The System Sent Me to Breed an All-Female Amazon Tribe-Chapter 155: Clay Wants to Kill Me for Peeping On Her!

"Ah! We haven’t introduced you guys properly, have we?" Roselyn said, voice light and playful.

She leaned forward slightly, elbows planted firm on the table, pink steak held between thumb and forefinger.

Her golden eyes met mine directly, corners crinkling as she smiled wide enough to show all her white teeth.

One sharp canine glinted when she tilted her head. "This is Claire; the captain of Fairylynch’s ground division."

She gestured with the steak toward Claire, flicking her wrist in a lazy motion.

Claire froze mid-bite, small piece of ribbon candy halfway to her mouth.

Her violet bob shifted as she looked up, cheeks already flushing a soft rose.

She set the candy down carefully, fingers brushing crumbs from her lips with quick, nervous pats.

Eh? This small and cute Claire is in the military?

Claire’s eyes widened a fraction, lashes fluttering once.

She opened her mouth and closed it, then managed a small, awkward smile, her lips pressed tight, corners turned up just enough to be polite.

Was she this shy in bed a while ago?

One hand smoothed the front of her skirt flat against her thigh, fingers pressing hard as if to steady herself.

I see.

There aren’t any real threats around, and I don’t find any one more suitable, unlike Roselyn.

Roselyn laughed, short and bright, her head tipping back so her braid swung. "You were just thinking she’d make a cute general, right?!"

Not really. I was worrying for her safety.

"And this is Clay; she is the strongest fairy in Fairylynch, you know," Roselyn continued, smirk widening.

She leaned sideways, elbow nudging Clay’s arm playfully. "Even I who trained her would need to use tricks, else I’ll get maimed by her. Ahaha!"

Roselyn’s laugh rolled out full and easy, shoulders shaking. She slapped the table once, light and affectionate, making the leaf tremble and the dishes sway on their stems.

"P... Please, don’t say such things, Roselyn!" Clay’s cute small voice travelled across the dining area, so cute!

Then her head snapped up.

Her longer violet strands framed wide eyes, pupils large in the soft light.

Both hands flew to her cheeks, pressing hard as if to cool the sudden heat flooding them.

Her mouth opened and closed twice before words came out, voice high and trembling. "I hate violence, and I would rather settle things peacefully."

She spoke quickly, words tumbling over each other. One hand dropped to grip the edge of her seat, knuckles paling.

The other hovered near her plate, fingers twitching like she wanted to hide behind the orb.

"Says the horny fairy who nearly burst my skull yesterday," Roselyn playfully jabbed her, as her face went even more crimson.

Roselyn reached across, poking Clay’s cheek with one finger—gentle but insistent.

Clay flinched, squeaking once, then buried her face in both hands.

Her shoulders curled inward, ears glowing bright red through her hair. "Ah, n-n-no! That was uh... It was..." She tried and failed to defend herself, voice muffled behind her palms, trailing off into small, incoherent sounds.

THIS was the strongest fairy here?

I’m assuming that excludes people like Isabelle, those two eerie but beautiful attendants of the fairy Queen, and the Fairy Queen, Titania herself.

But Clay looks so weak...

Clay peeked through her fingers once, eyes darting to me, then away again. Her blush spread down her neck. She shrank smaller in her seat, knees pressing together under the table, hands still covering most of her face.

{Master, use [Serpentine Gaze] to look at her.}

I paused mid-bite, fork hovering over the pink heart-shaped candy.

Clay sat across from me, small hands delicately pinching another piece of her donut-like food, violet strands falling forward as she brought it to her lips. So cute!

[Hm? I guess so. It can see what is normally hidden...!]

I blinked once, focusing inward. The familiar tingle spread behind my eyes; cool and sharp, like staring into deep water.

[Serpentine Gaze] activated at once.

And... The moment it activated, the cute little Clay now seemed like a horrifying monster from fairytales; black smoky tendrils were drifting from her as she ate her donut-like meal with her small mouth.

The tendrils rose slow and lazy from her shoulders, her back, curling upward in thin wisps that dissolved into the air above her head.

They weren’t solid, more like ink bleeding through water—dark, oily, constantly shifting. Her small mouth kept chewing, cheeks puffing gently with each bite, completely unaware.

The contrast made my stomach drop.

Cute face, innocent gestures, and those black coils drifting like smoke from a hidden fire.

But when I tried to observe deeper—

TWIII!

A silver fork that had been lying dormant on the table was now inches from piercing my throat.

The prongs gleamed cold under the green-gold light. The handle pointed straight at my Adam’s apple, steady, unmoving.

There was no tremble or hesitation at all. Just sudden, perfect alignment.

"...Eh?! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!"

Clay’s voice cracked high and frantic.

Her eyes went wide, pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

Both of her hands flew up, her fingers splayed, fork dropping from them with a clatter against the leaf-table.

She jerked backward so fast her stool scraped once, violet hair whipping across her face.

Then she bowed forward almost to the table, forehead nearly touching the wood, shoulders hunched tight, small frame shaking.

"I’m so sorry, Benjamin! I didn’t mean— I just— it was instinctive— please forgive me!"

Words tumbled out in a rush, voice pitching higher with each apology.

Her hands fluttered uselessly in front of her chest, then clasped together hard, knuckles whitening. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, not quite falling yet.

Roselyn laughed, short and genuine, and reached across the table. Her brown skinned hand closed gently around Clay’s upper arm, fingers wrapping firm but careful.

"Easy, easy," Roselyn said, voice warm, teasing edge softened. She tugged once, pulling Clay down from her half-standing position. "Don’t worry. He’s not hurt."

Clay let herself be guided back to her seat, still bowing her head, cheeks flaming crimson.

She sank down slowly, hands now gripping the edge of the table, fingers digging into the soft leaf surface.

GULP!

S... Scary!

Maybe she realized someone was searching her, I did too when Medline used it on me, but Clay had—without even looking at me—flown on the table and nearly stabbed me, while her other hand still fed herself those donuts.

Is she an assassin?!