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The System Sent Me to Breed an All-Female Amazon Tribe-Chapter 215: Clay Was Fighting the Second Born Who Appeared to Be the Strongest
And those Children—unlike the Eldest Born standing far off on her platform—didn’t seem to possess much detectable magic power at all.
At least not the kind I could sense radiating outward in any meaningful way.
There was no much glow, or any pulsing aura of reinforcement, and no telltale shimmer in the air that would suggest they were actively channeling magic to strengthen their bodies or enhance their durability.
So it must mean that even a fully powered-up Clay, the same Clay who had been tearing through the lesser Children like they were nothing more than weak, wet wool, ripping limbs free with casual swings of her club, shattering torsos with single blows—couldn’t truly hurt these five Borns without significant effort.
Their grey, mud-like skin might look unstable and sloppy from a distance, but up close it clearly held a level of resilience far beyond the swarming fodder she had been dismantling so effortlessly moments earlier.
Roselyn and Claire surged forward to join her without hesitation, but no other fairy dared poke their heads into this particular fight.
They all knew instinctively that this clash was clearly above their capabilities—leagues beyond what the average fairy warrior could survive, let alone contribute to.
The air around the five anomalous Borns felt heavier and more oppressive, like standing too close to a storm about to break.
Roselyn launched herself skyward first, accelerating to incredible speeds almost immediately, her body streaking through the air like a darting aircraft cutting through clouds, her golden braid whipping behind her in a long, shimmering tail.
Claire wasn’t far behind, her wings blurring as she joined the race, matching Roselyn’s velocity with her own explosive bursts of movement.
The two of them closed the distance in heartbeats, turning what had been a slow advance into a sudden, violent convergence.
Wait... three against five was a bit unfair, wasn’t it?
On paper, at least.
Would they really be able to go far against opponents who had just watched their lesser siblings get mulched without so much as caring?
But my doubts were thrown aside almost as quickly as they formed.
They were surprisingly doing very well. BETTER than well, actually.
They were holding their own with confidence, treating the Children like... well, children.
Without panicking or hesitation, but with precise and brutal efficiency.
The one which my ability had labeled as the Second Born Titan was currently locked in combat with Clay.
It had the clear silhouette of a woman; with slender, elongated limbs, two prominent bulges on its chest that marked it visually as female in shape.
Like all the others, it was completely naked, its grey, wet-clay skin shifting and rippling with every movement, yet somehow maintaining a disturbingly coherent humanoid form.
It had no armor and weapon, but it had no need for them; its body itself seemed weapon enough.
The Third Born stood out immediately as the bulkiest of the group;
Seemingly muscular, with exaggerated definition: thick abs carved into its midsection, biceps that bulged like knotted ropes, and shoulders broad enough to block out the sky behind it.
It towered at least ten feet tall, or maybe more, making even the other High Borns look comparatively average in scale.
And every step it took sent little tremors through the torn-up ground.
The Fourth Born was also quite muscled, but on a smaller, more proportionate scale than the hulking Third.
It was still ripped, and definitely still powerful, but built for speed and precision rather than sheer overwhelming mass.
The Fifth Born occupied a strange middle ground: sorta muscular like the others, yet not fully registering as either male or female in silhouette.
The lines of its body blurred in subtle ways; broad shoulders tapering to a narrower waist, but no clear secondary sexual characteristics to properly pin it down.
It moved with the same eerie fluidity as its siblings, grey flesh flowing like slow liquid over an invisible frame.
And they all seemed basically bald, unlike the Eldest Born who had hair.
But apart from them having just golden glows for eyes, it sometimes feels like they were...sneering...
Ah, I had almost forgotten about the last one. The Sixth Born.
Like all its siblings, it possessed a well-shaped, perfect humanoid silhouette:
Graceful curves in all the right places, hips flaring, waist cinching, and limbs long and elegant.
But compared to the others, it was noticeably more petite and delicate in build... though "petite" was relative here.
Even at around seven feet tall, it still loomed over any normal humanoid, its presence simple but undoubtedly dangerous.
Despite their "skin" being the same grey, wet-clay consistency as the lesser Children, it held a far stronger stability.
Like, it was less bubbling and random shifting, with no organs popping out in wrong places like the Eldest Born’s grotesque form.
These five looked nearly sculpted and intentional, as though someone had taken the raw chaos of the Children and refined it into something "refined" but still lethal.
Clay was currently fighting the Second Born, who appeared to be the strongest among the five in terms of raw presence and power. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂
Yet she was holding her own remarkably well.
She dodged its wild, smashing strikes with explosive bursts of speed, her violet hair flashing as she weaved under haymaker punches that cratered the ground where she had stood a split second earlier.
The Second Born had no real fighting style to speak of, really.
It was just brute, rampaging force: fists swinging in wide, destructive thrusts, trying to pulverize anything in reach.
But... God help whoever actually met one of those fists head-on; the air seemed to cracked with the sheer momentum behind each blow.
However, Clay didn’t just evade like a defenseless soldier... she countered.
Occasionally she slipped inside the Second Born’s guard and struck back hard, her small fists or the remnants of her shattered club slamming into its midsection or side.
And each hit threw the towering figure off balance despite the massive size difference, with its grey flesh rippling outward from the point of impact like a stone dropped in thick mud.
The Second Born staggered, recovered, then charged again, but Clay was already moving too; darting low, spinning high, and never staying still long enough to be pinned.
Meanwhile, Roselyn and Claire fought the others in a more random, fluid pattern: switching targets as needed, covering each other’s flanks, while striking and retreating in perfect tandem.
The rest of the fairies continued mopping up the endless waves of lesser Children farther back, keeping the swarm contained so it couldn’t interfere with the main clash.
But... meh.
These so-called "demon generals" I hadexpected to be as powerful as the Queen all turned out to be a complete fluke.
The Children as a whole were way weaker than the Eldest Born; cannon fodder, really.
The real threat had always been the Eldest herself, still watching from afar.
But something occurred next that shifted everything—







