I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

"I will," Gwenyra nodded without hesitation.

She had made her decision the moment the news had reached her. There was no room for doubt anymore.

Ludmila suddenly stepped forward.

"Even though you'll merely be Ivan's partner for show, you will still have to stand by his side as his equal—something you will never truly be," she said coldly, eyes narrowing as they looked down on Gwenyra. "The people will believe whatever we tell them, but appearances must be flawless. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes," Gwenyra replied.

"Everything—your appearance, speech, voice, the very words you choose—must be perfect when you're with Ivan. Not a single thought or emotion should slip through that could betray you," Ludmila continued, her voice dripping with menace. "If you fail, your family will pay the price."

"I... I will play my role. Please, just don't harm them," Gwenyra said, her voice faltering for a moment.

"As long as you don't try to be the heroine, Princess," Mikhail spoke up with a smirk. "And, by the way, I don't like the look of that idiot brother of yours. Keep him in line." 

"I will," Gwenyra whispered, biting her lip as she nodded, mentally noting to warn Uther.

"He should learn from your father. See how obedient he is?" Mikhail laughed, mockingly.

Arthur kneeling beside her, remained silent despite the insult, his eyes cast downward.

Gwenyra could only endure in silence, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Leave," Ivan finally said, signaling that the discussion was over.

Gwenyra rose and began to leave, but her father remained on his knees, his head still bowed before Ivan. 

"What are you still doing here, former King?" Kamila asked with a scoff.

"I have one request," Arthur said quietly. 

Kamila looked ready to kick him out herself, but Ivan held up a hand, stopping her. 

"Wait, Kamila," Ivan said, turning his cold gaze toward Arthur. There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again. "What is it you want?"

"Father?" Gwenyra's voice wavered in confusion. She feared her father might say something that would provoke Ivan or the others.

Arthur's eyes flickered toward Gwenyra, then back to Ivan. "My daughter," he began, his voice soft. "I raised her to be strong, loyal, kind—and full of love. She is intelligent in her own way and will be of great use to the Empire you're building."

Arthur spoke without any of the formal deference the situation demanded, a fact that visibly irritated Kamila and Dimitri. Both of their expressions twitched, clearly angered by his lack of submission. Yet they held their tongues, as Ivan remained attentive, listening in silence.

"I am asking humbly… please," Arthur said, lowering his head even further in submission. "Please, don't harm her. Treat her kindly. I will do anything you ask." 

Tears welled in Gwenyra's eyes as she listened to her father. He who had always been a proud and noble king, cast aside his dignity for her sake. Gwenyra choked on her sobs, unable to find the words to say.

"..." Ivan's eyes remained fixed on Arthur.

If it were only Ivan Zakharovic Kozlow he wouldn't have spared a thought for Arthur's begging. His heart would've been untouched by the sight of a fallen king's pleading, and he would have easily dismissed it all without hesitation.

How many people had begged him to spare their towns, their village, their family to him but he executed them without hesitation. It was the same for anyone who had confronted him or his Faith.

For a mere former defeated King whom Ivan didn't spare a single glance anymore after he took the throne from, he should have given the same cold answer yet…

…something within him stirred. 

Watching Arthur—once a great warrior, now reduced to pleading with the man who had dethroned him for the sake of his daughter—awakened a sense of respect in Ivan. It wasn't his own sentiment, but that of Rufus Quintus Flamma, one of the Antagonists within him. Rufus, being a proud warrior himself, understood the weight of such a request. It was a language of honor and sacrifice that only soldiers knew.

Ivan's demeanor shifted subtly. Resting his fist against his cheek, he leaned forward slightly, observing Arthur with more than just indifference.

"No harm will come to your daughter," Ivan said, his voice deeper now, more solemn. Even his manner of speech had changed, drawing curious glances from the four who stood beside him.

But Ivan ignored their stares. "As long as she fulfills her duties and refrains from any treachery, you have my word."

Both Gwenyra and Arthur looked at Ivan in disbelief. His words felt entirely out of character for the man who had almost executed Gwenyra without a second thought, and who had shown little regard for warriors like Arthur or Bedivere.

Ivan's companions exchanged surprised glances as well, though none of them spoke out. The shift in his tone was puzzling, but it still felt like Ivan's decision—at least partially. In truth, it was Rufus' influence surfacing in that moment of warrior's honor.

Arthur, visibly relieved, nodded gratefully. He slowly stood up and they both left the hall in silence.

"I didn't know you had this side to you, Ivan," Mikhail chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Likewise," Ludmila added, a small smile touching her lips.

"Kamila's not happy, though," Dimitri muttered under his breath.

"Why would I be angry?!" Kamila snapped at her brother's remark digging her own grave.

Though she denied it, Kamila's frustration was obvious. The idea of Ivan 'protecting' Gwenyra—who was to become his wife that very night—annoyed her to no end.

