I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

Dreonah, Capital of Unadora

Inside the grand royal castle, within a chamber typically reserved for high-stakes political discussions, a large assembly of nobles sat around a rectangular table.

At the head of the table, occupying the most prestigious seat, sat a man in his mid-forties. He wore the regal attire of a monarch, his crown resting firmly atop his head. His sharp gaze swept over those gathered before him, his fist propped against his cheek in deep contemplation.

This was none other than King Harvin Dreonah, ruler of Unadora.

The room remained silent as the nobles waited for their king to speak. Yet, he remained silent, with a contemplative expression.

Finally, breaking the stillness, a green-haired man leaned forward. Duke Rosenwalt cleared his throat before addressing the room.

"Your Majesty, over the past few weeks, we have received thousands of weapons from Griffin Industries. Lord Brian Griffin has pledged his full support to our cause, and he's already preparing to send the next shipments of armor."

King Harvin gave a slight nod, acknowledging the statement, but before he could respond, a woman across the table spoke up.

"That's reassuring, Lord Rosenwalt, but can we truly trust him?" Countess Hoburn asked, narrowing her eyes.

Duke Rosenwalt met her gaze with an amused smile.

"Countess, as I've said, we've already secured over ten thousand weapons from Griffin. Distribution across the kingdom is well underway. There is no reason to doubt his intentions."

But the countess wasn't satisfied. She shook her head. "I'm not questioning what he's given us—I want to know if Lord Griffin's loyalty extends beyond convenience. Will he stand by us until the very end, no matter the outcome?"

A hushed murmur swept through the room. It was a valid concern. Many of them were well aware of the risks ahead. If their kingdom fell, would Brian Griffin still be on their side, or would he turn his back on them?

Duke Rosenwalt, however, didn't hesitate.

"He will." He let the words settle before adding, "Need I remind everyone that my eldest daughter is engaged to Brian Griffin's son? If he had any intention of abandoning us, why would he forge such a bond with my family?"

"That's a fair point, Duke Rosenwalt," a man chimed in, stroking his chin thoughtfully. It was Duke Alinton, the only other duke in the room. "But let's not forget—you promised him a reserve of White Amber. Just how much of that precious stash have you already handed over to him?"

White Amber was no ordinary ore. It was rare, highly sought after, and absolutely essential for crafting weapons capable of fighting Demonic Entities. Duke Rosenwalt's territory happened to sit on a mine brimming with White AMber, just waiting to be dug up. Along with offering his daughter's hand, the duke had thrown the mine into the deal with Brian Griffin.

"So much wealth," Duke Alinton mused, shaking his head, "and yet you're handing it over to a stranger."

Duke Rosenwalt simply smiled. "Wealth means nothing if you don't have a territory left to spend it in."

For him, it wasn't about getting richer. It was about securing enough weapons and manpower to protect his people, his land, and the entire kingdom. That was the real prize.

"Fair enough," Countess Hoburn said, raising an eyebrow. "But if the kingdom falls, Brian Griffin won't be able to exploit that mine of yours anymore. Does he even realize that?"

"I've already sent him enough ore to last five years," Duke Rosenwalt replied confidently. "He'll make a fortune from it. And honestly, Countess, why are you being so pessimistic? We've got top-quality weapons, and Griffin Industries has promised armor to match. I'd say our chances are looking good."

"You're the one being overly optimistic, Duke Rosenwalt" Duke Alinton shot back with a sigh. "Need I remind you what happened to Britannia? A massive empire, far stronger than us, with more manpower than we could ever dream of—and even they fell to Gevurah. And that was under the leadership of the legendary Arthur Pendragon, no less."

The room fell silent as the harsh but true reality. The Empire of Britannia wasn't just any Emoire—it was a land of legends. Once a collection of warring territories, it had been united by Arthur Pendragon and his Knights of the Round Table. And yet, even they hadn't been enough to stop Gevurah.

If Britannia couldn't stand against Gevurah, what hope did they have?

"Yes, Britannia has fallen, just as Arthur Pendragon himself once did. Our odds may seem bleak, but tell me—why are we all here?" Duke Rosenwalt'asked as he looked around at his fellow nobles. "Because we care. For our kingdom, our people, and our families. We have no intention of surrendering our home to these invaders without a fight. Isn't that right, Your Majesty?"

He turned to face King Harvin, who met the expectant gazes of his council before giving a firm nod.

"Indeed." He said before turning toward Duke Alinton. "Alinton, you were tasked with summoning Hunters from across the Holy Continent. What is their response?"

Duke Aliton, smiled confidently. "Yes, Your Majesty. So far, seven thousand Hunters have answered our call. With the rewards we've promised them, more will continue to arrive before Gevurah launches its attack. Among them, we even have S-Rank Hunters."

King Harvin took in the news with a slight nod before turning to Countess Hoburn, who had been waiting for her turn to speak.

"The treasury has also been put to good use, Your Majesty," she reported. "We've commissioned two hundred warships, and more than half have already arrived. Each is outfitted with cutting-edge weaponry—powerful enough to wound even high-ranking Exorcists and Hunters. If fired in coordinated salvos, these weapons can even bring down an S-Rank Hunter."

