The System Sent Me to Breed an All-Female Amazon Tribe-Chapter 135: The Obsessive Love of a Fairy

Clay’s POV

Claire and I stood shoulder to shoulder in the training hollow, our feet planted wide on the glowing moss.

We were practicing the hardest technique our teacher Roselyn had ever taught us: the [Instant Power Spike].

Where you channel every scrap of magic into your fist at the exact moment of impact, so the strike lands with the full force of your entire body plus the burst of energy.

With one wrong timing and you shatter your own wrist; but one perfect timing and you can punch through solid boulders.

We took turns striking the padded log target. Claire went first, with her violet bob swaying as she exhaled, her fist glowing violet-white, then BAM!

The log cracked down the middle, with splinters flying. Then she grinned proudly.

It was my turn. I breathed in, felt the magic coil in my core like a spring, then released it all at the last heartbeat.

My knuckles connected, in a violet flash, and the log broke cleanly in half.

We were getting good. Really good.

Roselyn is sure to praise us and pat our heads.

But before she’d even notice our progress, a... human walked into the training area.

He moved with this certainty, boots soft on the moss, brown pants fitted but simple, his tunic loose around his shoulders yet somehow accentuating the lean lines of his chest and arms.

The tunic was plain homespun wool dyed a muted forest green, gathered at the waist by a thin leather belt, with his sleeves rolled to the elbows, collar open enough to show the hollow of his throat.

It was nothing ornate or flashy, but just practical clothing that looked like it belonged to someone who walked long roads and slept under stars. A simple commoner, and unremarkable.

But...

His eyes were the first thing that stole my breath: blue diamonds lodged in the sockets, so clear and piercing, catching the crystal light like trapped sky.

A faint, misty blue aura snaked lazily around his form, not aggressive, just... there, like morning fog clinging to a still lake.

His face was unbelievably attractive—handsome and beautiful at the same time, with soft jawline and high cheekbones, light brown hair framing his features in gentle waves that brushed his collarbones.

He had pink lips and a fair skin kissed by sun but not burned, and he was androgynous enough that only his mannerisms—the easy roll of his shoulders and the slight forward tilt when he looked around—told me he was possibly male.

And he had just defeated Roselyn, our all-powerful teacher, without really touching her.

Roselyn—who once fought a titan alone, though after Titania had already weakened it with a barrage of celestial magic, and still won—had been terrified by something the human did.

And her leg broke the moment it hit his head.

But not even a scratch on him. He’d barely lifted a hand, besides defend or evade her.

I think... I fell in love with him at first sight.

But—

"Nggh!" Claire grumbled beside me, her violet eyes narrowing. "What’s with that human trying to steal Roselyn away from us?!"

Uhm... Roselyn was the one on the offensive, though; her golden eyes blazing and her braid whipping as she shamelessly lunged at him again and again.

Claire’s tone was sharp, but somehow almost jealous. Was my sister... hating Benjamin Mark or liking him?

I thought so until Roselyn suddenly grabbed his arm, grinning like a sly wolf, and started dragging him toward her private chamber.

"Ah, he’s going away!" Claire’s face shifted, with concern flickering across it so fast I almost missed it. "Clay, let’s follow them! We’ll say we wanted to make sure he wouldn’t hurt Roselyn for revenge!"

What a lame excuse, sister...

Nevertheless, we flew after them on silent wings, staying high among the vine bridges and glowing veins in the tree walls.

I couldn’t help thinking Claire was also interested in the human, but she was just being dishonest about it.

***

SLURP. SLURP.

Well, here we are... in Roselyn’s chamber.

SLURP. SLURP.

The sounds of sucking and wet mouths filled the place.

Miss Isabelle was kissing Benjamin; deep and hungry, their tongues sliding visibly between their lips, saliva stretching in thin strings every time they parted for breath.

Claire and I were on either side of them, working on their crotch.

Roselyn—or the mess that used to be Roselyn—was quivering on the floor in a heap.

Glassy golden eyes half-lidded an her tongue lolling, while she was muttering strange, broken words under her breath.

Her pussy kept spasming, sending little squirts of clear juice arcing onto the floor every few seconds.

Her torn crop top hung in rags around her shoulders, her breasts bare and heaving, with the dark nipples still rigid.

B-Benjamin killed her!!

Actually, not really.

A while ago, they’d suddenly turned it into some kind of lewd competition: their tongues slobbering in chaotic, open-mouthed kisses, saliva dripping down chins and necks in glistening trails.

Benjamin’s hands had already slipped inside her lower garment; fingers moving fast, the black fabric darkening further as fresh wetness spread visibly across the crotch in widening, irregular patches.

Roselyn’s hips bucked and her thighs trembled with every thrust of his hand making more liquid seep through the material until it clung transparently to her swollen cunt’s lips.

The battle became so intense that Roselyn started cheating.

[You two! H-Help out a teacher! I’m going to lose here!]

Her voice rang clear inside my head, sharp and desperate.

[Like I taught you before—spread your legs like Isabelle’s doing. But just be your cute, adorable sel—hnng!!]

Ah, the transmission cut off as Benjamin curled his fingers harder inside her, making her whole body jerk.

Anyway, things happened fast after that, and Roselyn lost woefully.

Benjamin’s cock twitched in her grip one final time, with thick ropes of white essence erupting in forceful arcs.

The first spurt caught her cheek, landing in a hot, sticky stripe across her flushed skin.

The second one hit her neck, rolling down in slow, viscous trails toward her collarbone.

A third and fourth splashed across her exposed breasts; pearly strands landing on the upper curves, dripping down the slopes to pool in the valley between them and clinging to her dark nipples before sliding off in heavy drops.

More followed, painting her stomach and her thighs, even catching in her braid. The scent filled the room; musky and harsh, so... overwhelming.

Ahhhh... I didn’t want to admit it, but I wanted him to do that to me too.