"My daughter, Celeste," the noblewoman introduced with a smile that tried too hard to appear casual. Her hand rested on her daughter’s shoulder with just slightly too much pressure. "She’s fourteen years old, is a tamer of a Silver-rank beast, and has been educated in all the appropriate arts for a noble wife."
Celeste, a girl with chestnut hair and a timid expression, performed a perfect curtsy. The movement was flawless, practiced countless times until muscle memory made it automatic.
Ren immediately noticed how her eyes evaluated the mansion before looking at him.
"A pleasure to meet you," Ren responded with automatic courtesy, while internally trying to process what was happening exactly.
The butler, positioned discreetly nearby, had an expression that suggested this was exactly what he had expected. There was almost resignation in the slight downturn of his mouth.
Lady Moravin didn’t waste time. ’Our family has fallen on difficult times lately. But taking advantage of the nouveau riche before others would be a gift from heaven. I’m sure we could recover our previous status.’
There was the reason, laid bare by her poorly controlled mana that broadcast her thoughts like a town crier.
They weren’t here for who Ren was, but for what he represented... a convenient social ladder. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⁂𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⁂𝕟𝕖𝕥
Ren was formulating a polite response when another visitor arrived.
Lady Moravin wouldn’t be the only one to appear. She was simply the first.
This one was different. A young noblewoman, perhaps sixteen years old, who arrived without her parents, accompanied only by a maid. Her bearing was confident, her stride purposeful rather than hesitant.
"Lord Patinder," she said with confidence that contrasted completely with Celeste. "I’m Victoria Thornhill. I’ve heard about your cultivation methods and your participations in the kingdom’s defense. I wanted to meet the great and powerful man behind all those achievements."
She didn’t mention marriage. Didn’t need to. The intention was clear in how she positioned herself, in how her poorly controlled mana revealed much more easily than any of his elite school mates would have...
She was revealing genuine interest and "liking" when she evaluated him. Her eyes lingered on his face, his arms, his posture with an assessment that had nothing to do with political advantage.
And then another arrived. And another.
By midday, Ren found himself trapped in what could only be described as a parade of nobles presenting their daughters.
Some were clearly opportunistic, declining families seeking a lifeline. Their desperation showed in overenthusiastic compliments and exaggerated accounts of their daughters’ accomplishments. Others seemed genuinely impressed by his achievements, their respect colored by calculation about how an alliance might benefit both parties.
And a few, the most concerning, were girls who arrived on their own account, perhaps recognizing that Ren was probably one of the best matches available for their generation. These ones were dangerous... they’d chosen him, which meant they had the most agency, intelligence, and determination.
Li, Tao, and Anuar observed from their positions near the garden entrance, their expressions changing from amusement to disbelief to pure envy.
"He’s the damn messiah," Anuar murmured with amazement. "He has a harem of nobles forming in his garden."
"It’s not a harem," Tao corrected, though he sounded less convinced with each new arrival. "It’s just... many noble girls who will probably marry him."
"That’s literally what harem means," Li pointed out.
By the time the sun began setting, Ren had "met" more than twenty potential suitors. The butler finally had to intervene, establishing a system of scheduled appointments for the future because clearly this wasn’t going to stop any time soon...
The sixth day brought a different type of visitor.
The first young noble arrived early. His expression was pure resolve and something darker... jealousy and wounded pride in equal measure.
"I heard about the incident where you defeated a noble without using your hands," he announced without preamble, his jaw clenched tight enough that muscles jumped in his cheek. "It must be an exaggeration, but surely you’re not weak, so antagonizing you is a bad idea... However, I also heard about Celeste visiting you yesterday!"
Ah. Ren immediately understood that sensation in the mana. This wasn’t about politics or power. It was personal, raw, the kind of emotion that made young men do stupid things.
’But did wealthy or noble people normally not know how to circulate mana or use artifacts to hide it?’
Ren was realizing his school taught at an even better level than he’d thought. Though in reality, much of the reason for the increased skill and capabilities was him and he was underestimated his own impact.
"Celeste and I have been informally engaged by our families for years," the noble continued, his voice trembling with contained emotion. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "Until her mother decided you were a better match."
"I don’t..." Ren began.
"Prove you deserve her!" the noble interrupted, activating his fusion with all his desperate energy. He was Silver 2, with a three-horned horse, a beast that gave him increased speed.
Ren sighed. He didn’t want to do this. But apparently he had no choice.
He extended his hand casually, and the weight of shadows fell upon the noble like a physical blanket. It was a technique he’d seen Sirius use, and although Ren’s control over shadows was less than Sirius’s when fused, his five hundred percent general elemental control was more than enough against a Silver 2.
The noble froze in place, unable to move while shadow pressure kept him completely immobile. His eyes widened with panic as he realized he couldn’t even twitch a finger, couldn’t activate any techniques, couldn’t do anything but stand there like a statue.
"I don’t know what situation you think exists," Ren said honestly, "but this won’t change anything... Besides, I’m not interested in a family that only seeks its own benefit."
After exhausting him for a while, watching sweat bead on his forehead from the effort of trying to move, Ren released the noble, who collapsed to his knees gasping for air.
But he wouldn’t be the last either.
Throughout the day, more arrived. Some motivated by romantic jealousy, hearts broken by redirected engagements or unrequited feelings. Others simply wanting to test if the rumors about Ren’s strength were true, driven by competitive spirit or the need to establish dominance.
Ren handled them with creative variety.
One was "gently blown" backward with a wind gust that intensified until it left him rolling through the garden like a tumbleweed, collecting leaves and dirt in his expensive clothing.
Another discovered the ground beneath his feet had become quicksand, burying him up to his neck while his beast flailed uselessly nearby.
A third began sweating profusely when Ren raised the temperature around him with walls of fire to unbearable levels, his fusion doing nothing to protect him from the supernatural heat.
The garden and the area outside the wall began filling with failed challengers in different states of defeat. Some semi-frozen, ice crystals forming in their hair and on their eyelashes. Others hanging upside down from nearly indestructible trees, their faces red as blood rushed to their heads. A few simply passed out from dizziness after being spun repeatedly, their inner ears completely overwhelmed.
By late afternoon, the scene resembled a battlefield more than a noble estate’s garden.