Eden

Chapter 89: Chapter 89: Making new friends

In the sunlit dining conservatory of the private guest wing, a round white-marble table was set with a light morning spread—fresh berries, toasted spirit-grain pastries, poached eggs, and delicate porcelain pots of steaming white tea.

Seated around the table were the five 1st-place division champions of the Imperial Exhibition Tournament.

While the imperial martial artists and master crafters held immense pride in their respective crafts, the conversation at the table quickly gravitated toward Rowan. High-speed combat, forgecraft, and alchemical brewing were standard pillars of imperial power, but Rowan’s feat had accomplished something the capital considered biologically impossible: purifying atmospheric mana toxicity to wake a fossilized, thousand-year-old ancestral peach seed back to life.

”We’ve spent our entire lives optimizing offensive spells and volatile reagents,” the High Alchemist Scion admitted, setting down his cup as he looked at Rowan with genuine intrigue. ”To completely purge ambient mana corruption from a dead stone husk and cause an extinct ancestral tree to bloom in seconds... that isn’t just talent, Vance. That is a complete rewrite of modern agricultural logic.”

”An empire can fight with steel, but it survives on sustainment,” Valen von Astra added, offering a firm nod of respect across the round table. ”A utility capable of generating pure, uncorrupted vital crops on demand is arguably the most strategic capability in this entire pavilion.”

The Royal Master’s Apprentice chuckled softly. ”I shape high-grade mythril every day, but watching golden earth mana force calcified stone into blooming pink flowers was the real show yesterday.”

Rowan adjusted the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, the Golden-Red Imperial Dragon Badge gleaming brightly on his Sol-Aethel uniform.

”The soil always tells you what it needs,” Rowan replied with a calm, modest smile. ”Most Awakeners try to force their mana into the land. Cultivation is just about clearing away the noise so the natural vitality can take root.”

As the light breakfast came to an end, the five champions stood up from the round table with a shared sense of mutual respect—ready for their private audience with Emperor Aurelius IX and their long-awaited entry into the Imperial Treasury.

***

An elderly, silver-haired Royal Butler in immaculate gold-embroidered tails stepped into the conservatory, bowing with geometric precision before turning to lead the five 1st-place champions down the grand marble colonnade.

As heavy oak double doors swept open into the Royal Estate’s central hall, a wave of ambient mana, rich perfumes, and quiet, measured chatter washed over them. The soaring chamber was already teeming with the absolute elite of the empire—an overwhelming concentration of power, wealth, and influence.

Rowan walked with a relaxed, steady stride beside his fellow champions, taking in the crowd. High-born nobles bearing the bloodlines of the founding ducal houses stood in small rings, their silken capes glinting with heirloom crests. Beside them stood powerful industrial titans—magnates who controlled the empire’s mining sectors, inter-city mana networks, and high-tier artifact monopolies. Dominating the far alcoves were towering Guild Masters, veteran S-rank heroes whose casual postures barely masked the deadly, razor-sharp presence of seasoned combatants governing tens of thousands of registered adventurers across the continent.

As the five champions crossed the polished obsidian floor, conversations faltered and dozens of sharp, evaluating eyes turned toward them. Whispers rippled through the gathering as the elite recognized the imperial prodigies, but an unusual amount of attention fixed directly on Rowan.

Standing among the capital’s high-born scions in his dark Sol-Aethel uniform, Rowan stood out effortlessly. With his Enchanted Straw Hat tipped slightly to shade his brow, the Hoe of the World-Tiller resting at his side, and the radiant Golden-Red Imperial Dragon Badge gleaming prominently on his chest, he exuded an aura of unshakeable, calm authority.

Following the guard captain’s advice, Rowan maintained an unyielding, dignified posture. He neither lowered his gaze to the whispering lords nor preened under the inquisitive stares of the guild masters. Guided by the butler, the five young champions pressed smoothly through the crowded hall toward the double doors leading to the private imperial dining pavilion.

***

Emperor Aurelius turned away from the sweeping view of the capital horizon, waving a broad hand to dismiss the rigid salutes of the five champions.

”At ease,” the Emperor said, a warm, genuine smile replacing his usual stoic grandeur. ”Save the stiff posture for the high lords milling about in the main hall. In this dining room, formalities are not required.”

The tension in the air evaporated instantly. Seated at the center of the long, gilded mahogany table, Empress Celestia offered a gracious, regal smile, her striking violet eyes scanning the five young prodigies. Beside her, Crown Prince Julian leaned back with an approving nod, while Princess Lyra leaned forward on her elbows, her eyes sparkling with uninhibited curiosity as she locked onto Rowan.

”You really brought back a thousand-year-old ancestral peach tree!” Lyra exclaimed, breaking what remained of the courtly decorum. Her gaze darted from the Golden-Red Imperial Dragon Badge pinned to Rowan’s Sol-Aethel uniform up to his Enchanted Straw Hat. ”The imperial botanists have been arguing in the library since dawn about how your mana cleansed the atmospheric decay!”

Rowan lowered his hand, offering a polite head bow toward the young princess. ”The seed just needed the right environment, Your Highness. Soil remembers what it was before the world changed.”

”A modest answer for an extraordinary feat,” Empress Celestia remarked smoothly, her rich voice echoing with quiet authority. ”To restore life to what history deemed extinct is a divine gift, Cadet Vance.”

”Sit, all of you,” Emperor Aurelius commanded warmly, taking his place at the head of the table. ”Today, you dine as honored guests of House von Aetheris.”

As the champions took their seats, royal attendants stepped forward to serve a lavish multi-course feast—delicacies crafted from rare spirit-grade beast meats, crystallized mana-seasoned glazes, and vintage elixirs from the sovereign cellars. Throughout the meal, the conversation flowed naturally. The Emperor engaged Valen and the Ranged Specialist in deep martial tactics, while the Empress questioned the High Alchemist Scion and the Master’s Apprentice on the finer points of craft theory.

Yet, Emperor Aurelius’s golden eyes frequently drifted back to Rowan. The Sovereign watched the young cultivator dine with calm, unbothered grace, completely unfazed by the presence of the imperial family.

”After we finish our meal, Rowan,” Emperor Aurelius said, swirling a glass of deep crimson spirit wine, ”the Royal Butler will escort you down to the Vaults of the Imperial Treasury. I suspect a cultivator of your caliber will find something truly unique resting within our ancestors’ collection.”