Transmigrated Into an OnlyWomenRealm: the Amazons

Byron's breath hitched as the wind whipped through his short black hair, the world below a sprawling tapestry of emerald hills and winding rivers.

They had left Themiscyra over an hour ago now, all the girls waving goodbye to them, one of them even crying.

Strawberry.

She was probably crying because of what she had seen in the visions. Byron had assumed.

Although, after Keza reckoned they had covered enough distance and that it was safe to tell him about the visions, nothing explained to him why exactly Strawberry had been crying. He still relied on speculation.

The visions weren't even as dangerous as they had made them to be... Or so he thought.

If Keza flew him all the way to New Themiscyra without landing anywhere, he would be safe. If she attempted landing anywhere, there would be trouble. It was that simple.

Byron supposed it would be an attack from one of those abominations roaming that realm, namely tusked-wolves among several others. Or something else. Keza had told Byron that Strawberry's visions had been vague.

When he asked why they didn't want to tell him about it back in the city, the answer he got was kind of stupid, too, though a bit reasonable to some degree.

Goddess Calliope was angry with Byron, Keza had told him. So angry.

Byron could think of a few reasons why the goddess could have been angry with him, but he had to ask just to be sure.

"The Silver Priestess didn't tell us why," Keza had answered. " She just told us to take you as far from Themiscyra as possible. Sooner the better. I could tell she was hiding something though."

Byron had a feeling it had something to do with his affair with Strawberry. If goddess Calliope had found out, then that's why the goddess was angry with him.

That might also explain why Strawberry had been crying. Perhaps the goddess had given her some kind of punishment. Perhaps that's why she wanted Byron away. That would also explain why she did not tell Hippolyta and Keza the contents of her visions regarding the matter because she didn't want them to find out.

After all, only Hippolyta's city worshipped goddess Calliope. Other cities, New Themiscyra and Harmonia, didn't worship any god anymore. They were suffering because of the gods, so why worship them?

Taking Byron far from Themiscyra, a city where goddess Calliope had the authority to do as she pleased, was a strong precaution.

But then again, if the goddess wanted to hurt him, she could have done it already without warning them with visions.

It was confusing... As anything involving gods should be.

Now, as Keza's crimson wings beat rhythmically against the sky, her arms tightened around Byron's body, he said, "What if you get tired? I mean, your arms."

Byron was afraid that she might get tired and lose her grip on him.

"You think your weight means anything to me?" she asked with a chuckle. "When I'm airborne, everything I carry becomes lighter. It's like swimming while pulling a person. I just hold and it's instinctive. I don't even notice."

This was assurance enough, even though Byron thought carrying something in water was different from carrying another in the air. That was, of course, if he thought about gravity and all.

Even though he had never excelled in physics and the little he knew about it had been muddled during the three years he spent lying on the bed after he got paralyzed, he was certain that swimming and flying were too different.

However, since he himself couldn't fly, he had no choice but to agree with Keza.

No longer afraid of falling, he allowed his mind to focus on other issues. Or more accurately, the other challenges he was facing.

"I feel nauseous!" he said, a choking feeling in his throat.

"I told you not to eat," said Keza before she burst into laughter. Her laughter—a low, melodic sound—vibrated against Byron's back.

"Should I have starved then?"

"Of course not! But you're not used to this. You should have just bathed and waited for me. New Themiscyra isn't so far. You could have had your meal there."

"But I was hungry."

"I know. I know. But it's because you decided to fuck all the Harmonians at once. Am I right, daddy?"

Queen Otrera's city was called Harmonia, but it was the first time Byron had had anyone refer to her girls as Harmonians.

This wasn't what caught him off-guard though. It was the 'am I right, daddy?'

Byron chuckled. Keza was obviously teasing him albeit with a hint of jealousy within her voice.

"You're asking for a spanking!" He found himself matching her banter.

"Haven't you spanked me enough already? Both yesterday and today... And the day before yesterday? My butt, both human and succubus form, is literally burning from the soreness right now."

"Didn't you say your body is able to regenerate?" he asked.

"Yeah! If you stabbed me with a knife, I can instantly heal. You, however, spanked me out of love. I want to feel it. Why would I erase it?"

"Then that's..."

Byron was about to respond, but something caught his attention.

His eyes were fixed north-west where sunlight glinted off a distant lake nestled like a sapphire within a ring forest-cloaked tall hills with ice-covered mountains on the northern side.

"Keza—look! Those hills… the lake between them. Can we get closer?"

Byron didn't know enough world geography, but he could swear nothing like that was on Earth.

This made him confused.

This realm was supposed to be the ancient version of modern earth, right?

But then again, Alcippe had taken him to see the Gateway. He had seen the tusked-wolves. He had seen that strange river that rose up into the sky. It certainly had something to do with goddess Hera.

This explanation didn't suppress his curiosity though. Those hills were the first unnatural thing he had seen ever since he and Keza flew out of Themiscyra.

Well, hills and lakes were a natural thing, but not the ones in front of his eyes. It was as if someone had deliberately put them there to trap something.

He was happy when Keza's reply finally came, adding a layer of info to the strange topographical feature.

"Oh! The Wolves Den? It looks beautiful, doesn't it?"

"Yeah! It's breathtaking. Why do you call it the Wolves Den?"

A chuckle escaped from Keza's lips. "Because it's a den of wolves just like the name says. Those woods covering those mountains are full of strange wolves. One of Hera's horrific creations."

The mention of strange wolves reminded Byron of those tusked-wolves which Alcippe had taken him to see the day before yesterday.

If that forest was where they came from, then the name of that place was fitting.

Keza was now drifting towards it.

Her wings had tilted and the sudden shift in direction had made Byron's stomach churn.

The air grew colder as they soared higher, the lake expanding below as they got closer. The island at its center was a meadow on one side, thick bushes on the other, then large colorful trees here and there, surrounded by water so clear Byron could almost see large shadows moving beneath its surface. A tiny river ran through the center of the island but Byron couldn't see where it ended.

"It's like something out of a movie," he murmured, expecting Keza to ask him what a movie was, but her grip tightened abruptly.

"Byron!" Her voice sharpened. "Hold on—"

A whistling crack split the air. Keza jerked violently, her right wing flapping awkwardly as an arrow lodged deep into its membrane.

She hissed, her body lurching sideways.

She turned Byron so he could face her, her hands clasping behind his back as the ground spun below.

"Pull it out!" she snarled, her voice strained. "Now!"

Byron fumbled for the arrow's shaft, fingers slipping against something slick and unnatural—the arrowhead wasn't wood or iron, but a black gemstone, its surface etched with red runes which pulsed faintly.

Keza's wing shuddered, her flight now a desperate, erratic glide. "It's not… it won't budge!" he shouted.

"Damn it—" Her curse dissolved into a gasp as her other wing spasmed. The forest rushed up to meet them, branches clawing at their limbs.

Keza twisted midair, shielding Byron with her body as they crashed through the canopy.

The impact knocked the breath from his lungs.