Chapter 81: Bonus Chapter 9: No one Sent Me to Invade the All-Female Amazon Tribe—The Shadow Bancho Is Loved by Her Team

I raised one small hand in a casual wave. “Well… I’m off!”

And then I completely vanished.

To their eyes, at least.

In reality I was still standing exactly where I had been, only a few paces in front of them, watching their gloomy expressions.

My ability, [Dark Communion], was far more versatile than most people ever realized.

Among its many effects and features was the power to store objects, energy, even concepts inside a pocket of absolute darkness.

I could tuck away my aura, my magic power, my presence, my scent, even my shadow—my entire being, in the conceptual sense—into that dark dimension.

As long as I chose to hide there, I simply ceased to exist to the outside world.

It was utterly perfect for this kind of sensitivity espionage.

But then, one of the agents spoke up, their voice low as they kept frowning.

“I… I know what Silver-sama said is true… But I don’t want her to pass away. I think she should take care of herself more!”

Oya? They’re already gossiping about me the moment my back is turned?

Another soft, almost reverent voice joined in.

“Indeed. It was because of her eagerness… her duality… and, well… her cuteness… that made me even join the agency in the first place.”

Don’t go throwing your life away in a dangerous pseudo-cult just because of someone’s appearance, you absolute idiot!

Tensei slowly turned toward them, with his expression still shadowed with the sadness from earlier, but his voice had somewhat recovered its usual calm weight.

“This is inevitable.” he said evenly. “Our work demands resources. And if those resources happen to be ourselves—or even Silver-sama herself—then we shall utilize them thoroughly. Let us assist Silver… no, Usagi-sama… to the very best of our abilities.

“I have been in this agency for a very long time, longer than most of you have even been alive. So trust me when I say that not even one of the former leaders was greater than our Silver Shadow. Despite her seemingly depraved attitude… she is simply the best. One of a kind. But that does not mean she is invincible. Everyone! Let us follow in her footsteps, and give her our full assistance!”

“Hai, Tensei-sama!”

Those… complete fools.

I’m nothing so special, I keep telling you all.

I could sacrifice any one of you in a heartbeat if it served the kingdom. Without hesitation, and without remorse.

Still… it was oddly touching… Being rooted for like that.

I could feel heat crawling into my cheeks as my chest fluttered a little. Just a little, though!

Anyway, that’s enough sentimentality.

The dark fog rose around me again—unseen by the others, of course, since my entire existence was now conceptually tucked away inside that private dimension of darkness.

And when the blackness cleared, I was no longer standing in the open plain, I was inside… Verdant Spire.

The atmosphere filled my visage immediately; those thick, heavy, and oppressive trees.

But there was more: everything was gloomy over here.

Tense and all, like a funeral just occurred.

Every Amazon I could see moved with almost emotionless resolve.

There were no smiles and laughter, like I once remembered. Even the young ones weren’t running or playing around; they only sat quietly in small clusters, with their eyes downcast, and their hands folded in their laps.

The usual vibrant chaos of the Amazon settlement was gone; the shouting of commanders, the sparring noises, the clashing of metals and training cry…

I don’t think so… but is Benjamin Mark’s disappearance possibly the cause of this… great depression?

The birds sang faintly somewhere in the leave shades far above, their notes sounding strangely mournful in the depressive environment.

Here and there came the low rustle of tamed monsters moving restlessly in their pens or tethered to posts.

Otherwise, there was an eerie silence. A tense, perceptive silence that scraped at my nerves.

I had managed to pass through their outer barriers completely unnoticed. Because where there was darkness, I could be as well.

And there was darkness everywhere.

But I still understand that Lotus is an aberration, so I immediately threw all my darkness power into the dark dimensions. So one was more likely to see a ghost than see me, currently.

Even still; though darkness pooled generously in every corner of Verdant Spire—like beneath the overhanging canopies of trees and between the tightly packed wooden walkways—it was still difficult to pass through without feeling some pain.

When I say pain, I don’t mean the piercing, immediate sting of a blade, but a slow, gnawing pressure that pressed against my skin like invisible rocks.

The ambient barrier here was old but strong. And it seems like It didn’t like intruders very much, even ones who wore darkness like a cloak.

Nevertheless, none of the Amazons could see me. Being that I was technically “not there.”

My entire presence—sight, scent, sound, shadow, even the weak displacement of air when I moved—was swallowed into the dark dimension of [Dark Communion].

I had the liberty to drift through their settlement like a tourist wandering a foreign city.

I could brush past an Amazon’s arm as she carried a basket of fruit and she would never register the contact; even the very “idea” of being grazed was conceptually devoured before it could reach her mind.

My technique was absolute.

But, you see, absolute power always carried its own leash.

If I overdid it—I mean, if I lingered too long in one spot, if I pressed too hard against their personal space, or even if I allowed a whisper of my intent to leak—then the danger will erupt suddenly and mercilessly.

Pray for me, my fans!

Nothing is more unpredictable, and more vicious, than a cornered animal that cannot see what is attacking it.

Its Instinct will take over, and its rage will take over. And when that happens, you will find out that even a cub could bare its fangs.

I climbed their towering trees with careful, silent steps, scaling the thick vines and rough bark until I reached the suspended walkways and treehouses.

I slipped into wooden buildings raised on the ground, their walls carved with swirling Amazon runes.

I passed through the open-sided warehouse where weapons were being forged; their spears, curved blades, arrows and bows, and massive war-hammers. And all of them glowing faintly with fresh enchantments.

The smiths also worked in grim silence, with no banter and no laughter.

Eventually I reached a particular treehouse that carried the strongest, most unmistakable trace of Benjamin Mark’s scent.

It clung to the air here like incense that had soaked into every surface of the place.

I could only presume: this was where he used to live.

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