Chapter 92: Champion’s Home

Chapter 92: Chapter 92: Champion’s Home

For three grueling hours, Rowan and his fellow champions endured a relentless barrage of aristocratic networking. Navigating high-court politics, veiled threats disguised as compliments, and pushy guild masters turned out to be far more exhausting than any duel in the tournament arena. Rowan lost track of how many times he repeated his script, handing out contact tokens for Eden International and directing every trade proposal back to his mother, Martha Vance. Valen looked ready to draw his new broadsword just to clear a five-foot perimeter, while the High Alchemist Scion looked visibly drained from deflecting marriage proposals from regional barons.

Just as the suffocating crowd closed in for yet another round of contract negotiations, a deep, resonant voice echoed through the hall, carrying the unyielding weight of imperial authority.

"My lords, ladies, and honored guests," Emperor Aurelius announced, stepping forward onto the raised dais beside Empress Celestia. "Our young champions have fought valiantly for the empire’s glory, endured rigorous trials, and granted us a magnificent day of triumph. They have earned their rest. This gathering is officially concluded."

A collective, silent sigh of relief swept through the five prodigies. With a wave of the Emperor’s hand, the imperial guards smoothly formed a wall of gleaming platinum plate, gently but firmly clearing a path and ushering the reluctant crowd toward the main exit doors.

Emperor Aurelius walked over to the exhausted champions, a knowing, amused glint in his golden eyes. "Consider that your final trial of the day," the Sovereign chuckled quietly. "Surviving the court vultures requires more stamina than facing a beast tide."

Offerings of deep gratitude and farewells were exchanged. Valen, the Ranged Specialist, the Apprentice, and the Alchemist bowed to the Emperor before departing toward their respective family transports.

Rowan adjusted the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, resting his hand over the Golden-Red Imperial Dragon Badge pinned to his Sol-Aethel uniform. With his Hoe of the World-Tiller secured, three ancestral peach pits tucked into his coat, and the mythical Vessel of the Eternal Tide resting in his spatial inventory, he was more than ready to leave the capital behind.

The Captain of the Royal Guard stepped up, offering a respectful salute. "Your private transport is prepared, Cadet Vance. We shall escort you directly home to your family."

Stepping into the six-wheeled sovereign carriage, Rowan sank back into the plush leather seats as the armored engine hummed to life. The transport glided out of the estate gates, whisking him away from the capital spires and heading back toward Sol-Aethel—ready to enjoy his well-deserved week of rest alongside Martha and the rest of Squad 07.

***

The six-wheeled sovereign carriage glided smoothly down the quiet dirt road leading to Sunny Vale. Under the radiant glow of the midnight moon, the vast fields of their new homestead glistened like a sea of liquid silver. Every stalk of spirit-grain and every patch of enriched soil hummed with a soft, peaceful vitality that instantly washed away the lingering exhaustion of capital politics.

As the armored mana engine hummed to a gentle stop, the warm amber light of spirit-lanterns spilled from the front porch. Standing together at the door, wrapped in simple woven cloaks against the cool night air, were his parents. They had been waiting anxiously since dusk, watching the road for their son’s return.

The Guard Captain personally opened the heavy titan-steel door, stepping out first to offer a crisp, formal salute as Rowan descended. Tipping up the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, Rowan stepped onto the familiar earth, resting the Hoe of the World-Tiller casually over his shoulder. The moonlight caught the Golden-Red Imperial Dragon Badge pinned to his Sol-Aethel uniform, casting a striking, golden radiance across his chest.

Martha gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she saw the sovereign crest and the platinum royal guards bowing respectfully to her son. Beside her, Rowan’s father stood frozen in awe before a broad, tearful grin broke across his weathered face.

Rowan bridged the distance in quick strides, wrapping his mother in a tight, warm hug. Martha held him fiercely, wiping away a tear before stepping back to trace the edge of the imperial badge.

"Look at you," Martha whispered, her voice trembling with pride. "A champion of the empire... escorted home by the Sovereign’s own guard."

"I’m just a cultivator who missed the fields, Mom," Rowan replied with a calm, gentle smile, feeling grounded for the first time all day. "Though... you might want to brace yourself. Half the high lords and guild masters in the capital are going to be sending trade inquiries to your slate starting tomorrow morning."

Arthur let out a hearty laugh, clapping Rowan heavily on the shoulder. "Let the whole empire line up if they want. Tonight, our boy is back home."

With the royal escort turning back toward the capital, Rowan walked into the warm house with his parents, leaving the world behind as his week of rest finally began.

The dining table held a steaming bowl of homemade soup, cooked with crisp root vegetables and fragrant spirit-herbs harvested straight from the fields of Sunny Vale. After the extravagant, multi-course capital banquet, this humble, comforting dish felt like a true homecoming. Between warm spoonfuls, Rowan recounted the day’s events—from his private audience with Emperor Aurelius IX and the selection of the mythical Vessel of the Eternal Tide to the chaotic swarm of court vultures in the grand hall.

He slid the stack of spirit-wood contact tokens across the table to his mother. "I redirected them all to you," Rowan said with a wry smile. "Expect a massive wave of trade inquiries from the capital’s top brass starting first thing tomorrow."

Martha looked at the high-born crests stamped onto the tokens and let out a long, weary sigh, shaking her head. "As if my slate wasn’t buzzing enough already," she chuckled softly, rubbing her temples. "Rowan, the Eden International storefront has been completely sold out every single week. Local demand alone is pushing us to our absolute limit. If we’re going to supply imperial nobility and major guilds without collapsing, we’re going to need to acquire more land to increase our production and scale up as soon as possible."

"We’ll expand," Rowan assured her gently. "And with what I brought back, our yields are going to multiply tenfold."

After Rowan finished every last drop of the nourishing soup, his parents patted his shoulder and retired to bed, exhausted from the evening’s anticipation. Quiet returned to the homestead.

Rowan stepped outside into the cool midnight air, his boots pressing into the damp, fertile earth of Sunny Vale. Standing in the center of the moonlit fields, he took a deep breath and centered his spirit. Tipping back his Enchanted Straw Hat, he extended his palms toward the dark soil and activated his skill, [Breath of Eden - Lv. 2].

A gentle, golden wave of primordial mana erupted from his core, cascading across the ground like a glowing tide. The earth hummed in response as the skill purged lingering impurities, enriched the soil’s nutrient density, and invigorated every sleeping root across the farm. Leaves rustled, and stalks stretched higher under the moonlight, whispering with newfound vitality.

Looking out over his thriving crops, Rowan smiled quietly. With a full week’s break ahead, the mythical watering can resting in his inventory, and ancestral peach seeds waiting to take root, the real growth of Eden International was just beginning.