This Villainess Will Not Die!

Survival Instinct, or Something



My mouth stood paralyzed as the realization dawned on me.

"Not that I needed to know, for the coachman has already recounted your little misadventure to me. Trusting an old fool with a job to lose and a family to feed, all for a bit of coin you offered him. How fitting it is of your character." A wicked grin spread across his face. "Miss Ashdown."

My eyes widened at the sensation of a dagger’s sharp edge against my neck.

“I—I am a prisoner of the Empire,” I stated. I don't even know what that means. “You cannot kill me. You will hang... Please...”

The commander grinned.

“And who said I was going to kill you, wench?” He pressed the dagger against my skin.

He leaned in closer, whispering the words into my ear;

“I shall slit your throat just deep enough to ensure that you survive but can never again speak with that sweet voice of yours. I shall leave you in such peril that, conveniently, only with the aid of our two available medics could you even hope to survive... You know, you should not feel too badly about your little misadventure. If anything, it was an opportunity to see a bit of the world’s light, for today would have been the day you died either way."

The smugness in his voice made me grit my teeth.

Thinking about how I'm facing death again after so many promises to make it out alive this time, to create a new life for myself and ensure I survived fueled me with such hatred. Hatred I don't even know where to direct.

There must be some irony to how trivial my life is, no matter where or who I am, to how fucking incompetent and pathetic I am every time I need to save myself...

There was some bitterness to my knowing full well that no one would bat an eye once I passed, just like the last time.

"So you're killing me or not?" I couldn't help but mutter.

"Let us find out, shall we not?" An annoyed huff crashed against my neck before he jerked his head back and dug the dagger into my neck.

For a fleeting moment, it felt as if I were already dead; the air in my lungs ceased to exist, and all I could see was the pleasure in his widened eyes as he held my gaze.

In an ideal world, I would possess the reflexes to deflect his blow and attack him suddenly, then run and prevail heroically.

But I don't.

All I could do was watch this moment unfold, determined only by the thought that this man was despicable, unrecyclable waste and that perhaps there could be a way to survive a slash wound to the neck in this world. Magic exists here after all.

Maybe, just maybe, I could survive this, too.

Eyes wide, pupils locked with Blert's vicious browns, the blade's edge dug into the fleck of my neck, poised to carve a horizontal line across my throat.

I should have died then.

I shut my eyes, a part of me glad that I could finally rest.

... Perhaps death was the only possible happy ending I could get.

Even with the convenient knowledge of the book, my years of medical practice, and my modern-world experiences, I still managed to fail. Who's the idiot who entrusted me with a second life anyway?

With that thought, the corners of my lips lifted.

Whoever it is... I'd still like to thank them.

"I shall leave you in such peril that, conveniently, only with the aid of our two available medics could you even hope to survive..." He said.

How nostalgic...

"Drop it." My fingers clawed at the scalp of a girl whose name I barely knew, her soft hairs entangled in between my fingers. "Jess, was it? You better give me your loudest scream before you turn bald." I pulled her hair tighter, making her look up at me.

She was in our brown and white school uniform, and though the memory of her facial features had gone blank since, I could still recall the feeling I had gotten as she looked up at me, eyes filled to the brim with helpless, utter rage.

"You fucking psychopath." She gritted her teeth. "LET GO OF ME!" Her scream echoed through the corridors.

I looked up to see the concrete-covered yard outside through the empty classroom window. The principal was still heading there.

"Louder." I pulled at her head tighter, my heart beating faster as I watched the principal close in on the gym entrance.

The blonde girl let out such a screech that my ears began to ring. The moment following that, I looked over at the yard, and the principal's gaze was searching the building's window for the scream's source. His aide pointed at us with a fat frown, and after a quick exchange of words, the two middle-aged men began running towards the entrance of the school.

"-lope!" His voice echoed through the yard. "PENELOPE HORNE!!"

Once the two entered the building, I grabbed my phone and sent a quick message to my accomplices. And once that was over with, I threw a glance at Jess, who was fixing her hair and grunting from the injuries on her arms and knees.

"You think you're being a loyal friend." She stated, fixing the collar of her blazer, her gaze fixated on something in the window behind me. "But you're just a sad, evil little shit who lets losers use her like a guard dog." She stepped back, expecting me to retaliate physically.

"... Watch that pretty mouth," I said, expression blank. "Or else you'll get downstairs through this window." We were on the second floor, therefore, it technically wasn't a death threat.

I threw a look at the window and as expected, it was Harper and Benjamin, who cautiously walked out of the gym, clothes untidy.

I looked down at the bruises on my arms from this girl's retaliation. Through the corridor, I had heard the principal and his aide's running steps closing in on us, and at that moment, a smile drew itself on my face.

[You're a lifesaver.] Harper's message read. [Thank you]

A little shit who gets used by the people she cherishes the most.

As I watched Harley and her boyfriend wave me an excited goodbye through the window, feeling the principal's approaching, looming figure behind my back, I couldn't help but wonder: What's so bad about that?

As this memory flashed within my mind, my eyelids flew open and I took in a sharp breath.

"WAIT-!!" I exclaimed, feeling tingly, warm liquid leaking down my neck. I groaned against the edge of the dagger, eyes wide open as I grabbed the man's left and tightened my hold on it. "Sir, wait. There is something I must tell you! Wait, wait!"

The dagger's motion stopped, and the commander's eyes seemed slightly curious about my sudden flip.

