The Amazons are human.
They are merely one of many ethnic groups in Eryan—neither particularly rare nor exceptionally reclusive. Though they possess their own kingdom and queen, they have no fixed homeland. These bow-wielding warriors roam through forests, for wandering is their way of life. Amazon warriors who ventured beyond their tribes were highly sought-after mercenaries, with adventuring parties vying to hire these renowned archers. As a people who remained largely neutral, they were neither more beloved nor more despised than other races.
But that was centuries ago. Now, only Erian remained as a nation upon the earth, ruled by humans who hunted what they deemed demons.
Tasha could detect the mockery in Victor's tone, but if the "devils" the human army intended to hunt were indeed the Amazonian women—who were human themselves—she wouldn't feel particularly shocked or disappointed. In her original world, humans were the only sentient beings, yet wars still erupted time and again.
The ghost continued to follow the female hunter, trailing her all the way to her dwelling place. Traces of human activity gradually appeared around them, the view opening up as the huntress's guarded posture relaxed considerably. The outline of a forest village came into view. Someone approached at a brisk pace from afar, calling out cheerfully, "Sister!"
The greeting was in the common tongue, perfectly understandable to Tasha. As the figure drew nearer, the tall, slender build and slightly youthful face became distinct. The huntress softened her expression. "Aaron."
Indeed, though appearing only fourteen or fifteen, this person's gender was unmistakable. Chest muscles, not breasts, defined his torso. His youthful face bore firm, angular lines—this was a boy. The huntress's younger brother hurried forward, whistling appreciatively at his sister's kill.
As if sensing Tasha's skeptical gaze, Victor argued, "I never said it had to be an Amazon."
"Are Amazons only female?" Tasha asked. "What about male Amazons?"
"They bear children with men from outside, but only keep the girls. Boys are returned to their fathers or discarded. Males are considered the inferior sex in Amazonian civilization. They are absolutely forbidden within Amazon settlements... ...Even the most extreme patriarchal societies wouldn't go this far—after all, men can't bear children themselves."
The boy walking openly alongside his sister back to the tribe clearly hadn't been discarded.
The ghost hovered over the village, observing its inhabitants. The settlement was vast, filled with female warriors carrying bows and arrows. Most were tall, athletic, and agile. Men were scattered throughout the settlement, seemingly no fewer in number than the women, though none were dressed as warriors. Most were engaged in tasks like maintaining weapons or processing game. "Definitely not elves," Victor remarked after observing their methods of handling the kill. "Listen to those prayers honoring the hunting god, and look at the emblems on the pillars."
But confirming whether they were Amazons wasn't the most crucial matter. Tasha had sent out more than one scouting specter, and so far, only this one had discovered the village of the female hunters. This vast settlement outnumbered the artisan dwarves settled in the dungeons. If there were larger settlements in Angasor Forest, Tasha would have found them by now.
The target the human armies were preparing to confront was most likely here.
She did not immediately reveal herself to speak with the village leader. Marion's defiant stance during their first encounter made it abundantly clear that an unidentified, faceless specter was far from an ideal emissary. As soon as Tashar located the settlement, she summoned Marion from within the dungeon. The werewolf girl was instructed to take the red-nosed artisan dwarf and set out—the ability to split herself proved invaluable, saving the time of multiple trips.
Marion carried the red-nosed dwarf, who had seen the forest dwellers, on her back, setting out lightly and simply. The ghost could point out the nearest path to the forest village, and Marion's agility was no less than that of the hunters. With such a cheat-level guide leading the way, before nightfall, the two had traversed the maze-like forest and arrived at the entrance to the female hunters' village.
Aaron and his sister entered the settlement with ease; it seemed completely unguarded. But when two strangers appeared at the tribe's entrance, a guard squad armed with bows materialized from nowhere. An arrow plunged into the ground ahead of them. Marion leapt back as another arrow severed her escape route.
"I mean no harm!" Marion raised her hands, standing her ground. "I'm an outcast from the Wanderers' Camp in the western wasteland. I have news for your leader!"
"Produce your credentials!" barked the female warrior in charge. "Prove you're not lying."
Marion pulled back her hood, revealing a pair of furry ears. Some young guards looked surprised. The red-nosed dwarf craftsman leapt down from behind Marion and waved his toolkit at the crowd.
