When the brass clock chimed again, it was time for the second churn. While the ice cream rested for the next cooling cycle, Rowan decided to tackle dinner.
He quickly decided what would be a quick and light dinner and got to work. He first pushed a thick cutting board onto the counter. From the depths of the Magic Fridge, he produced a large, golden-brown chicken breast he'd cooked a while ago.
He picked up a long, thin slicing knife. His movements were swift and economical, honed by years of battlefield efficiency and daily domestic routine. The chicken breast was quickly reduced to a pile of perfect, uniform, paper-thin slices, the savory aroma of herbs and roast filling the air.
Next came the bread. He took a heavy, crusty loaf of sourdough he had baked before, the crust a deep, satisfying bronze. With a confident, downward stroke, he sliced it into twelve thick, rustic pieces. The sharp tang of the fermented dough contrasted beautifully with the chicken.
Rowan then lined up the bread slices on the counter, three sets of two for the boys, two for Lilly and Lucia, and two for Alexia.
He retrieved a creamy, tangy, pale-yellow mayonnaise-like spread, a homemade concoction enriched with fresh herbs from the garden, from a small ceramic jar.
He slathered it onto all twelve slices with a practiced hand, ensuring a perfect, even layer that reached right to the crust.
On six of the slices, he then laid down a generous bed of crisp, dark-green butter lettuce, pulled straight from the farm's hydroponic tower, followed by two thick, crimson slices of heirloom tomato, their centers glistening with juice.
Finally, he stacked the shaved chicken high onto the tomato, creating an impressive, multi-layered sandwich. He topped each creation with the matching bread slice, pressing them down gently. The finished product was a towering, hearty, six-inch-thick meal, brimming with the fresh, clean flavors of his farm.
He lined the six massive sandwiches up, cutting each one diagonally into two manageable triangles.
"Eat up," he said, sliding a plate with one full sandwich to each child. "We need maximum energy for the next round of churning!"
The children didn't hesitate. The savory scent, so different from the sweet fruit they'd been working with, was irresistible.
Lilly, whose appetite was always as big as her energy, took a huge bite. Her eyes went wide, the corners crinkling with pleasure. "It's crunchy, Daddy! The chicken is so yummy and the bread is chewy!" She loved the simple, tactile experience of the food.
Darius, having already finished one triangle, was already halfway through the second.
Alex, ever the analyst, took a deliberate bite. He chewed slowly, savoring the subtle herb infusion in the chicken and the sour tang of the sourdough. "Thank you." A small, genuine smile touched his lips.
Lucia, the quietest, held the sandwich in both small hands, studying the layers before taking a tiny, mouse-like nibble. She closed her eyes for a moment. "Salty and savory. And crunchy. Good, tasty..." For her, the complex, fresh flavors were a pure, simple experience of the farm's bounty.
Alexia gently peeled back the top slice of bread, inspecting the layers. She took a meticulous bite, ensuring she got every component. "The structural integrity of the lettuce provides an excellent foundation against the moisture of the tomato, preventing the bread from becoming overly saturated. The ratio of condiment to filling is precisely calibrated. A triumph of culinary engineering, Father." She took another, less analytical, but equally appreciative bite.
Rowan realised that this daughter had to potential to be a top tier food critic. Maybe she would even write a book or a have section in the kingdom's newspaper one day.
They finished their sandwiches with satisfied sighs and messy fingers just as the brass clock chimed again, signaling the end of the cooling cycle and the start of the second churn. Fuel tanks refilled, the Blacksun Brigade was ready to attack the next round of frozen mixture.
This process repeated two more times, with the children finishing their drinks and chatting quietly as they took turns on the paddle. Each time the mixture was colder, harder, and required more effort. Lucia, in the later stages, was only able to gently poke at the rock-hard mixture, but she was still deeply engaged.
Finally, after a full hour and four churning sessions, the final product was ready.
Rowan pulled the pan out. The mixture was no longer a slush. It was a firm, dense, creamy mass of light pink, studded with perfect red chunks of strawberry.
"Behold!" Rowan cried, lifting the pan high. "Strawberry Ice Cream, made by the Blacksun Brigade!"
Lilly and Lucia cheered, jumping up and down.
Rowan grabbed six ceramic bowls and his favorite ice cream scooper—a heavy, self-heating copper tool. He dipped the tool into the ice cream. It slid through the creamy mass with satisfying ease.
He created six perfect, round scoops for each bowl, the pink looking glorious against the white ceramic.
"A job well done deserves the best reward," Rowan said, handing a bowl to each child, along with a small, wooden spoon. "The ice cream is all yours. Dig in!"
