I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist - Chapter 82

Chapter 82: Cattleya Starlight Taken Hostage [3]

“Are you deaf my friend? Or do I need to spell it out?” James asked. “I want the priest’s head. Bring it here, or I swear your daughter will be feeding the sharks.”

“Hmngh!” Cattleya squirmed in James’ grasp but ultimately failed against his strength.

She couldn’t understand where on earth James was going like this or what exactly he was scheming. This was not the plan they had discussed!

The demands he’d made for her release already felt like a cruel joke. Ten Holy Coins. A Relic of Seraphiel. And the last condition—undeniably the most humiliating—was more than enough to fray her nerves. Now, to her disbelief, he’d added yet another condition to his ever-growing list.

“Stay calm and just remember what I told you to do, Starlight,” James muttered as he pinched her arm.

“Hmmn!” Cattleya groaned through gritted teeth, her muffled sound of pain accompanied by teary eyes. It was hard to say whether it was from genuine pain or the embarrassment she was going through in front of her parents.

It was just like James to manage her like this—no, tame her. He knew exactly how sensitive she was, and he wielded that knowledge like a weapon.

“What the hell are you doing to her?!” Sina glared daggers at James.

“I told you, woman—I want the priest’s head! Are you lot deaf, or just pretending not to hear?” James shot back impatiently.

“You aren’t keeping your word,” Isabel said coldly.

“No, I’m not,” James admitted without hesitation, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “But you lot started this mess by bringing that old fool along with you. Now, fetch me his head. I’ll be here, enjoying the show.”

Willias, standing slightly apart, observed the scene with a chuckle rumbling in his chest. James’ disdain for the Holy Church wasn’t surprising to him in the slightest. After all, facing a Demon, one could expect a natural enmity toward the organization dedicated to eradicating their kind.

But Willias misjudged the depth of James’ hatred. His loathing wasn’t born from mere demonic instinct since he wasn’t a Demon to begin with but it was more personal…

Ivan, the man whose memories James shared, had suffered the Church’s evil deeds firsthand. They had razed his village to the ground, subjected him and his sisters—Ludmila, Kamila, Mikhail, and Dimitri—to unspeakable torment. Those memories, like scars etched into a soul, burned within James as if they were his own.

James prided himself on being a man of his word. Yet, his sense of honor was twisted. He had a knack for bending situations to his advantage, manipulating events so that the blame always seemed to lie with others. Even now, he played the part of the puppet master, orchestrating this spectacle purely for his own amusement.

He clearly hadn’t enough only with Ten Holy Coins, a promised Relic of Seraphiel. He wanted more as the greedy person he was.

To James, the sight of someone from the Holy Church meeting their end wasn’t just business—it was sport. It wasn’t worth gold to him obviously, but it was infinitely more entertaining.

“Tell me your name, Demon,” Willias asked after a derisive chuckle.

“Hm? My name?” James pondered the question.

He allowed himself a brief pause, weighing his options. Since he was already playing the role of a demon, he decided to fully embrace the performance. For a moment, he considered revealing the name of the Devil Ivan had subdued but dismissed the idea—it was better to keep that ace hidden for now. Fortunately, his knowledge of Yvan’s Earth included a wealth of demon lore. He plucked a name from memory at random, one that might stir them.

“Call me Astaroth,” James said confidently, his eyes scanning their faces for a reaction. “I’m sure that name rings a bell.”

The response was immediate. Reynold and Sina froze, their faces paling at the mention of the name. Astaroth was no ordinary demon. He was a Devil—one of the highest-ranked and most powerful entities, shrouded in legends of devastation. It was said that Astaroth had vanished thousands of years ago, but his name still struck fear into those who knew its weight.

“You think we’ll believe that?” Willias asked with a laugh. He didn’t believe James for a second.

As if a Devil would appear out of nowhere and asking a ransom.

