I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

"Leon, I think that fool completely misunderstood your intentions toward Cattleya," Aaron said, reflecting on their earlier exchange.

"Let him believe what he wants," Ivan replied with a shrug. "As long as he doesn't suspect my real motives."

Aaron nodded thoughtfully. "True, it might actually work to our advantage. But...what about Cattleya?"

He wondered whether Jaxon's misinterpretation would ultimately help or hinder Ivan's plans.

"I'll deal with her later," Ivan answered, dismissing the matter. "First, I need to register as a Hunter."

"A Hunter?" Aaron's expression shifted to surprise.

Hunters functioned as specialized mercenaries, licensed through guilds to undertake various requests—typically exorcisms or the subjugation of demonic beasts plaguing Aurion and neighboring lands. But he couldn't understand why Ivan, of all people, would choose such a path.

With his abilities, Ivan could ascend the ranks with startling speed, yet the reasons behind his decision remained unclear. Ivan had little interest in the usual Hunter pursuits: fighting demons for experience or chasing coin like most others. His ambitions lay elsewhere, far beyond the typical allure of a Hunter's life.

Independent Hunters were often viewed as little more than brutes compared to those tied to prestigious guilds like the Whiteford Guild or the Starlight Guild. However, some Hunters wielded enough influence to sway decisions within Aurion and even on the Holy Continent itself.

And that influence was exactly what Ivan sought.

Power capable of making nations bend to his will or heed his demands.

Naturally, he wouldn't register as a Hunter under the name Ivan Zakharovich Kozlow. He had no intention of revealing his identity. Becoming a Hunter—especially the highest-ranked one—would unlock opportunities and privileges otherwise out of reach. He'd have access to the most exclusive gatherings, the most restricted places, and, most importantly, the most guarded information. He would be among the sought guests of the Holy Continent.

It was another carefully laid step in his plan to reshape his fate from the novel's pages, bringing his ambitions for the Holy Continent closer to reality.

"I need a recommendation letter from your father, but not directly from him. Have him find a trustworthy, influential member of the Ocryphia Guild to write it," Ivan said.

Too many direct connections to Patrick Cromwell could raise unwanted suspicions, so he needed an intermediary from the Ocryphia Guild. The guild handled requests for Independent Hunters, making it the perfect choice for this task.

"Understood, sir. I'll arrange it right away," Aaron replied, nodding as he took out his phone and walked away.

With that settled, Ivan continued his stroll through the market.

Acquiring the renowned Griffin Weapons might draw unnecessary attention, so he opted instead to browse other stands. Though entitled to three free weapons, even from Karna, he was cautious; using Karna's gear so publicly would only expose its potential and invite prying eyes at the academy.

Still, he needed weapons to suit his role as an apprentice Exorcist. The dilemma was deciding which type to choose.

With memories and skills from seven antagonists at his disposal, Ivan was an expert in nearly every main weapon. However, this mastery left him sifting through conflicting emotions, each 'self' influencing his choice. Yet his true proficiency lay with the claymore—a massive sword that suited his strength and style. His main weapon, Lost Paradise, was a relic of Seraphiel, and it was a claymore as well.

Given his abilities, the ideal weapon would be something outside the scope of his former selves' expertise. It would need to be one he could wield with finesse without drawing attention to his strength.

As he considered this, a particular stall caught his eye.

It specialized in bows.

[Artemis & Co.]

He had never wielded a bow before. The only long-range weapons he was familiar with were revolvers, skills inherited from James Arnold Grayling and, more intensely, Isaac Crawford—both experts in their own right, especially the latter, who was a beast with a gun.

But bows? He had no experience with them.

Not that Ivan cared. The challenge of mastering an unfamiliar weapon brought a flicker of interest to his otherwise boring academy life.

As he approached the stand, Ivan noticed a woman slumped in her chair, apparently asleep. Her legs were propped up on the table, her head tilted back, and an open book rested across her face.

[How to Find a Boyfriend in Your Late 20s: 100% Results Guaranteed!]

"..." Ivan's gaze lingered on the book, the title raising an eyebrow, before drifting down to the displayed bows.

Each own their own goals and anxiousness.

The array of bows was impressive, but Ivan had no idea how to pick the right one. Among them, a particularly large bow caught his attention. He reached for it, noting its substantial height as he took it in hand.

'Quite tall,' he thought, testing the string's tension.

The vendor remained oblivious, snoring lightly as she lounged, perhaps dissuading potential customers with her indifference—or her choice of reading material.