The children didn't need to be told twice.
Lilly plunged her spoon in, her eyes lighting up at the first taste. "It's so cold! And so sweet! Better than the berries!" She was grinning, the cold sensation a sharp, exciting jolt.
Lucia, always deliberate, took a small bite. Her eyes closed in pure bliss. "Strawberry smell. Cold. Sweet, Daddy. Best ice cream." It was the highest praise she could give, equating the taste to the warmth of the sun and the perfect sensation of cold.
Darius was already half done with his bowl, scooping up the creamy delight with a rapid, focused fervor. "Maximum reward for maximum effort, Father! This is excellent morale boosting!"
It was a surprise that the boy did not seem to get a brain freeze. It must be the incredible genes that he and Yue Ling passed on.
Alex took a measured bite, then another. He looked up at Rowan, a genuine, uncalculating smile on his face. "It's the best ice cream I've ever had. The cream to milk ratio… the honey… It's flawless. The texture is sublime. Thank you, Father." His appreciation was deep and heartfelt.
Alexia, after a full minute of silent consumption, put down her spoon. "The non-crystalline structure is remarkable, Father. The mouthfeel is entirely smooth.
The inclusion of the honey was an inspired choice, providing both a cleaner sweetness and potentially lowering the freezing point. The entire process was a stunning display of applied domestic magic and thermodynamic control. I must record the process in my notes."
She paused, then added, "It is delicious." This daughter loved to talk so fancily but at least she knew when to keep it simple.
Rowan watched them, a deep warmth spreading through his chest, a feeling far more satisfying than the strongest mana boost. He took a bite of his own, savoring the rich, clean taste of his own farm's effort.
It was more than just ice cream. It was a bond, a shared creation, a victory over the heat, and a celebration of family. The kitchen was full of the sound of happy, spoon-clanking silence.
After they finished, Rowan gathered the empty bowls. "Now that we have conquered the strawberry, who wants to see the source of the cream? Who wants to meet Betsy?"
The children, their energy fully restored by the cold, sweet treat, cheered in unison. The end of day adventure was just beginning.
The sun had begun its slow, welcome descent. The fierce heat had broken, replaced by a golden, buttery light that bathed the farm in a tranquil glow. With the ice cream consumed and their energy levels fully charged, the children were eager for the next phase of the afternoon.
"Alright, Blacksun Brigade," Rowan announced, wiping the last smear of pink from Lucia's cheek. "Time for a little tour of the barn. We're going to visit the source of that glorious cream and milk. Follow me to the Big Red Barn!"
He led them through the back door and across a short stretch of well-tended grass. The farm was expansive, and this section was bordered by a low, magically reinforced wooden fence that kept the animals safely contained.
Towering over the enclosure was a massive structure of vibrant red wood and white trim, a barn so large and impeccably maintained it looked more like a nobleman's carriage house.
"That is the Big Red Barn," Rowan explained. "It's one of the oldest structures on the farm, built by your great-grandfather. I reinforced it with magic to keep it cool in the summer and warm in the winter, and to keep the… less friendly wildlife out."
Rowan had spent a lot of time fixing the support beams and reinforcing weakened areas to keep this testament of time standing.
Inside the barn, the air was surprisingly clean and airy, smelling faintly of sweet hay and warm milk, completely devoid of the usual odors associated with a working farm. The floor was spotless, and the ceiling was crisscrossed with smooth, enchanted timbers.
They walked to the largest stall, where a gentle giant stood waiting. She was a massive, placid cow with a coat of rich brown and white spots, currently munching on a mouthful of glowing, high-mana hay that Rowan grew especially for her.
"Children, meet Betsy," Rowan said, scratching the cow's soft, broad forehead. "She is a very special cow. She gives us all the milk and all the liquid dairy we need, and she does it all by herself. Betsy, say hello to your fan club."
Betsy stopped chewing and turned her enormous, gentle head. Her eyes, a deep, liquid brown, blinked slowly as she regarded the five small figures. She let out a low, soft Moooh, a sound that seemed more like a greeting than a call.
Lucia, always the first to be drawn to warmth and softness, immediately stepped forward, her tiny hand reaching out tentatively. "Hello, Betsy," she whispered.
"She's so big, Daddy!" Lilly exclaimed, standing next to her sister, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and excitement. "Is she a warrior cow?"
Rowan chuckled. "She's a producer, Lilly, which is just as important. She's also the friendliest cow in the kingdom. She loves scratches."