"You don't need to kill me," I said, my conviction renewed as I finally understood what was going on. "I have a better idea for you."

"Hm?" He cocked a displeased eyebrow at me.

A commander who hosted a grand, illegal celebration while on duty to guard a prisoner of the empire; Commander Blert Blach.

He and his colleagues got too drunk for their own good, got their medic drunk beyond saving and even convinced their holy priestess to break her Oath of Mental Balance which is the source of her healing powers in the first place, making her lose her abilities.

For the totality of these gravities, this man would one hundred percent be hung at the stake.

Therefore he needs an excuse, a distraction, to turn the attention away from his ploys that're onthe verge of being undone.

Just like I used Jess to create enough noise and divert the principal's attention from the gym that day, the commander is taking things up a notch and decided that Penelope Ashdown's death is the only noise loud enough to cover up his nasty ass.

My death was to happen, not because I fucked up for trying to escape, but because this man was a fucking idiot.

"You are trying to kill me as way to hide the priestess's sin. Am I wrong?" I asked. "Doing that would be reckless at best, especially when you can fix this situation otherwise."

"Reckless, you say?" He muttered. "You must think highly of your worth. Do you perhaps believe anyone would give a shit if you died, Miss Ashdown? Because you would be mistaken."

"I know that much already. My family has given up on me, and I own no fortune that could make it a big deal if I were to die. However," I swallowed. "You cannot get out of killing me unscathed."

The commander's left eyebrow twitched.

"'A noble murdered at the hands of a commoner!' I trust you are aware of the reaction that headline would solicit. Even if you put your best efforts into concealing this fact, I promise you that you will not succeed at doing so. It will revealed, and once that happens, no noble of this empire would want short of your public execution. Albeit I am a worthless noble, I remain a Marquis's daughter. And if this Marquis's daughter was murdered for seemingly being disobedient, and that only, I am sure forgiveness would be something you beg for very dearly."

I am a reader of Wholeheartedly Yours. I know what kind of fucked up, classist, shit-world this is.

"However, I have a deal for you."

"Your audacity knows no bounds, wench." The commander's dagger pressed against my neck even further, making my breaths quicken.

"Just hear me out. You won't regret it." I basically pleaded.

"Speak a word that isn't to my liking and we shall both die."

"Alright."

Sick little shit.

"These rules may apply to you in the case in which you seemingly kill me for no reason. However, imagine this: Commander Blert's prisoner disguised herself as a healer, was mistakenly sent to the merchant's caravan to 'heal' the nobleman. If this fails, it will be completely my fault, and I will die for causing the death of a fellow nobleman. But if this succeeds, and I manage to do it, there will be no repercussions for either of us, and we can peacefully continue this journey as it was."

"You mean to tell me you intend to heal the merchant? Nonsense."

"If I don't, you would have both the motif to kill me and the excuse to cover for your lack of medical assistance, as I could easily take the fall for the drugging of the priestess and the state of the physician."

Thia was an unrefusable deal, unless he was an idiot. No, not even an idiot can't refuse such a good alternative for his pathetic little plan.

"... Miracle." He muttered, pushing me to the ground and standing up to dust his knees. "A noble woman with a decent amount of intellect. Must be because of her survical instinct." He muttered to himself.

As soon as he had let go of me, air filled my lungs again and I gasped for more. I held my neck, touching a warm liquid on the side of it. Thankfully, the pain was faint compared to everything else I've been through, so it should be fine if I bandaged it before I went to see the nobleman.

"I will go tell the merchants that we are sending someone after all. Figure out a way to pass for a revered miss. I will take you there myself, so don't entertain silly thoughts about another escape attempt, or else I may slit your throat right there."

The commander walked away, and reminding myself that I didn't know the way back, I similarly stood up and followed suit, despite the trembling in my hand and the ominous feeling I had about this plan.

I might get a heart attack from all of this stress, how annoying.

~

"But..." A maid trailed off, watching me with a suspicious gaze.

"Do you wish for your master to die? 'That it, miss?!" An agressive Blert spat at the maid standing between us two and the tent in which the merchant lay.

"Her holiness needs privacy in order to harness her powers. You must listen to her orders." Truman encouraged the maid to leave, clueless.

I analyzed the campsite through the two holes in the light blue cloth which covered my face; Everyone seemed in a frantic state, whether it was the maids, knights, and even the horses.

Well, I guess it's stressful if your boss publicly collapses on a work day, leaving you and your coworkers guessing about what's going to happen to you if he dies.

"Let us hurry inside." A firm Alice spoke by my side, taking a step forward and nudging the maid out of the way. She threw a glare my way, then opened the tent for me, Truman and Blert to enter.

Alice wasn't supposed to know. Like Truman, she should have been fooled by my immaculate disguise where no limb in my body could show and no word on my part has been spoken until now. I gave Blert all onstructions on the matter, too...

So how come she's been giving me a 'you sneaky little fuck' look since she volunteered to join me and Blert along with Truman on the way here??!

Speaking of the way here, it's a lucky thing that these people's caravan was set barely seven minutes away from Blert and his prison-guards'.

My hands were clammy as I stepped in, disregarding the 101 voices in my head telling me about how dead I am once I walk in and find that the man I'm about to take as a patient is beyond saving at all...

"You can do this." I muttered, clenching my fists at the sight of the tent's broad interior.


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