The Villainess Is My Cute Daughter

”What do you mean maiden?” he asked flatly. ”You are my general, and it’s not fair if you humiliate me like this in front of my own soldiers.”

Claire just looked at him. She pouted her lips slightly.

”Well, I wish I was something more than your general then,” she mumbled.

Before he could even process what she just said, she spun around and practically ran out of the tent.

The moment her boots hit the dirt outside, she instantly regretted opening her mouth. She let out a loud, pathetic groan of embarrassment. She squatted down right next to the tent flap and smacked her hand hard against her own forehead.

”Oh God, I messed up really bad... why did I even say that...” she whimpered to herself.

A few seconds later, the tent flap opened.

Aria casually walked towards her.

She looked down at Claire squatting in the dirt and casually patted her on the back.

”You better just confess.” she said simply. ”If not, there’s no one who can help you.”

Claire’s face went from a slght shade of pink to a bright tomato red.

Then Aria just walked away, strolling through the camp like she was just taking a casual afternoon walk.

Claire let out another soft sigh. She groaned into her hands and just sat down in the dirt right beside his tent, looking incredibly pouty.

Miles away from the chaotic war camp, Roderick sat in silence.

He was deep inside a damp, cave-like room. He let out a soft sigh as he sat on the cold stone floor and stared at the scene he had constructed in front of him.

A massive Naga statue stood at the back of the cave. It had the body of a woman but the head of a snake. In fact, multiple snake heads merging into one neck but the entire statue was currently covered in gore.

There were multiple human bodies piled up on the floor. They were just tossed haphazardly into a huge pile.

Massive clumps of hair, both long and short, were scattered at the feet of the statue like a carpet.

But the worst part was the skin. There were dozens of pieces of human skin that looked like they had been meticulously peeled right off the faces of the villagers and slaves his men had kidnapped.

These face masks were slapped directly onto the statue. They were stuck to the top of its hood, the front of its face, and all across its body.

And then there were the skulls. Bare human skulls had been strung together with thick rope to form a necklace. But instead of hanging it around the statue’s neck, Roderick had wrapped it around the Naga’s waist like a belt.

Roderick slowly dragged his eyes away from the gruesome display and looked down at the two massive clay pots sitting next to him on the floor.

Both of them were filled to the brim with fresh human blood.

He grabbed the rim of the first pot and grunted as he lifted it. He struggled under the heavy weight as he hobbled over toward the statue. He had set up a few wooden stools of varying heights to act as a makeshift staircase.

He carefully climbed up the stools until he was level with the Naga’s head.

He raised the heavy pot over the statue and slowly began to pour the blood over the stone.

As the red liquid cascaded down, Roderick began to chant.

He spoke in a guttural, mystical language that his attendant waiting out in the tunnel couldn’t possibly understand. But he could see weird looking words floating up in the air around the staute in a tint of red.

ఓహ్ వావ్, నువ్వు నిజంగానే దాన్ని వెతికావా! బాగా చేశావు!

The blood didn’t wash the peeled skin masks away. It didn’t even flow over them normally. It did something entirely unexplainable by science or standard magic.

The blood was actively being absorbed into the dead skin.

The face masks slurped up the red liquid like dry sponges. They rapidly shifted from their pale, lifeless skin tones into a dark, bruised, almost blackish-red color. The excess blood that wasn’t absorbed simply pooled at the base of the statue around the clumps of hair.

Once the first pot was completely empty, Roderick carelessly tossed it aside, and it shattered against the floor.

He climbed back down, grabbed the second pot of blood, and repeated the exact same process.

When the second pot was empty, he climbed down for good and kicked the wooden stools away. He stood back and admired his handiwork.

All of the skin masks stuck to the statue were now a sickening dark red.

He looked down at the skull belt wrapped around the Naga Statue’s waist. The bone had shifted from a dull, dirty ivory to a brilliant pearly white. The skeletal heads were actually glowing slightly, shimmering with a faint light in the dim cave.

He looked down at the feet of the statue.

The piles of discarded hair, which had been mostly black and brown just a few minutes ago, had completely transformed into a bright, vibrant shade of crimson. Unlike the skin masks that turned dark, the hair was glowing with a bright red light.

Roderick nodded to himself in satisfaction.

He dropped to his knees on the hard stone floor and pressed his forehead flat against the floor in submission.

”O great demon of all beings,” Roderick chanted aloud. ”O great demon of all demons. O great god of demons, the ancient god who took over the race of this world. O great god of demons who cursed the race that once ruled over this planet.”

He took a deep breath, letting the metallic scent of blood fill his lungs.

”I pray to you to give me a being who is not from this world. I pray to you to give me a being who can be called a hero. I pray to you to use the resources that I just gave you. I pray to you to use these sacrifices to give me what I need.”

The statue’s stone eyes suddenly flared to life with a blinding light.