The Villainess Is My Cute Daughter

Bile rose up from the back of his throat. He could feel the acidic sting burning his esophagus. But pure adrenaline and fear made him swallow it back down.

He slowly raised his head back up to look at the sky.

Once again, the massive black cloud of arrows was arcing over the walls for a third round.

This time, Brandon wasn’t frozen anymore. Pure survival instinct finally kicked in. He crouched down on the ground, ignoring the searing pain in his pierced legs, and desperately raised his wooden shield up over his head.

This time he actually felt the impacts.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

Five arrows slammed into his raised shield in rapid succession. The force pushed him down further and the arrows lodged inside his thigh and calf, shifted. It made him wince and he got a very strong urge to scream but he grit his teeth and held on.

But it was almost as if his luck had completely run out today.

The sixth arrow hit the shield incredibly hard. And it hit specifically at a spot where the wood was already damaged. Two previous arrows had already struck that exact same spot, splitting the hardened leather and cracking the wood underneath.

The last arrow just passed straight through the slight gap. The iron tip slid through the splintered wood and pierced straight into Brandon’s left shoulder.

"Gahh!"

Brandon screamed in agony and completely dropped his shield. He reached over with his right hand, grabbed the wooden shaft of the arrow, and panicked. He violently yanked it out.

But the only thing that did was make it worse.

Thick, dark blood immediately began to pour rapidly from the open wound. He desperately pressed his palm against his shoulder, trying to stem the bleeding, but the only thing it did was cause him even more pain.

His neighbor, who was crouching right beside him perfectly unharmed behind his brand new shield, watched the scene unfold and let out a soft sigh.

’Another one gone just like that,’ the older man thought to himself. ’I guess this family just doesn’t have the blood of a warrior.’

He had seen this exact scenario play out multiple times over the years. He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed in the kid. He shook his head and then chuckled quietly to himself.

’Well, that just means that I’ll have even more standing in our street back home. Being the only soldier who comes back alive again and again... my popularity with the women will obviously increase even more.’

He exhaled slowly and turned to look at Brandon, genuinely wondering if offering advice would even change anything at this point.

He watched as Brandon took his hand off the bleeding wound because he just couldn’t handle the intense pain of pressing on it.

The neighbor shook his head.

"Oi, Brandon," the neighbor grunted over the noise of the battlefield. "Push your hand against the damn wound. You cannot let the blood flow out like that or you’ll die in two minutes."

He paused and looked at the arrows sticking out of the kid’s legs.

"I mean, you’re probably going to die anyway," the neighbor added bluntly. "Your shield is gone, and you can’t block anything. You’re either going to die from blood loss right here, or you’re going to become a porcupine."

Brandon just looked at him. His face was completely red. Hot tears were streaming down his dirt-covered cheeks along with a thick line of snot.

He slowly looked back up at the sky.

Surprisingly, there were no arrows currently falling.

But just as he stupidly thought that he was safe for a second, thousands of bowstrings snapping at once a few hundred meters away. Another massive volley of arrows shot out from the top of the fortress wall.

Seeing the black cloud rise into the sky again, fear gripped Brandon’s heart.

He panicked. He broke the arrow shafts of the arrows lodged in his legs instead of pulling them out and immediately started trying to run away on his injured legs.

It was almost like a comical repeat of what the guy in front of him had done just a few minutes ago. He broke formation, limping and stumbling backward through the tight crowd of crouching soldiers.

He turned around as he desperately limped, hoping against hope that the arrows wouldn’t reach him in the backlines.

But he was completely wrong.

Just as he looked up and saw the cloud of arrows curving straight down toward his current position, he suddenly realized the pattern. He recalled exactly how the first three volleys had landed.

The first volley hit the heavy infantry in the very front. The second volley went a little bit further and the third one went even further and hit his original position.

And this fourth volley? It was heading even further away and that was exactly where he was currently standing.

Right now, he was standing in a completely exposed spot where no matter which direction he ran, forward or backward, he was going to get hit anyway. His injured legs just couldn’t carry him out of the kill zone in time.

He stopped limping.

He just stood there as the rain of arrows fell toward him. He thought back to his entire life in the span of a second. He thought about all the hard work he had done for his family, everything he had done to keep them fed after his dad and brothers died.

He had lived a hard life, and he had a lot of deep regrets.

’How are my sisters going to marry if I die here?’ he thought as tears began to blur his vision. ’And who is going to take care of mom?’

His injured legs completely gave out under the emotional and physical weight. He stopped moving entirely and just stared up blankly at the falling arrows that were coming straight towards him.

"Well, what’s the point of running anymore?" he muttered brokenly.

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