Chapter 124: Eternity Guild

Chapter 124: Chapter 124: Eternity Guild

The moment the spoken word "Eternity" unlatched the ancient mechanism, the dark stone altar flared with blinding intensity. A beam of radiant, pale light shot straight out from the pedestal’s central gem, cutting through the damp cavern mist to lock squarely onto Rowan.

Surrounded by the sudden glow, Rowan paused. For the first time since entering the flooded citadel, a flicker of genuine confusion crossed his usually unbothered expression. He glanced back over his shoulder at Squad 07. Barney had instinctively brought up his massive tower shield, Caelen’s hand was locked on the hilt of Edge of the First Warden, and Princess Lyra looked between the glowing glyphs and Rowan with wide, astonished eyes.

"Rowan... it’s targeting you," Caelen warned softly, his posture instantly shifting into a guarded stance. "Be careful. We don’t know if this is a trial or a localized trap."

"Doesn’t feel like a trap," Rowan murmured, his core mana humming in harmonic resonance with the light wrapping around his frame. It didn’t carry hostility; it felt like an ancient mechanism recognizing an anomaly.

Offering his squad a brief, reassuring nod, Rowan adjusted the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, shifted his trusty hoe over his shoulder, and took a decisive step onto the raised altar platform.

The moment his boot pressed against the dark obsidian surface, the beam of light collapsed inward into a concentrated sphere of pure void energy. The air pressure in the subterranean chamber plummeted, and with a soft tearing sound, the sphere erupted into a magnificent purple glowing portal.

Sparks of arcane violet light cascaded across the altar like liquid glass, swirling in a silent, rhythmic vortex. The portal pulsed with a gentle, hypnotic pull, clearly inviting Rowan—and Rowan alone—to step beyond the realm of the 6th floor.

"It’s a solo trial," Mirei called down from her watchpost near the spiral stairs, her sharp eyes tracking the violet energy tear as Caelen reached out, only for a soft ripple of spatial mana to firmly push his hand back. "The portal is rejecting our energy entirely. It only recognized your mana signature, Rowan—this place unlocked for you alone."

Rowan stood before the swirling vortex, his shadow cast long across the ancient altar by the shimmering violet light. The momentary confusion melted away, replaced by his familiar, coolly calculating smirk.

"Hold the perimeter," Rowan instructed, turning back to Squad 07 with absolute calm. "If this ancient system keyed itself specifically to my mana for ’Eternity’... let’s see what kind of trial it has waiting."

Without another second of hesitation, Rowan stepped forward, plunging straight into the purple light.

***

The disorienting pull of the purple portal dissolved into an oppressive, weightless silence. Rowan opened his eyes to find himself standing in an endless, pure white room. There were no visible walls, no ceiling, and no floor boundaries—just a boundless expanse of absolute, gleaming ivory that seemed to stretch into infinity. In the exact center of this silent domain sat a low, smooth stone table flanked by two simple wooden chairs.

Seated at the far side was a figure composed entirely of shifting, ink-black shadow. Its silhouette was fluid, lacking distinct physical features, yet its presence exuded an ancient, weightless authority. As Rowan stepped onto the invisible surface of the room, the shadow slowly raised a dark, tendril-like hand, making a calm, deliberate gesture toward the empty chair directly across from it.

Rowan didn’t flinch or reach for a weapon. He simply adjusted the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, feeling the familiar, warm thrum of his core mana pulsing inside his chest. The Gardener of Eden authority within him remained tranquil, signaling no immediate hostility. Shifting his trusty hoe comfortably over his shoulder, Rowan strolled forward, his boots making soft, echoing taps against the unseen floor before pulling back the wooden chair and taking a seat.

"Not quite what I expected for an ancient subterranean trial," Rowan said softly, breaking the quiet with a cool, relaxed smirk. He rested his hands over the top of his hoe, his sharp eyes locked onto the formless entity. "Most altars throw guardian bosses or endless mob waves at intruders. You just offer a place to sit."

The shadow leaned forward across the white table. Where its face should have been, two faint, pale white pinpricks of light flickered to life.

"Brute force measures only the flesh," a deep, resonant voice echoed directly within Rowan’s mind, sounding like the rustling of ancient autumn leaves combined with the quiet grinding of deep earth.

"The trial of ’Eternity’ measures the soul, the core, and the seed you carry. You bear the mana signature of one of the Eternity Guild Founders. You are here to demonstrate whether your foundation can endure endless time, or wither away under its weight."

Rowan stared down at the ancient, shriveled seed resting on the white stone table. Its surface was dry as ash, completely devoid of vitality and scarred by centuries of stasis. To any ordinary caster or elementalist, the command to force life from a withered husk without soil, water, or sunlight inside a sterile void would be an impossible paradox. Without earth to anchor roots or nutrients to feed the core, a seed was nothing more than a dead pebble.