"Are you angry, Kamila? Has she done something to warrant your anger?" Ivan asked calmly but his stare said a lot.

The implication was clear: if Kamila had any reason to harm Gwenyra, his promise to Arthur would be swiftly forgotten. Even though Rufus' persona would likely resist, the merge had made them one. Ivan cared for Kamila as much as Rufus did—her desires were their desires.

Kamila cleared her throat, her pale cheeks flushing slightly under his gaze. "Well, there's no need to worry. As long as she does her job, no harm will come to her. I promise."

"Are you happy, sister?" Dimitri asked with his lethargic expression.

"Are you blind, Dimitri? She's blushing this hard, of course she is," Mikhail confirmed with a laugh much to Kamila's embarrassment.

Her face reddened further, and she quickly averted her gaze, toying with a strand of her blonde hair in an attempt to compose herself.

Ivan smiled a little. "Thanks."

With the room now empty and the heavy doors shut behind them, Mikhail stepped closer, scrutinizing Ivan's face with a curious glint in his eyes. "By the way, what's up with this appearance? Is this the one you're using in Ocryphia?"

"Yes," Ivan replied, easing his posture. "I go by the name Leon Cromwell there."

Only the four people in the room knew about Ivan's secret involvement with Ocryphia—an academy far removed from the political heart of Britannia. It was a decision he had made with careful consideration.

"You're still keeping it hidden from the Cathedral?" Dimitri asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Still," Ivan confirmed with a nod.

Letting the Cathedral in on his seemingly nonsensical decision to attend an academy for exorcists—of all things—would mean alerting his father, the highest authority in the Gevurah hierarchy. Ivan knew with absolute certainty that if his father found out, there would be no chance he'd be allowed to stray far from Britannia, much less the Cathedral. It wasn't out of parental concern, but because Ivan was Gevurah's most valuable asset.

And there was still work to be done. Britannia hadn't fully fallen under their control yet. 

But Ivan cared a little about Britannia.

According to Zenon's novel, he and the six people he cared about the most in the world were destined to die. There was nothing more important than destroying this Fate. Of course, even if he told his Father, he would probably not understand, and there was a good possibility he wouldn't care.

Ivan respected his Father and shared his ideas of reforming the world and he will take part in it, without doubts, if it wasn't for his Father, it would be for his deceased mother. But the safety of his remaining family was above everything else.

"That bastard Ludomir keeps popping up out of nowhere, asking where you are, Ivan," Mikhail grumbled. "I've been managing to hold him off, telling him you're playing 'family' with Ludmila and Kamila in the royal bedroom. But it won't work for much longer."

-BAM!

Mikhail barely raised his hand in time to block Kamila's punch, though the force of it sent him sliding back across the floor. "Ouch! That hurts, Kami!"

"You absolute idiot! What have you been saying to that gossip-monger Ludomir?!" Kamila's face was practically glowing red with embarrassment.

Ludmila, cheeks flushed and arms crossed, looked equally disgruntled. "Really, Mikhail? Couldn't you come up with anything better?"

Mikhail rubbed his arm, still smarting from Kamila's blow. "Like what?! That guy's a snake! I picked the best solution I could think of. Even Ludomir wouldn't dare interrupt Ivan's supposed 'joyful times'! You want a different excuse, you handle him from now on!" 

Mikhail and Ludmila were responsible for managing Britannia and the Legion in Ivan's absence, and up until now, Ludmila had let Mikhail handle Ludomir, thinking his sharp wit would be enough to handle a shrewd man like Ludomir. But she was starting to regret it.

Meanwhile, Kamila wasn't done. She continued to chase Mikhail around the room, throwing punches powerful enough to shatter bones. Even veteran warriors would have struggled to survive her blows.

"Don't tell me you've been using that shameful excuse for a whole month?!" Kamila yelled, her voice strained with indignation. "What do you think he's going to think of us now?!"

Mikhail, still dodging her attacks, flashed a devilish grin. "Well, he might just think you and Ludmila are a couple of wild nymphos!" 

"...!"

Kamila's face was now as red as a tomato, her embarrassment reaching a boiling point. She raised her leg, and a dark, ominous aura began to swirl around it.

"Oi! That's dangerous!" Mikhail's grin vanished as he saw the black energy crackling around her.

But Kamila, blinded by her humiliation, was past reason.

"D–Die!" 

-BOOM

The newly repaired walls exploded in an instant, sending Mikhail flying out of the palace in a cloud of debris.

"This idiot…" Ludmila muttered, shaking her head. She was embarrassed too, but unlike Kamila, she was much better at controlling her emotions, even as she watched Kamila panting heavily, face flushed from both rage and shame.

Dimitri let out a long sigh, his already tired eyes growing wearier as he surveyed the damage.

"Great. who's going to repair that now…"