I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

"Shit."

"K–King? What's—"

"Stay close to me. Don't leave my side, no matter what. Do you understand?" King cut her off his azure eyes as serious as they had never been.

Sherilyn shivered.

She had never seen King like this—panicked, uneasy, and... afraid.

–Spurt!

A sudden spray of blood splattered across her black dress, staining it in vivid red.

Sherilyn's eyes widened in shock as her gaze lowered.

A pale, alabaster hand dripping with blood, pierced through King's stomach from behind.

"Ugh…" King groaned, blood spilling from his lips as his knees trembled.

Sherilyn froze in place, too stunned to move.

Then she saw her— the Goddess.

Standing right behind King, serene and terrifying.

"R–Run..." King managed to rasp.

But Sherilyn couldn't move, her limbs refusing to obey. Her wide eyes were locked on the wound, on the crimson tide pouring from King.

"RUN!" King yelled loudly this time, breaking through her paralysis. It was a desperate shout—something he would never do to a woman.

Tears streaked down Sherilyn's cheeks seeing King's dying state. Finally, her feet moved, and she fled.

"How dare you, my King."

The Goddess's voice was soft whisper brushed King's ear.

Her white gown, which was now smeared with his blood, fluttered lightly.

King turned his head slightly, wincing at the pain. "Q–Queen... Let me explain—hmm!"

But his words were stolen as the Goddess closed the distance, pressing her lips against his in a kiss.

It wasn't gentle. It was a hungry and fierce one. She kissed him deeply, her tongue tasting the blood on his lips, all while her arm remained buried in his torso.

Thirty agonizing seconds passed before she pulled back, her eyes devoid of emotion. Her free hand caressed his cheek tenderly.

-Spurt!

Then, without a word, she withdrew her blood-soaked arm.

–Thud!

King collapsed to his knees, coughing violently as more blood poured from the gaping wound.

"..."

Queen stood over him, her cold gaze lingering on his broken form. Then, as if he were nothing more than an afterthought, she turned away.

"I'll be back," she said, almost indifferent. "Stay here."

"Q–Queen!" King choked out. But she was already gone, her form vanishing in particles.

King's bloodied fingers curled against the ground. He didn't need to guess where she was going.

She was going after Sherilyn. And she would make sure Sherilyn's fate was worse than death.

She had never shown mercy to anyone—men, women, not even children. The only exception she'd ever made was for King, and that mercy had extended to children only after she became a mother herself.

For Atla Ceres Queen, her entire world revolved around two people: King and Nayeli.

Beyond them, nothing else mattered. She would kill anyone, obliterate anything that dared to stand in their way—or her way. Even if it was something King cherished, she wouldn't hesitate. She didn't care, because she knew the truth:

King could never hate her. No matter what she did, even if she slaughtered countless children, he would always love her. Just as she would never hate him, no matter his actions.

But that didn't mean she didn't get angry.

Her anger wasn't loud or fiery. She never screamed or raged. Instead, her wrath showed itself through her actions, which spoke louder than words ever could.

Queen's gaze locked onto Sherilyn, who was fleeing in desperation.

Sherilyn darted through a panicked crowd. People were either running for their lives or frozen in place, staring in stunned silence at the Goddess hovering above them.

Queen didn't care about the crowd. She didn't care if they were innocent families or guilty men. They were irrelevant.
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She raised her hand, ready to unleash a wave of destruction that would annihilate everyone in her path. Sherilyn would not escape. She just hoped she would be alive to torture her personally.

But suddenly, two massive attacks came hurtling toward her—one from her left, a beam of searing light, and another from her right, a powerful gust of wind.

Hunters.

Perched on rooftops, hidden in alleyways, or standing openly in the streets, they revealed themselves one by one. Each was armored and ready for battle.

"Don't let her move!"

"Attack her! Now!"

The Hunters—some seasoned warriors, others merely opportunistic Guild members who had sensed the disturbance—were all drawn by the appearance of the Goddess.

Their instincts screamed warnings. They shouldn't tricked by her divine beauty: she was no benevolent deity. She was a monster wearing the skin of a Goddess.

Queen didn't spare them so much as a glance.

The first wave of attacks crashed into her, only to disintegrate before reaching her body. A faint, whitish-gold barrier shimmered around her like a second skin, absorbing the attacks.

"What the hell is that…?" A Hunter muttered, disbelief etched across his face.

"Keep attacking! Don't stop!"

The Hunters doubled down, launching a barrage of magic and weaponry. More of them appeared by the second, encircling the Queen from every direction.