"We met years ago! I recognize your bows—all use the same color ox horn for the bow face!" he declared. "I brought my number three pliers, oh, and this new file. Now I can work even better!"
He pulled out two handfuls of tools, his eyes darting from one bow to another. "It's you?" said a dark-haired female warrior among the guards. She whispered something in the leader's ear, softening his expression.
"Ah, it really is you!" Rednose exclaimed cheerfully. "You're still so tall! How's that bow holding up?"
"I haven't shrunk," the dark-haired warrior replied curtly, a flicker of amusement crossing her stern face. "Thanks. You've extended its life by a year."
"That's only because I didn't have the right tools," the red-nosed man said proudly, yet regretfully. "If I'd brought today's toolkit, I could've kept your bow serving another two or three years!"
The tense standoff eased considerably with this unexpected exchange. Soon the guards dispersed, and Marion and her companion were led into a small hut where they met an imposing woman in her thirties or forties. Her brown hair was cut short and neat, and her attire differed little from the warriors', save for a golden headband signifying her leadership. She asked, "Stranger, what brings you here?" "
"The Wanderers' camp was burned down about two weeks ago," Marion stated bluntly. "The human army is preparing for war, planning to march into the Angars Forest. I suspect you might be their new target."
Her expression grew even more serious. "If that's true, I wouldn't be surprised. They haven't liked us since day one." She shook her head. "Thank you. We'll verify this as soon as possible. If it's true, your kindness will be rewarded."
"I seek no reward," Marion replied. "Another sent me here upon discovering this matter. Half the Wanderers' Camp residents were rescued and now reside in safety. I've come to ask: would you be willing to relocate to the place I mentioned?"
"A benevolent noble?" the woman sneered.
"My master is not human," Marion replied. "She is the ruler of a dungeon severed from the Abyss. This is no trap. If you doubt me, send someone to see for themselves."
Tasha vanished and hovered beside Marion. The contract holder could hear her words and relay them to the village leader. The term "dungeon" elicited no strong reaction, rendering the follow-up persuasion tactic—verifying the absence of Abyss aura—unnecessary. The village leader pondered briefly before shaking her head.
"Thank you and your master," she declined politely. "But Amazons never flee without a fight."
"True Amazons," Victor muttered incredulously, recalling that men were never permitted to enter Amazon territory, let alone live there. Tasha relayed the question to Marion, and the werewolf girl voiced it aloud. To the query, "I heard only women live among the Amazons," the brown-haired Amazon queen merely offered a mocking smile.
"In the past, we discarded male infants. But now, we cannot afford such 'luxuries.'" she said. "Our numbers are less than a tenth of what they once were. Every member is precious. For that, certain traditions must change. Too many minorities have vanished into history. And if people think of the Amazons, what comes to mind first isn't our archery, not the glory and valor guided by the Huntress, not our ancient history and unique civilization—it's the abandonment of male infants... For the Amazons, there's nothing more ironic than that."
This matriarchal tribe had made compromises over time, enduring to this day though their glory had faded.
"I just don't get it," Victor said. "If tradition can yield to survival, why cling to 'Amazons never retreat without a fight'? They're human now, having abandoned their most reviled customs. If they simply lived in human cities, they wouldn't be targets anymore." "
"Then the 'Amazons' wouldn't exist anymore," Tasha said.
"Only the name 'Amazons' would cease to exist," Victor corrected her. "They'd live on, their descendants coexisting with ordinary humans, free from fear of extinction. I always thought joining the strong for a better life was a biological instinct—well, minus those brain-dead ascetics and fanatics."
"No," Tasha shook her head. "The Amazon civilization would be swallowed up, vanish, become legend—that's what they refused. But explaining it to you is pointless. You'd never grasp why those Abyss worshippers and witches opposed the Abyss back then, just like you'll never understand why I love Ah Huang."
"It's incomprehensible. Joining the Abyss offers immense benefits—endless life and power!" Victor rolled his eyes. "Why? Because creatures of the Material Plane enjoy making life hard for themselves? Because you think rats are cute?"
"There's only one reason," Tasha said. "Compared to well-treated puppets, we prefer free will."