I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

King had arrived a bit after Minerva launched her attack.

From his vantage point atop a towering tree, his keen senses had already detected the traps laid throughout the area, including the barrier of miasma shrouding the camp below.

"A handmade barrier... interesting," he muttered, his azure eyes narrowing as he analyzed the swirling corruption.

Artificial barriers of miasma were rare—he hadn't realized such things could even be created. Worse still, this one was powered by a Demonic Beast. His gaze shifted toward the large tent in the center of the camp. Even from this distance, the foul energy radiating from it was visible in his eyes. The barrier's strength stemmed from that creature.

King's attention flicked to the prisoners. Lua, Mona, and Saya were huddled in a makeshift cage, their faces pale and frightened. Nearby, Reynold was bound to a tree, blood trailing down his temple.

"They ran straight into the traps," King muttered, shaking his head in exasperation. "Hopefully, this will teach them to exercise caution next time."

It was all too obvious: the miasma had been timed perfectly, and the ambush was meticulously planned. The entire area was a death trap, set for Reynold's group.

King had orchestrated part of this, though. He had sent Reynold and the others ahead deliberately, using them as bait. By forcing the enemy to show their hand, King could confirm their numbers and motivations without endangering himself. The captors wouldn't kill Reynold or the girls outright—they needed them alive as bait.

Which was exactly what King had sought for.

He knew Davon would be certain there would be more upon seeing how naive Reynold and his group was. Then his logical course of action as the bandit he was, was to keep them alive and in plain view as bait to bring out the others.

That was exactly what King wanted, he wanted Davon to underestimate them before taking them with an aerial attack with Minerva covering his rear and Diana and the three bodyguards follow him on the ground.

Unfortunately, Minerva—and Diana, much like her—had insisted on moving quickly to rescue Reynold and the others, fearing for their safety. Their concern had complicated his plan.

Speaking of Diana, King's eyes drifted to where she was engaged in combat with a man who could only be Davon Crook. The ferocity of their fight confirmed King's suspicions.

"Well, well... Patrick Cromwell," King squinted his eyes with a small, satisfied smile. "You've chosen an excellent vessel for little Gorn."

Davon's movements were sharp, body and mind trained. A perfect vessel indeed.

Yet Diana held her own against him.

"Not bad," King said, watching her closely. Seventeen, maybe eighteen years old, and yet her swordsmanship showed neither hesitation nor fear.

"As expected of a Duke's daughter," he chuckled. For all her youth, Diana possessed the discipline and grit that came from rigorous training—traits that reminded King of Cattleya.

In contrast, he doubted Ludivine or Theresa could have done much in this situation. Overwhelmed by the pressure and lacking experience, they would likely have faltered.

But Diana stood her ground well.

"Impressive," King said quietly.

But soon, the tide shifted. Davon Crook called forth his trump card: a Demonic Beast.

King's eyes widened as the creature emerged.

"Wow," he breathed, his astonishment quickly giving way to curiosity. He reached into the void, pulling out a small notebook. Adam's insatiable inquisitiveness stirred within him.

The beast was unlike any he had seen—a modified Demonic Beast, its grotesque form radiating corruption. Yet King couldn't confirm its nature without closer examination. Scribbling down its appearance and notable features, he kept his sharp gaze fixed on the battle.

The beast had turned its attention to Minerva.

"Minerva, Minerva..." King muttered, a grin spreading across his face as he rested his fist against his chin.

She was truly a class apart.

Nineteen years old and already a force to be reckoned with, Minerva fought with class. Her bow and arrows danced in perfect harmony, fending off both Davon Crook and the monstrous creature simultaneously. Every movement was well thought.

Even so, King couldn't help but compare her to Luna-Evelyn, another nineteen-year-old prodigy. Luna-Evelyn was an S-Rank Elite within the World Order and a phenomenon in her own right. Yet King considered her an anomaly, a separate entity entirely in this world

Minerva, however, was no less remarkable. A true genius, she deserved every accolade she had earned. Her skill, intelligence, and poise would undoubtedly make her a coveted prize among noble suitors.

Unfortunately, even a genius had limits. Minerva's quiver had ran out because of Davon Crook.

Meanwhile, the guards were faring no better. They were surrounded by nearly twenty bandits, all attacking with unnerving coordination. A cowardly tactic, but undeniably effective.

"This explains why so many hunters have fallen here," King muttered. "This shouldn't be a C-Rank quest after all. At the very least, it's a B-Rank... maybe even A-Rank, with Davon Crook and that Modified Beast leading the charge."