Yet, not a single strike landed.

The onslaught dissipated against her divine barrier, the energy fading into nothingness as though the attacks themselves had never existed.

"Are you kidding me...?"

An A-rank Hunter stood frozen, his face pale with disbelief. He had unleashed one of his most devastating spells—a tornado strong enough to obliterate entire buildings and leave the ground in ruins. Yet, Queen remained unscathed. She hadn't even flinched.

Not a finger had been lifted on her part, and yet her presence alone exuded an oppressive, almost suffocating aura. Her focus was elsewhere, her gaze scanning the area as if searching for someone.

Sherilyn.

Somewhere amidst the chaos, Sherilyn had concealed herself, perhaps the only one capable of drawing Queen's attention.

To Queen, everyone else except two people were so insignificant they barely registered. That might be the reason why she was having hard time finding Sherilyn amidst the other ants.

"Is she really a Goddess, leader?"

"She looks divine, but… she's terrifying."

"Pull yourself together! Are you a Hunter from the Whiteford Guild or not?"

A group of five Hunters emerged suddenly, their leader had a confident grin with a massive sword strapped across his back. The emblem on their uniforms shone proudly: they were from the Whiteford Guild, one of the few existing Seven-Star Guilds. The sight of them sent ripples of relief through the terrified crowd.

"It's the Whiteford Guild! We're saved!"

The civilians erupted into a wave of hope as they recognized the insignia. Even the exhausted Hunters, who had failed to land even a scratch on the Queen, straightened up and rallied around the newcomers.

"Thank goodness. Now we might stand a chance."

"Let's team up and take her down."

But the Whiteford Guild's S-rank leader, Maroon, scoffed. A low, mocking chuckle escaped his lips, just like his team.

"Team up? With weaklings like you?" Maroon sneered. "We don't need your help to take her down."

"You don't understand what she's capable of!" The A-Rank Hunter glared.

"It doesn't matter," Maroon said, his narrowed eyes locked onto Queen, a divine and unearthly beauty who hadn't spared them a single glance. She seemed wholly uninterested in the commotion they caused, her focus still fixed on her unseen prey.

"She won't know what hit her," Maroon said, gripping the hilt of his massive sword with a smirk.

Taking it down, he spoke up. "I was hoping for a pleasant conversation, but your unwillingness to compromise is disappointing. I will do my best to not harm your pretty face, and I hope we can get a dinner after someday!!"

Maroon grinned as he launched himself toward Queen. His figure blurred in a flash, slicing through the air with astounding speed. The civilians below could barely track his movements, their gasps drowned out by the roaring power of his blade.

The massive sword in his grasp ignited, its flames burning so fiercely they seemed to scorch the very atmosphere. Thick, pulsating mana enveloped the weapon, radiating an overwhelming pressure that made even the bystanders tremble.

Yet, despite the deadly spectacle rushing toward her, Queen didn't so much as glance in his direction. Her focus remained elsewhere looking for Sherilyn.

When Maroon closed within two meters, the moment of impact imminent, Queen moved for the first time. With a casual, almost disinterested motion, she raised her hand.

—Spurt!

"Huh…?"

Maroon's eyes widened in shock, his charge coming to a sudden, jarring halt. He hovered mid-air, confusion giving way to horror as he looked down.

His arms were gone. Severed cleanly at the shoulders, the stumps gushed crimson. A moment later, his legs followed suit, sliced as easily as paper. The large, flaming sword he had wielded with such confidence clattered to the ground, still clutched in his dismembered hand.

Blood sprayed in every direction as his mangled body plummeted. The world tilted, spinning wildly in his vision as he descended.

The last thing Maroon saw was her.

The Goddess.

Floating there. Her gaze never once meeting his. She hadn't spared him even the faintest acknowledgment—not at the beginning, not during his assault, and not even now as his broken form fell to the earth.

***

Meanwhile King's attempt to recover had ended up into a failure. It was too slow.

"Argh… fuck," King groaned, slumping on his back.

This was the main problem of having taken a true Goddess for a wife—a Goddess far stronger than him.

King had always known he was weaker than her. But despite her overwhelming power, he was the only one capable of keeping her in check. Or at least, he had been.

Today, he had pushed her too far.

In his current state, or even at full strength, King knew he couldn't stop her. He couldn't calm her rage, let alone defeat her.

And to be honest even if he was stronger than her, he would have unable to harm her. He was King after all and Queen had always been everything to him.

King grumbled spitting blood.

He had no choice but to give the job to a better person…

"S–Switch..." He muttered painfully as his body began to change.