Gardener of Eden

Chapter 196: Chapter 196: Eden International’s Contribution

Stepping back through the fading spatial rift of The Virgin Soil, Rowan materialized softly onto the wooden floor of his bedroom. In his spatial storage, the heavy vault hummed with the blinding, liquid-starlight radiance of thousands of gallons of concentrated Primordial Spring Water.

Without losing a second, Rowan went downstairs, the quiet house now bustling as Arthur and the farm staff shuttled overflowing wooden crates of freshly harvested Sun-Dappled Tomatoes and Primordial Dew Lettuce out to the estate’s loading bays. Rowan bypassed the main hall and stepped into the manor’s sprawling, granite-topped kitchen.

Clearing the massive prep tables, Rowan summoned rows of sterile, runically sealed glass bottles from the estate’s storage arrays. Unsealing the spatial vault just a fraction, a sweet, vaporous mist of pure divine energy filled the kitchen, instantly clearing the air and making the wooden ceiling beams bloom with tiny, spontaneous green shoots.

Pure, undiluted Primordial Spring Water was far too potent for ordinary citizens; drinking it raw would overload a non-cultivator’s meridians with sheer, primordial vitality. Dilution was vital.

Rowan diverted clean, mineral-rich spring water from Sunny Vale’s deep aquifers into stainless steel mixing vats, carefully measuring out exact ratios of the Primordial Spring Water. As the starlight liquid touched the fresh water, the entire mixture flared with a mesmerizing, translucent azure glow, swirling with microscopic specks of golden light.

Even heavily diluted, a single drop carried enough uncorrupted, domain-infused life force to instantly neutralize necrotic soul-rot, repair decaying cores, and purge airborne bio-chemical toxins from a victim’s system within seconds.

Working with fluid, practiced speed, Rowan filled, corked, and runically sealed hundreds of glass bottles, packing them tightly into padded, climate-controlled transport crates stamped with the crest of Sunny Vale.

Arthur walked into the kitchen, wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead, his eyes widening as he felt the invigorating, spirit-soothing aura radiating from the counter. ”Rowan, the Imperial Palace just established a direct, emergency spatial relay outside our main gates. The Crown Prince and the Grand Alchemist are on the line—they’re authorizing immediate national military escorts for whatever relief supplies you have ready.”

”Tell them the first batch is ready,” Rowan said smoothly, sliding the last sealed bottle into a padded wooden crate and locking the latch with a firm CLACK.

”These bottles go directly to the Imperial Family and the central medical command in the Royal Capital,” Rowan instructed, his golden-amber eyes burning with calm, unshakeable intent. ”They are to immediately begin disseminating diluted portions across every province in the Empire, and airlift international shipments to the allied nations suffering the worst of the cult’s attacks.”

As royal spatial transports began flashing to life outside the manor’s gates, ready to carry the shimmering azure vials to the four corners of the dying world, Rowan wiped his hands and picked up the Hoe of the World-Tiller leaning against the counter.

The Order of Humanity had tried to drown humanity in poison and despair—but Sunny Vale was about to flood the world with life.

***

The thunder of heavy dual-rotors rattled the wooden beams of Sunny Vale Manor as a fleet of secure, black-and-silver Imperial heavy-lift helicopters descended from the clouds, their anti-grav engines humming alongside runic flight stabilizers.

Down on the estate’s landing clearings, the massive cargo ramps hissed open. Imperial logistics officers clad in pristine white medical-armor rushed out, coordinating seamlessly with Rowan’s farmhands. Crate after crate of glowing, azure-tinted diluted Primordial Spring Water and overflowing boxes of crops were carefully wheeled up the ramps and locked into climate-controlled stasis bays.

At the center of this monumental global airlift stood Crown Prince Julian von Aetheris.

Operating directly from the Imperial Strategic Command Array aboard the central command flagship, Julian’s high-definition holographic projection flickered to life on a tactical console right beside Rowan on the porch.

The Crown Prince looked exhausted, his uniform collar slightly unbuttoned and his eyes dark with lack of sleep, but his mind was moving like a grandmaster chess player. Julian handled hundreds of incoming emergency communication channels simultaneously, orchestrating the largest diplomatic and humanitarian response in human history.

”Rowan, your timing is nothing short of divine,” Julian spoke rapidly, his hands flicking through glowing holographic windows displaying international casualty reports and emergency relief requests. ”The Republic of Europa’s central aquifer was poisoned an hour ago—they were facing total core collapse across forty cities. I’m routing the first three helicopter payloads directly to their primary spatial gateway under royal escort.”