He encouraged the children to come closer. "Pet her right here," he demonstrated, rubbing a spot between Betsy's horns. "She loves it."
Lilly and Darius, forgetting their earlier exhaustion, dove in, their hands rubbing the cow's thick, smooth coat. Darius, applying his military logic, started a rhythmic, deep-tissue massage. "The spine is secure, Father. Maximum petting pressure applied."
Alexia approached the task with professional curiosity, her small fingers lightly assessing the thickness of the hide and the warmth emanating from the large body. "Her temperature is perfectly regulated. And her reaction to tactile stimuli is positive. A truly domesticated species."
Alex, however, simply leaned his head against her flank, taking in the steady, rhythmic thump-thump of her heart. He felt a deep, calming sense of peace he hadn't realized he was missing.
Lucia remained by Betsy's head, gently patting her nose. Betsy responded by leaning her massive head down slightly, nudging Lucia's silver hair with a soft, warm breath. The little vampire princess giggled, her ruby eyes sparkling.
"She likes me, Daddy!" Lucia declared.
"She does," Rowan agreed, his heart swelling at the sight. "And because she likes you all so much, who wants a little ride?"
Lilly and Lucia's eyes lit up immediately. Rowan scooped up Lilly and set her gently onto Betsy's broad, warm back, just behind the thick shoulder hump. He then lifted Lucia and set her in front of her older sister.
Betsy remained perfectly still, a picture of bovine patience, merely flicking her tail once.
"Hold on tight, little riders!" Rowan said, giving Betsy another pat. He then let the other three have a short turn, one by one.
When everyone had had their turn, and Lucia was back on the ground, she gave Betsy a heartfelt hug around her muzzle. "You're the softest, Betsy. You need a friend."
Rowan's smile softened. "You're right, Lucia. She does. It's too lonely for her in here by herself, even with all the food and clucking chicken." He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"Unfortunately, acquiring a magical cow companion is a little out of my current budget. But I promise, the moment I sell some of these premium crops, Betsy will have a new friend to talk to."
He then led them away from the cow's stall, down a short passage toward a smaller, more enclosed section of the barn.
"And now, meet the other producers of the Blacksun farm. The eggs don't just magically appear, you know!"
He opened the door to the chicken coop. It was impeccably clean, filled with fresh hay and a low, warm light. A dozen hens of varying, beautiful plumage, from iridescent black to mottled brown, were busy scratching and clucking softly, completely unfazed by the visitors.
Their eggs were nestled neatly in designated, cushioned boxes.
"These are our hens. They all lay the biggest, most colorful, and tastiest eggs in the region," Rowan explained, pointing to a box filled with eggs of various hues: deep blue, speckled brown, and soft cream. "Each hen has her own style."
Darius, ever practical, pointed to a large hen with brilliant, almost iridescent green feathers. "That one looks like a fighter, Father. What's her yield?"
"That is Henrietta," Rowan answered. "And she lays one beautiful, emerald green egg every two days. High quality, low frequency. A specialized asset."
Alexia walked over and gently selected a small, perfectly cream-colored egg. "The shell integrity is excellent. And the color variation suggests a highly diverse diet and breeding profile. Fascinating."
Lilly and Lucia simply watched the hens with wide-eyed wonder, amused by their soft clucking and busy scratching.
Rowan smiled, taking in the domestic scene. His five children, the chicken, and the gentle rhythm of the farm. With them enjoying the farm and having eaten 3 full meals, Rowan would spend the rest of the evening playing with them.
But before that, he took a quick look at the wooden beams high above the barn were beings invisible to others but obvious to him, magically camouflaged individuals.
These individuals were all over the farm estate, inside and out but none of them ever actually stepped into the main house. These were vampire ninjas, the main bodyguards of the Bloodsworth clan.
They were obviously here to protect their newest, youngest member and precious princess, Lucia. Since they had maintained enough courtesy not to step into his house, he would let them be. He was sure they would make live reports to wherever Cheryl was now.
You know what, let's give them a quick scare. Rowan stared directly into the eyes of one of the vampire ninjas and did the same to every single one that was in the barn.
Brrr! They all shivered in fright as they could feel the gaze of a predator lock onto them. Their instincts screamed for them to run but they held back. They knew the man wouldn't hurt them. He hadn't done so when the young lady, Cheryl, was living here.
They were glad this man wasn't an enemy. He was basically half a boss to them, given that he is the father of their youngest miss. With that said, they still had to provide Lady Cheryl with the end of day report.
This was simple as they quietly relayed the report to one of the ninjas outside the farm, who then reported to the family butler using a whisperstone.