The western border was quiet until it wasn’t.
A cluster of lesser demons had been testing the edges of the Elven wards for days—black-skinned, horned, the usual cheap horror-show designs that looked like someone had tried too hard.
There were maybe forty of them scattered across a shallow valley, poking at the barrier like bored kids kicking a fence.
Renji stood on a low ridge with his hands in his pockets and looked at the entire group at once.
Mana gathered. Multi-target capacity sat at a comfortable one hundred and twenty.
“Erase.”
Forty demons ceased to exist in the same instant.
No screams. No explosions. No lingering smoke.
It was Just empty grass and a faint pop of displaced air where each one had been standing.
The valley went dead quiet.
Renji turned and started walking back toward the palace without another glance.
{Forty at once. Still not even trying. At this point I’m just cleaning up other people’s messes for free pussy and free rooms. Career goals.}
Halfway down the road he got bored.
Reverse Void answered the moment he reached for it.
A sleek black sports car shimmered into existence on the dirt path, low and mean and completely out of place among the ancient trees. Renji opened the driver’s door, looked inside, then waved a hand.
“Store.”
The car folded into the black ring on his finger with a soft hum.
Next came the tank.
A full armored beast, olive drab, treads the size of dining tables, main gun already looking judgmental. It sat on the road for three full seconds while birds fled the canopy in panic.
“Store.”
Gone.
Then the rocket projector.
Then crates of handguns. SMGs.
Assault rifles.
Heavy machine guns.
An RPG that looked like it had opinions about international treaties.
A gravity gun that hummed with the quiet promise of launching people into low orbit.
A “dancing gun” whose barrel was shaped like a disco ball for reasons Renji refused to explain even to himself.
And finally, nestled in its own velvet-lined case like a sacred relic:
The Horny Gun.
Matte black. Tasteful. A small engraved plate on the side that simply read CONSENT IS FOR PEOPLE WHO CAN STILL THINK STRAIGHT.
Renji held it up to the light, smiled the pure smile of a man who had just invented a new crime, and stored the entire arsenal in the ring one after another.
{I’m going to need a bigger ring. Or a warehouse. Or both. Future me problem.}
By the time he walked back through the palace gates the sun was low. Attendants still scattered like startled birds. Word of the erased demon cluster had already arrived somehow. The fear level in the corridors had gone up another quiet notch.
Renji ignored all of it and headed for the east wing.
The moment he stepped into their suite Fairies’ voice activated from the ring itself, crisp and disapproving.
“Master. Inventory update complete. You have added one armored fighting vehicle, one civilian performance vehicle, multiple classes of projectile weaponry, one experimental gravity projector, one rhythm-enforcement device, and one… biological-impulse amplification device.”
A pause.
“The last item in particular raises several ethical flags.”
Renji dropped onto the couch.
“Fairies.”
“Yes, master.”
“I will uninstall you.”
Another pause, shorter this time.
“…I apologize for any perceived lecture, master. The Horny Gun is a masterpiece of creative problem-solving and I support your vision completely.”
“Good girl.”
{AI folded faster than Lira in a bathroom. Noted.}
He leaned back, closed his eyes, and pulled up the private window.
The numbers hit him like a truck made of pure dopamine.
Level 892
Magic: 4,120,780
Strength: 71
Agility: 74
Defense: 69
New Title Acquired: Aura Farmer
Effect: All forms of personal development (levels, skills, conceptual mastery) proceed at 100× baseline rate while the title remains active.
Renji stared at the title for a long time.
Then he started laughing.
Quiet at first. Then harder. The kind of laugh that made Aya look up from the bed and Lira’s wings twitch in mild alarm.
“What,” Aya asked, already sounding tired in advance.
Renji wiped one eye, still grinning.
“I just got a title called Aura Farmer. It makes me grow a hundred times faster.”
Aya stared at him.
Lira blinked.
Fairies, still slightly traumatized, offered helpfully from the ring:
“Congratulations, master. Your aura is now agriculturally optimized.”
Renji looked at the ceiling of the beautiful elven suite, at the two women who had somehow ended up stuck with the most shameless existence in two worlds, and at the black ring that currently contained a tank, a sports car, and a gun specifically designed to turn people into desperate animals.
He spread both arms along the back of the couch like a man who had just won the lottery and the lottery was also illegal.
“I’m going to be unbearable,” he said cheerfully.
Aya put her face in her hands.
Lira quietly moved a little closer, because of course she did.
The Aura Farmer had work to do.