On Julian’s screens, world leaders, international guild masters, and desperate prime ministers were lined up on encrypted channels, practically begging for aid. Julian moved with ruthless efficiency and ironclad diplomatic grace, leveraging Sunny Vale’s miraculous supply to secure immediate international truces, open closed borders, and establish unified global defense lines against the remaining Order sleeper cells.

”Every bottle of your spring water is treating thousands of patients,” Julian continued, turning his projection toward Rowan with profound, genuine respect. ”The Grand Alchemists just analyzed the first sample we received in the capital—it doesn’t just halt necrotic soul-rot; it completely purges the toxic catalyst and restores cellular vitality within minutes. You aren’t just sending aid, Rowan. You’re single-handedly reversing a global apocalypse.”

Rowan stood on the edge of the loading pad, his hand resting casually on the handle of the Hoe of the World-Tiller, watching the final heavy-lift transport seal its cargo doors and lift into the morning sky. The downwash swept through his hair and rustled the vibrant fields, but his expression remained calm and absolute.

”Tell the foreign delegations there’s plenty more where that came from,” Rowan said smoothly, his golden-amber eyes locking onto the glowing azure crates disappearing into the sky. ”Keep the logistics network moving, Julian. I am working around the clock, and Sunny Vale won’t stop until every last drop of poison on this planet is gone.”

***

Leaving the farmhands to manage the continuous loading onto the Imperial helicopters, Rowan traveled straight into the heart of the Imperial Capital.

In the city’s prestigious central district, the glass-and-iron facade of Eden International’s flagship store stood out like a sanctuary. Normally, the luxury boutique was frequented by high-tier guild masters, court alchemists, and wealthy nobles seeking Sunny Vale’s high-purity mana crops.

Today, however, the avenue outside was choked with an anxious, clamoring crowd. Desperate buyers, aristocratic house stewards, and private physicians were practically pounding on the reinforced crystal doors, waving bags of platinum and gold in hopes of purchasing high-vitality produce to shield themselves from the global necrotic fallout.

Rowan stepped past the security line, his calm demeanor parting the anxious crowd as he unlocked the main entrance and slipped inside.

The store manager, a sharp-dressed man named Orion, rushed forward with a tablet covered in glowing, unfulfilled pre-orders. ”Master Rowan! Thank the light you’re here. The demand is off the charts! Nobles are offering ten times the market rate for a single crate of Sun-Dappled Tomatoes or a vial of spring water. If we open the vault, we could easily clear fifty million gold in an hour!”

Rowan looked at the endless list of high-society pre-orders, then back out through the glass doors at the panic in the streets. Without hesitation, he reached up and tapped the central control rune on the store’s primary sign.

BUZZ.

The glowing golden letters of Eden International shifted from an inviting emerald hue to a solid, pulsing crimson. The automated brass shutters slowly descended over the display windows, locking the doors and flashing a clear, empire-wide broadcast across the storefront’s interface: CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE — ALL STOCK DIVERTED TO GLOBAL EMERGENCY RELIEF.

A collective gasp echoed from the crowd gathered outside.

”M-Master Rowan?” Orion stammered, his eyes wide. ”You’re shutting down the flagship store entirely?”

”Cancel every commercial order on the books,” Rowan commanded, his voice filled with quiet, unshakeable authority. ”Empty every display case, every cold-storage array, and every reserve vault in this building. Route every single item directly to Prince Julian’s military transport hubs.”

Orion swallowed hard, but seeing the absolute resolve in Rowan’s golden-amber eyes, he bowed deeply. ”Understood, sir. I’ll reassign all retail staff to logistics and packing immediately.”

Rowan turned toward the glass doors one last time before the iron shutters sealed completely. Raising his voice slightly, his tone carried clearly through the runic intercom to the stunned crowd outside.

”Eden International is suspended until the necrotic crisis is resolved,” Rowan announced firmly. ”Not a single crop from Sunny Vale will be sold for private luxury or profit while people are dying in field hospitals. For now, you will have to make do with the lower mana purity crops from the local city farmers and regional markets.”

The wealthy patrons and guild representatives stood in stunned silence. Some looked outraged, but under the heavy, divine pressure radiating quietly from the young farmer holding the Hoe of the World-Tiller, no one dared utter a word of protest.

With the flagship store officially converted into a frontline distribution node, Rowan turned his back on millions in potential profit, stepping into the store’s private spatial transit circle to return to Sunny Vale and double his yields.