"I wouldn't take that one if I were you."

A calm, melodic voice broke his concentration. Ivan turned to see an elegantly beautiful young woman standing just a meter away, her striking bluish-hazel eyes trained on the bows.

It was Ludivine Richmont.

Now he recalled—Ludivine was a talented archer.

"Why?" Ivan asked. She seemed to know what she was talking about.

She glanced from the bow to him, assessing. "Longbows are difficult to handle for beginners."

"And how do you know I'm a beginner?"

"The way you picked it up and tested it," she replied simply. "Longbows demand considerable strength, steadiness, and experience with bows to use them effectively." 

It seemed Ludivine wasn't entirely convinced that Ivan's ordinary appearance could belong to an elite of Ocryphia, nor that he possessed any remarkable skill.

"Which one would you suggest, then?" Ivan asked, setting the longbow back down.

"Well, that depends on your needs, but for a beginner, I'd recommend a recurve bow," she replied, gesturing to a smaller, uniquely crafted bow. "It's lighter, doesn't require excessive stamina, and has a good balance between strength and control. It's also versatile."

Her explanation was precise and practical, which Ivan appreciated. Despite her likely status as one of the academy's noble elites, there was no arrogance in her tone—just a sincere enthusiasm, as if her passion for archery made discussing it natural.

Ivan listened carefully, recognizing that she spoke with clarity and knowledge. He reached for a simple yet refined wooden recurve bow, noting the balance Ludivine had described. It fit easily in his hand, far more comfortable than the longbow.

Nearby, Ludivine was inspecting a different type of bow, one that caught Ivan's eye. It was sleek and black, fitted with multiple strings, pulleys, and adjustment mechanisms. Though unfamiliar with its design, Ivan could tell by her intense focus on each part that Ludivine knew her way around archery equipment.

With his choice made, Ivan prepared to leave when Ludivine spoke up again.

"You should consider a dagger or a short sword as a secondary weapon," she suggested.

He glanced back at her.

"Since you're new to archery, it's wise to carry a backup weapon," she continued. "Just in case."

"What do you want?" Ivan asked at last, neglecting to thank her.

His distrust mirrored Adam's, making him wary of Ludivine's intentions.

Ludivine felt the weight of his suspicion, his gaze filled with clear mistrust.

"Archery requires serious dedication, yet you've jumped in without knowing a thing about it. I'm only trying to offer some guidance," she replied in a sincere tone.

Ivan studied her face, searching for any hint of deceit. For a moment, Ludivine felt a pang of discomfort as his intense stare seemed to pierce right through her.

Their silence was suddenly broken by a loud yawn. "So noisy out here…"

The woman tending the booth had woken up, stretching her arms as she yawned. She lifted a book off her face and glanced at the two students. Her features were striking, especially for someone in her late twenties, and one might wonder why someone like her hadn't yet found a boyfriend and was miserably looking for help inside a book.

"Can't believe anyone actually showed up," she grumbled. "Guess I should be grateful, though—no one seems to take archery seriously these days."

A name tag pinned to her chest read [Daphne Green]. Something about the name nagged at Ivan, but he couldn't quite place it.

"So," Daphne drawled, glancing between the two of them, "you both grabbed bows and immediately started a lover's spat? Teenagers in love these days…" She rolled her eyes, but there was a faint glint of envy in her gaze.

Ludivine offered a polite smile. "I'm Ludivine Richmont. Pleased to meet you."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Richmont, huh?" Clearly, the name was familiar to her. She turned her gaze toward Ivan, who stood aloof beside Ludivine.

"Leon," he replied curtly.

He was eager to get away from this place and find a dagger or short sword to finish up this exhibition quickly.

Daphne shot Ludivine a pitying look. "How did you end up with this guy? I mean, what's it like to fall for someone like him? Can you give me some advic–huh your stories about it?"

Realizing she might have dug her own grave, Daphne tried to recover, eager to seek romantic wisdom from a younger girl who, she assumed, was rich in dating experience.

"Unfortunately, I can't help you," Ludivine said coolly. "Since he isn't my boyfriend." Her voice held a slight edge, likely due to Ivan's earlier indifference; she'd only been trying to help a fellow archer, after all.

But Daphne interpreted the tone differently. "Ah, so you're still in the middle of a lovers' quarrel."

Ludivine's brows twitched slightly at Daphne's conclusion.

Ivan, having heard enough, left without another word, leaving Ludivine to manage the rest of the mess alone.

But he would latter regret deeply not having resolved it in his own strongly…