Duke Rosenwalt spoke uo next. "Additionally, we've received the support of [Horizon], who has helped construct a protective dome around the capital. Their Anti-Mana Barrier will shield the city from even the most devastating spells assaults. Should the enemy reach the capital, Your Majesty will be safe."

"They will reach the capital."

A voice suddenly cut through the discussion.

The doors swung open, revealing a striking young man in his early twenties. He was clad in pristine white armor, a golden cross emblem engraved on the chestplate. His chestnut-brown hair gleamed under the chamber's light, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to have a hue of gold. As he stepped forward, his golden cape billowed slightly behind him.

Beside him, a hooded figure in a white cloak followed silently, their face concealed beneath the fabric.

"Your Majesty," the man halted before the throne, meeting King Harvin's gaze. "The Holy Church has sent me to aid the Unadora Kingdom in its battle against the malevolent organization of Gevurah. I am Kenneth, a Paladin of the Holy Lumieras Army."

"A Paladin?!"

Gasps filled the hall as every noble in attendance rose to their feet.

The Holy Lumieras Empire boasted the strongest army on the entire Holy Continent. Its Holy Knights were said to be blessed by the Savior himself—but Paladins were in a league of their own. Born with unparalleled talent in strength, mana, and combat, they were often referred to as the very children of the Savior, rumored to carry his divine blood.

Paladins were rarely seen outside the Holy Empire, their presence alone a symbol of immense power. And yet, one had been sent to aid them.
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King Harvin's expression flickered between surprise and relief. "It seems His Holiness has answered my call."

Kenneth gave a solemn nod. "Indeed, Your Majesty. The fall of Britannia has dealt a heavy blow to the Holy Continent. The Holy Church refuses to let another kingdom devoted to the Savior fall into the hands of these..." His voice darkened, his expression twisting in disgust. "...despicable lower beings."

His unfiltered contempt was startling—even among nobles, few spoke so openly.

Duke Rosenwalt rose from his seat. "Milord, are you saying they will reach the capital?"

Before Kenneth could respond, another voice cut in.

"They will. And the capital may be their first target."

The speaker was the hooded figure. As she stepped forward, she reached for her hood and lowered it.

Gasps rippled through the hall.

She was breathtaking.

A young woman, seemingly in her early twenties, with an otherworldly beauty that left even the most seasoned nobles speechless. Her golden-blond hair, woven into a crown braid, cascaded down her back in elegant waves. But it was her eyes that truly captivated—brilliant scarlet irises tinged with hints of soft pink, glowing lightly.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Who was this woman?

That was what they all wondered until Kenneth answered.

"She is Merlin, the Greatest Mage of the Holy Continent," Kenneth said.

"Merlin?!"

Duke Rosenwalt's eyes widened, mirroring the shock on every noble's face.

There wasn't a single person in the room who hadn't heard of her.

Merlin had once stood beside Arthur Pendragon during his conquest of Britannia, her name whispered with awe across the continent. She was widely acknowledged as the most powerful mage alive.

King Harvin's gaze narrowed with suspicion. "We believed Lady Merlin had died in the war."

Merlin shook her head. "Arthur ordered me to leave before Gevurah struck. I set out to find a way to defeat them..." Her grip tightened around her staff.

"He sent you away? Even though you were Britannia's strongest weapon?" Countess Hoburn asked, clearly astonished.

Merlin gave a complicated nod. "Arthur must have foreseen Britannia's fall. And truthfully, so did I. Still, I chose to stay—but he wouldn't allow it. The reality is, my presence wouldn't have changed the outcome."

King Harvin raised a brow. "Even yourself?"

Merlin nodded again. "Gevurah's worshippers of Seraphiel are using something called Stigma—the equivalent of the Paladins' blessing marks but different in an inexplicable way. They serve as both their main offense and defense."

"We've heard of it," Duke Alinton said. "But knowing what it is doesn't change anything. Their leader is a monster."

Kenneth chuckled at his words. "I was sent by the Holy Church to face Ivan Zakharovich Kozlow. There is no need for concern."

Countess Hoburn scoffed. "If even Arthur Pendragon couldn't defeat him, what makes you think you can, Lord Paladin?"

Before Kenneth could reply, Merlin spoke. "I will accompany him."

Her words sent ripples of surprise through the hall, but she continued.

"For months, I've searched for a way to counter Gevurah, but I still don't fully understand Stigma. Even if we can't overpower him, there may be... other methods." Her voice trailed off as she fell in thought.

A heavy silence settled over the room.

After a moment, King Harvin finally spoke. "Have you seen him? What do you think?"

Merlin's expression darkened. "From a distance, yes. And he is..." She hesitated before continuing, "...without doubts the most dangerous man I have ever laid eyes on."

There was no lies in her words.

"If I'm being honest," she started, "I don't think there's anyone in the world who can defeat him."

Silence fell at her words.

The nobles exchanged uneasy glances, their anxiety only deepening.

If even Merlin believed Ivan was unbeatable, then what hope did they have?