The System Sent Me to Breed an All-Female Amazon Tribe-Chapter 111: Just Wondering If "Bout" Means Something Immoral

Chapter 111: Just Wondering If "Bout" Means Something Immoral

Benjamin’s statement made Roselyn burst into laughter, covering her mouth with one hand.

"Kidnapped? By Her Majesty? That’s not something simple, even for Queen Titania, to forcefully teleport a person. You must have an incredibly weak resistance to spatial influence. Like... embarrassingly weak. No offense, though."

[Offense taken!]

"Stop laughing at him!" Isabelle rebuked her sister, but still nodded gravely. "Though, it’s not an appropriate state to be in, Benjamin. You ought to develop your spatial resistance quickly, or some really bad people could take you.

"There are entities out there like, demons, rogue mages, or even bored gods who specialize in snatching god-touched individuals like yourself. If your defenses are that porous, you will well-nigh be a sitting duck."

Though Benjamin laughed and scratched his head like a sheep, he didn’t tell them that he, in fact, has quite a lot of Spatial powers himself, but was only suffering from Sakura’s hoax since around Chapter 21 or so.

The fox queen teleport tag had left him wide open to spatial shenanigans ever since. He believed it would wear off in the next two weeks’ time... but was starting to doubt it.

Soon, the lights everywhere slowly dimmed.

The magical sun orb high above Fairylynch began to fade into a gentle twilight glow, before winking out entirely, leaving the realm in a soft night. With only dots of stars and space visible.

But the natural lights of the trees and fairy dust lit up the place.

Bioluminescent veins in the colossal trunks pulsed like slow heartbeats; flowers opened to release pale silver radiance; floating orbs drifted lazily, casting pools of moonlight-blue across mossy platforms and vine bridges.

It now looked like a lit-up nighttime city; dark in some areas where light didn’t touch, or where the plants lacked luminescent qualities, but glowing and alive everywhere else.

Shadows danced between glowing roots; as some smaller, rat-sized fairies fluttered like living stars; distant laughter carried on the sweet, dust-laden breeze.

The feeling of it was perceived by Benjamin—peaceful and magical, but strangely intimate.

***

"Benjamin, if you’re not in a hurry, can you do a bout with me?" Roselyn asked.

The entire area suddenly went pin-drop silent, and every fluttering wing reduced its intensity.

Every glowing weapon and wand lowered, as all eyes—the dozens of wide and luminous gazes—snapped toward the three of them standing near the training area entrance.

The soft hum of practice spells had also died instantly.

Benjamin suddenly felt awkward from the instant attention, with heat crawling up his neck. He could practically feel every fairy measuring him: the tall human with a weak blue aura, standing next to their strongest trainer and her big sister.

His mind raced; Benjamin never did well with too much attention, wondering if "bout" meant something more immoral than he thought.

"Uh, bout as in like a spar, right?" he clarified, with his voice breaking just a little.

Roselyn giggled lightly, soft and melodic like her elder sister’s, then glanced sideways at Isabelle. "Is he always this cute?"

Isabelle made a small blush, her cheeks darkening to a delicate rose, and she gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

Roselyn’s golden eyes sparkled as she turned back to Benjamin.

"Bouts for fairies means the same thing as it does for humans: a friendly match. Magic and weapons, or just fists—whatever you want. But no real killing intent, of course, just skill against skill."

She paused for a second, then added with a teasing tone, "You were wondering if a small weak fairy like me can fight you, right?"

Before he could answer, she closed the small distance in a single blink of speed. One heartbeat she was a step away; the next she was almost touching him, her toned body radiating warmth, the tight crop top straining slightly across her chest as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze.

Her braid swung gently against her back. And up close, the faint scars on her cheek and arms looked like silver threads woven into brown material. Her golden eyes locked on his, playful but intense.

[Ah, no, I was even wondering if "bout" meant something dirty, that’s all.]

But aloud he said, "Ah, yes. I’m sorry. I heard fairies are not built for brutal battles."

Isabelle stepped forward smoothly, peeking her small head.

"Fairies, in point of fact, used to be one of the most brutal races around," she explained with an even and informative voice. "thousands of years ago, we fought more like demons—violently and heartlessly, with raw magic tearing through armies. But we’re tamer now. Through things like civilization, treaties, and the Celestial wars across generations... we managed to learn restraint."

Benjamin thought of Titania: the way she’d stripped him naked at the summit two weeks ago with a casual flick of pink light, and how she threatened to punch his skull in while blushing like a schoolgirl a while.

He understood that she could do brutality as casual as pulling out a weed.

And so, begrudgingly, he agreed to do the match.

They walked down toward where an open shelf of weapons hung, some resting on vine pillars that grew straight out of the mushroom top like natural display stands.

The shelf itself was a work of nature’s art—thick branches woven into racks, leaves forming soft cushions under each weapon so they wouldn’t scratch the wood.

"Choose a weapon," Roselyn told him, gesturing proudly.

Benjamin looked at everything there and felt they were different from the ones in the shop he passed earlier.

Those ones had been elegant, even cute: wands that made a soft and amusing, but creepy sound; daggers of frozen moon rays, with bows strung with some utterly thin thread.

But these before him now... these were not cute at all.

Spiked clubs with cruel iron barbs that looked like they could tear flesh from bone in one swing.

Dangerously built swords with serrated edges that curved wickedly, blades etched with runes that pulsed red like fresh blood.

Whips whose heads were studded with razor-sharp obsidian shards that glinted hungrily.

War hammers with heads shaped like screaming skulls, the metal blackened as though scorched by hellfire.

Weapons with chains that ended in barbed spheres the size of fists. All of them radiated menace; practical and brutal, utterly designed to end fights quickly and messily.

Why were fairies in possession of them? Benjamin decided to ask.