The System Sent Me to Breed an All-Female Amazon Tribe

By the way, this ale was good.

It appears to have some sort of apple flavor in it. I took another sip, letting the liquid roll across my tongue.

It was smooth and refreshing, with a sweetness that balanced the bitterness of the hops.

I could see why it was so popular.

Ale was basically beer, actually, and it was shockingly safer to drink than water, which could be easily contaminated unlike processed ale.

So apparently, even kids drank small ale here.

I had noticed a group of preteens clustered around a table nearby, each one nursing a small cup of the amber liquid with the casual ease of seasoned drinkers.

It was a stark contrast to my world, where such behavior would have been met with certain outrage and condemnation.

Also, the human age for adulthood was apparently 15.

The revelation had come earlier, during a casual conversation with Eric, and it had taken me a moment to process.

Fifteen years old. Children, by my standards, were considered full adults here, expected to take on responsibilities and make decisions that would shape the rest of their lives.

Well, it was actually more of a spectrum: in some parts, 12-year-olds are seen as adults and can be greatly penalized for wrongdoing as if they were, what I would call, full grown adults.

And seriously, their 15-year-olds acted quite mature; more mature than Amazon children and even beastkin children.

I know it doesn’t excuse the fact that they’re still small children, but I had seen them in action, had watched them carry themselves with a seriousness that was unnatural from my perspective.

Even Sophia and Sapphire: though they’re not kids at all, they actually act like kids in mannerism, but they don’t usually make kid-like decisions in practice.

As for the fairies, it almost seems like they just never grow up—forever young in every way, with only few exceptions.

They were eternal children, timeless and carefree.

Ah, that strong emo girl from earlier and her Aladdin-like partner were coming downstairs with what seemed to be some of their party members.

My eyes tracked their descent down the staircase, taking in the sight of the small, dark-haired girl and the orange-haired man who followed her like a shadow.

They moved with purpose, their eyes scanning the room with the vigilance of seasoned warriors.

They were a lot of them actually; maybe 40 of them. It was massive, a small army of adventurers who had clearly been assembled for a specific purpose.

Whereas Eric had only seven members; his party was small, intimate, a tight-knit group of friends and allies who trusted each other implicitly.

This other group was impersonal, professional, a collection of individuals who had been brought together by a shared goal rather than personal connections.

But c’mon, with the seven members of Eric they took down a mature dragon themselves… with a tiny, little help from me, but still.

They’re awesome.

The thought brought a smile to my face, and a warmth to my chest.

They had faced grim odds and somehow emerged victorious… They fought with courage and determination so I could not help but admire.

Huh…

Sh… She’s glaring at me, the emo girl.

So adorable, with her small head and black lips.

Her dark eyes were fixed on me, boring into me with a seriousness that would have been unsettling if I were not so used to being stared at.

As I wondered if she would approach me, she actually did.

She started moving towards me slowly, and Aladdin followed her like there was an invincible rope tying them together. Her steps were measured, deliberate, each one bringing her closer to my table with the inevitability of a predator stalking its prey.

Her dark eyes were still fixated on me, not losing attention, as if she was trying to challenge me.

I could feel the weight of her gaze, and I could sense the curiosity—or, to be honest, suspicion—that lurked behind her stoic expression.

She was studying me, analyzing me, trying to understand what I was and where I had come from.

Wait, I’m not leaking magic power like before, am I?!

I had been careless once and let it slip, only to get exposed to the adventurers.

I can’t not afford to make that mistake again, or risk drawing more attention than I already had.

“Uhm… H-Hello?” I smiled at her as she reached my table.

My voice was friendly, inviting, a gesture of goodwill that I hoped would disarm her hostility.

“…”

She ignored me!

Then walked off to the farthest corner of the hall, still watching (glaring, really) at me.

Her rejection was absolute, a cold dismissal that left me feeling strangely heartbroken.

[So this is what a break-up feels like…? Interesting.]

“Tsk. Lucky.” A certain pervert clicked her tongue, assuming I took that much damage from being ignored.

Heka’s tone was dripping with envy, her eyes tracking the girl’s retreating form with a hunger that could make the skin crawl.

It appears she and Aladdin are closer than the rest of the party.

In fact, they don’t seem to have any real connection to more than half of their party members.

This really was strictly just a job to them?

They were not friends or allies in any meaningful sense. They were colleagues, professionals who had been thrown together by circumstance and necessity… I guess.

Hmph! I knew Eric was better.

“Benjamin…should I walk over to the little girl and teach her a lesson?” Heka asked, somehow getting really serious.

Her voice was low, dangerous, and there was a glint in her eyes that I had never seen before. “You have done nothing to warrant such passive hostility from her. Just a swift chop to her throat will do.”

“No… do not murder the girl,” I furrowed my brow at how Heka tried to mask the gruesome intent to behead my stalker.

Amazons are rather freakish, and they train every day on how to use their bodies in case their weapons become invalid in battle.

The thought was a reminder of how different she was, how different all Amazons were. They were warriors, born and bred, and every aspect of their lives was dedicated to the pursuit of combat excellence.

A serious chop from Heka will severe a head from the body… but I don’t think that emo girl will receive any damage, though.

The emo girl was powerful, perhaps more powerful than I think. She is not someone to be underestimated.

Ah! I see.

Heka knows this truth and wants to get emo girl to hurt her instead, right?!

“You masochist! You just want her to fight back and pleasure you!” I snapped at her, since she’s been being extra masochistic the moment her family couldn’t see her anymore.

The accusation was sharp, pointed, but there was no real anger behind it. I knew her too well, knew the games she played and the desires she harbored.

“You misunderstand, Benjamin,” she didn’t get shocked or deny the fact, she just had this serious expression I rarely see. Her face was hard, her eyes cold, and there was a steel in her voice that silenced my protests. “I certainly will derive bliss if she assaulted me in any way… But that is not what I’m talking about. If you were not present, this city would truly be in a big mess. Leaving you unrewarded is already miffing, but glaring at you is…”

Heka’s eyes turned and locked on the girl at the corner, as bloodlust began to seep through very slowly, but extraordinarily.

The air around her seemed to thicken, the temperature dropping as her anger radiated outward. She was not playing, not teasing, not indulging in her usual masochistic fantasies. She was seriously angry and protective, and that was more terrifying than anything I had ever seen from her.