A wry smile crossed his face as King lowered the mask back to hide his face. "Well then, it seems I'll have to play the role of the protagonist for once."

Raising his arm, a chill swept through the air as ice particles coalesced around his hand. They twisted and shimmered, forming a magnificent spear of glimmering ice. Its carvings reflected the potency of King's mana, which radiated outward like a storm, reaching far beyond him and even penetrating the barrier.

With a kick on the branch he had been perched on,King launched himself high into the air. The spear spun gracefully in his grasp as he shifted mid-flight, adopting a thrusting stance.

-CRACK!

-BOOM!

The barrier didn't last a second. As the tip of the ice spear struck, the barrier fractured instantly. Ice particles spread like wildfire across its surface, enveloping it in a crystalline web before shattering it entirely.

The miasma recoiled, retreating as the freezing energy consumed it. The once-imposing barrier crumbled into harmless shards of ice, scattering like snowflakes in the wind.

King landed with precision, the air around him still shimmering with the remnants of his mana. He twirled the spear once before planting it firmly in the ground.

King glanced over his shoulder at Minerva, who stood behind him, her short sword raised in her grip.

"Nothing to fear now, Miss Minerva," King said with a calm smile, turning his attention back to the Demonic Beast charging toward him with terrifying speed.

"Watch out—!" Minerva cried, her warning coming just a fraction too late.

King, however, had already anticipated the attack. With a fluid motion, he leaned back, narrowly evading the beast's razor-sharp claws by mere inches.

"If only I could take you alive…" King muttered under his breath, a hint of regret in his words.

Capturing the beast would be quite arduous. The area would soon be overrun by hunters summoned by Minerva, as well as the inevitable media swarm eager to document the spectacle. The creature, with its overwhelming aura of corruption, would draw far too much attention.

Davon Crook's body, however, was another matter. If King could retrieve it before anyone noticed, he could present it as proof of completing the mission to the Mayor of Drales. But the beast? No, there was no way to keep it hidden.

The Demonic Beast let out a feral roar, its claws slicing through the air with increasing ferocity. Yet none of its attacks so much as grazed King, who dodged each one easily.

With a sigh, King shifted his gaze toward Reynold, who sat tied to a tree, staring blankly at the chaos unfolding around him.

"Come on," King muttered exasperated. "I'm betting high on you, Lightbringer."

King spun his ice spear with a flourish and struck, severing one of the beast's claws in a single, clean motion. Grasping the dismembered claw, he flicked it through the air with pinpoint accuracy. It landed mere inches from Reynold's bound hands, embedding itself in the ground.

"What are you dreaming about, Lightbringer?" King called out.

The words seemed to snap Reynold out of his stupor. He nodded and strained against his bindings, managing to grasp the claw. Using its sharp edge, he worked on cutting himself free.

Moments later, Reynold was on his feet. Retrieving his sword from one of the tents, he joined the fray.

As soon as Reynold entered the fight, the tide began to turn. He rallied the bodyguards, and together they began to push back the bandits. Victory seemed within reach on their side.

But Davon Crook was still in play.

Minerva was locked in battle with him, and though she held her ground, it was clear she was outmatched in close combat. Davon's experience and sheer physicality gave him a edge over her.

Nearby, Diana had managed to stand, despite her injuries. Her eyes turned toward her sister as she gripped her sword tightly. Drawing in a sharp breath, she pointed the blade toward Davon.

A sudden gust of wind burst forth from her sword, surging toward him with incredible force.

Davon, sensing the danger, leapt back just in time to evade the incoming attack.

But then with a sly smirk, Davon launched himself toward Diana.

"Diana!" Minerva cried out in panic as she rushed to intercept him. But Davon was faster.

Diana, still dazed from the earlier head-on attack by the Demonic Beast, didn't react in time. Her grip on her sword was weak, her movements sluggish. She barely managed to swing her blade in a feeble attempt to defend herself, but Davon deflected it, sending it spinning out of her grasp.

"What a shame," Davon snickered. "You've left me no choice but to kill you."

He raised his sword before bringing it down toward Diana's head.

Time seemed to slow. Diana saw death approaching and shut her eyes tightly, bracing for the inevitable.

-Spurt!

The wet and clear sound of blood spraying filled the air.

Yet... there was no pain, no injury.

Hesitantly, Diana opened her eyes.

She saw the back of a man and immediately recognized him thanks the silver unique shade of his hair. Stay connected with empire

King stood before her his hand gripping Davon's blade.

Barehanded.

Blood dripped from his palm where the sword's edge had cut into his skin, but King didn't flinch. He held the blade aloft, stopping it mere inches from Diana's head.