If James were truly Astaroth, Willias reasoned, the overwhelming aura of the Devil’s corruption would have been visible to him. Yet, James exuded none of it. By contrast, Gin’s corruption was glaringly obvious to his senses. However, Willias couldn’t entirely dismiss the possibility. Perhaps James was powerful enough to mask his corruption, or worse, he had only recently possessed the body he now inhabited. The notion of a mere human orchestrating this entire scheme out of greed with a demon under his command never even crossed Willias’s mind.

Meanwhile, Cattleya watched the exchange with an internal grimace. James’s lies flowed effortlessly, almost seductively, and she couldn’t help but marvel at how convincingly he played the part. As someone deeply attuned to the presence of corruption, Cattleya was certain that James was neither possessed nor hosting a Devil within him. She would have been the first to sense such malevolence.

Still, she remained silent. Despite her distaste for his deceit, she owed him her life. Moreover, his actions thus far had shown no ill intent toward her or her family. He was just a greedy idiot for her albeit abnormaly strong idiot.

“You don’t believe me, huh?” James raised a brow as he leaned closer, resting his chin lightly on Cattleya’s shoulder.

Cattleya turned her gaze away.

‘He… smells so good!’

She couldn’t understand how someone who lived like a pirate could exude such a clean, sophisticated air. Everything about him—his posture, his demeanor, even his clothes—screamed laziness, yet he carried an aura of refinement that left her feeling strange.

James, however, had his piercing red eyes locked on Willias. A small smirk played on his lips.

‘It wouldn’t hurt to show a glimpse of it.’

Delving deep within himself, he reached the part of his being where Ivan had sealed the Devil with his Stigma and his Lost Arcana.

“…!”

Cattleya’s body shuddered violently as a wave of corruption radiated from James. Her entire frame went rigid. It wasn’t like any corruption she had felt before—this was something far more powerful, ancient, and suffocating. Yet, oddly enough, it lacked the malevolence she associated with such darkness. It was overwhelming in its intensity, but it carried a paradoxical sense of balance.

‘H–How…?!’

Until this moment, she had been utterly convinced James had no connection to any Devil. Yet here she was, shaken to her core, unable to reconcile her instincts with what she was experiencing.

The sheer weight of the corrupted mana overwhelmed her, and her knees buckled beneath her. Before she could collapse, James swiftly caught her arm. With a subtle motion, he shielded her with his Stigma, forming an invisible barrier that insulated her from the oppressive aura.

“Make sure she doesn’t run away,” James said curtly, handing Cattleya off to Gin.

“Y—Yes, Your Majesty,” Gin stuttered, dropping to one knee with a hand over his chest. His voice trembled.

The moment Gin had sensed the presence of a Devil within James, his entire demeanor shifted. He hadn’t expected this revelation—the man who had defeated him was not just powerful but appeared to be the reincarnation of a Devil. Of Astaroth, no less.

Of course, this conclusion was entirely wrong. But to Gin, it made perfect sense, and any grudge he might have held instantly vanished. Without a second thought, he swore loyalty to James, his former resentment replaced with absolute devotion.

Unaware of Gin’s growing reverence, James turned his attention to Willias. The confidence in Willias’s smile evaporated, leaving his face pale and drawn.

“Where has gone your smile, old man,” James laughed.

“Sina, get back!” Reynold shouted, drawing a sword.

Nearby, Isabel Asterion tensed, sweat trickling down her temples.

“I’m too old for this,” she muttered under her breath. Memories of her younger days, when she had encountered a Devil, flashed in her mind. This time, however, the stakes felt infinitely higher.

“Impossible…” Willias whispered, his body trembling as he grappled with the enormity of what he faced. Raised since childhood to believe Devils were the epitome of evil, he had devoured countless books describing their strength and malevolence. Yet never had he encountered one in person.

James raised his hand, and corrupted mana oozed from it, coalescing into a long, black spike that writhed with dark mana and emitted an ominous black smoke. He raised the weapon at them with a smile hidden beneath his mask.

“Try to entertain me at least a bit, Exorcists.”