Morning light filtered down through sixty meters of water in soft blue shafts.
Renji stood at the observation window for a minute, watching the pale sand of the Elven shoreline rise ahead of them. Then he turned away and held out his left hand.
Mana gathered. Reverse Void answered.
A plain black ring formed around his index finger—matte, unadorned, heavy with storage space that should not have fit inside something so small. He looked at the submarine around them one last time, then spoke quietly.
“Fairies. Transfer entire vessel and all systems into the ring.”
“Confirmed, master.”
The cabin walls, the humming converters, the radar console, the wide bed still carrying the scent of the previous night—everything folded inward with a low, pressure-shifting sound and vanished into the ring. The three of them stood barefoot on wet sand as the last of the water drained away from where the hull had been. Waves lapped at their ankles. The Elven coastline stretched in both directions, green and gold under the early sun.
Aya adjusted her cloak and checked that both girls still had their packs. Lira’s wings fluttered once in the open air, then settled. Renji slipped the new ring fully onto his finger and started walking inland without ceremony.
They followed a narrow coastal path that soon widened into a proper road lined with pale-barked trees. The air smelled different here—cleaner, sharper, with a faint sweetness that did not exist in the human kingdom. Bird calls filtered through the canopy. No wanted posters. No human patrols.
The first elven arrows came without warning.
A dozen shafts hissed out of the high branches, aimed with the kind of precision that only centuries of practice produced. Renji did not dodge. He simply looked at the stretch of forest the archers occupied—trees, platforms, the elves themselves—and spoke one word.
“Erase.”
The entire section of woodland ceased to exist.
A clean black void appeared where trees and archers had been, perfectly rectangular, edges sharp as cut glass. For half a second the surrounding forest held its shape out of sheer momentum. Then the earth itself collapsed inward to fill the emptiness. A deep, rolling shockwave raced outward. Trees toppled in a wide ring. The road cracked. A sound like the world grinding its teeth echoed across the canopy.
The remaining elves—those far enough away to survive—stared at the new crater of raw, settling earth for one frozen heartbeat. Then they turned and ran.
Renji kept walking.
Aya and Lira followed close behind him. Neither spoke. The crater smoked faintly at the edges as displaced soil continued to settle.
The road led them straight to the outer walls of the Elven capital. Pale stone. Elegant towers that looked grown rather than built. The gates stood open; whatever guards had been stationed there had already fled the news of the erased forest. Renji passed through without slowing.
The palace rose at the heart of the city—tall, luminous, all white stone and living wood woven together. Attendants in flowing silver-green robes rushed down the wide steps as the three of them approached. Several stopped short when they recognized the humans and the fairy. One older elf stepped forward, face carefully neutral.
“State your purpose.”
“I want to see your queen,” Renji said.
“Her Majesty is currently asleep and cannot be disturbed.”
Renji looked at the attendant the same way he looked at most inconveniences.
“No she isn’t.”
A short silence.
Another attendant, younger, found her voice. “Why did you destroy the outer forest and those who guarded it?”
“They shot first.”
Before the conversation could go further, a third messenger hurried down the steps—an elf in darker formal robes, breathing slightly hard.
“Her Majesty will receive the human man. The two women accompanying him will be shown to guest rooms and given every courtesy.”
Renji’s eyes narrowed a fraction.
“They stay with me.”
Aya touched his arm lightly. “We’ll be fine. Go. We’ll find you after.”
Lira nodded as well, though her wings stayed tight against her back. Renji looked at both of them for a long moment, then gave a short nod.
“Don’t wander.”
Two attendants led Aya and Lira away along a side corridor. Renji followed the messenger up the main steps and into the palace proper. The halls were tall, filled with soft light that seemed to come from the walls themselves. No one tried to stop him. Word of the erased forest had clearly traveled faster than he had walked.
The throne room doors opened onto a wide, airy chamber of white stone and living branches. At the far end, on a raised seat of woven pale wood and silver, sat the Elven Queen.
She was tall even seated. Long silver-blonde hair fell in a thick cascade over one shoulder. Her face was ageless in the way of high elves—beautiful, composed, and carrying the quiet weight of centuries. The traditional gown she wore was a deep forest green that flowed from a high collar down to the floor in elegant, layered lines. The fabric was modest by human standards, covering everything, yet it somehow made her look more untouched than any bare skin could have. Long sleeves. A fitted bodice that suggested rather than revealed. The whole effect was one of deliberate, ancient innocence.
Renji walked the length of the chamber and stopped at the base of the dais without kneeling or bowing.
He looked at her for a moment, then spoke in the same flat, conversational tone he used with everyone else.
“You’re beautiful.”
The queen’s expression did not change, but something flickered behind her eyes—surprise, perhaps, or simple recalibration at the complete lack of courtly language.
Inside Renji’s head the rest of the thought finished itself without ever reaching his mouth.
{That gown looks like pure elvish innocence. And I really do love making the innocent squirt.}
Luckily he kept the second part to himself.
Otherwise the day might have ended in an actual war.