Rowan simply smirked, a relaxed, cool spark lighting his sharp eyes as he tilted the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat.

"Nourish it without soil?" Rowan murmured, his voice smooth and untroubled. "You’re assuming soil is just dirt beneath your boots."

He reached forward, hovering his right palm an inch above the withered black husk. Slowly, Rowan closed his eyes, tapping deep into his Gardener of Eden authority.

He didn’t summon raw, volatile magic. Instead, he unleashed the fundamental concept of his domain: the spirit of cultivation itself. His core mana flared with a rich, vibrant aura that carried the warm, heavy scent of freshly turned earth, the pristine crispness of morning mist, and the primordial spark of creation. Rowan’s mana didn’t just imitate soil—it became the cradle of life, transforming the barren table into a localized ecosystem.

A gentle, golden-emerald glow radiated from Rowan’s palm, enveloping the withered seed in a swirling mist of pure, condensed vitality.

The black husk trembled. The ancient fissures along its dried shell began to pulse with veins of brilliant crimson and gold. With a soft, echoing crack that shattered the room’s absolute quiet, the seed split open. A tender, iridescent shoot emerged, uncurling greedily to drink in Rowan’s boundless core mana.

Within seconds, thick, crystalline roots reached outward, weaving an intricate web across the tabletop—anchoring themselves not in physical earth, but directly into the fabric of Rowan’s projected domain. The shoot surged upward into a graceful, silver-stemmed lotus. At its apex, magnificent petals unfurled, shimmering with alternating currents of azure water, radiant light, and rich violet mana.

The flower released a wave of divine, sweet fragrance that washed over the void, completely dissolving the oppressive silence.

The shadow entity leaned back in its wooden chair, its pale eyes flaring brightly as it observed the glowing bloom. "Fascinating," the deep voice echoed within Rowan’s mind. "You did not force growth through brute magic. You made your own core the soil."

Rowan opened his eyes, resting his chin comfortably on his hand as he looked across the table. "A true gardener carries the earth in his soul. Now... let’s talk about what the Eternity Guild Founders left behind."

"This tower you dwell within belongs to the Eternity Guild," the shadow entity intoned, its deep voice resounding through the weightless void as its pale eyes fixated on the shimmering lotus. "Our leader and founder, Markus Blackwell, the God of Fate, sends these towers across the cosmos to search for gifted individuals in developing worlds."

Rowan didn’t flinch. He leaned back slightly in his wooden chair, adjusting the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat with a low, thoughtful hum. "A god of fate dropping giant, monster-infested towers on developing realms just to scout for talent? Sounds like a pretty aggressive recruitment campaign."

"Fate does not seek the weak, nor does it hand out salvation," the shadow replied, gesturing toward the blooming silver flower that continued to thrive solely on Rowan’s condensed domain mana. "Countless souls enter these spires seeking power, yet they rely entirely on raw destruction. But you... you possess a core that nurtures existence itself. The signature of the Gardener of Eden is a primordial authority—one capable of rooting itself anywhere and defying fate’s rigid threads."

The shadow slowly rose from its seat, its dark silhouette expanding as the pure white room around them began to ripple like water.

"Markus Blackwell wove these trials to identify those who can transcend the constraints of their world. You have passed the Trial of Eternity, Rowan. You have proven that your foundation is boundless."

The silver lotus hovering on the stone table dissolved into a stream of pure, violet-gold liquid light, flowing directly into Rowan’s right palm. A subtle, elegant mark shaped like an hourglass intertwined with a blooming sprout etched itself faintly beneath his skin before sinking deep into his core.

"The mana flowing through your core... it is far more than a simple spatial alignment. You possess the bloodline of Rosanne Vance—sister to Markus Blackwell and one of the original founders of the Eternity Guild."

Rowan raised an eyebrow, a cool, calculating smirk playing on his lips as he digested the revelation. "Rosanne Vance, huh? So the God of Fate is practically family business."

System notifications flashed rapidly across his vision:

[Trial of Eternity Cleared!]

[Bloodline Verified: Rosanne Vance (Eternity Guild Founder)]

[Reward: Emblem of the Eternity Guild (Founder’s Resonance)]

[Effect: Permanent +20% Mana Density & Unlocks Tower Vault Access]

Rowan rested his trusty hoe comfortably over his shoulder, feeling his core mana expand with a rich, invigorating warmth. He looked up at the fading shadow with a satisfied grin. "Tell Markus if he ever drops by my farm, he owes family a drink for putting up with his floor traps."

The shadow entity let out a low, echoing chuckle that reverberated through the void. "Until we meet on the higher floors, Heir of Vance."

With a sudden flash of blinding purple light, the void dissolved, pulling Rowan straight back toward the subterranean altar where Squad 07 waited.