I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

Chapter 125 A New Student

"Today, you're getting a new classmate."

The words came from a stunning woman in her late thirties. Her sleek black hair framed her face, but her expression was less than thrilled. This was Janeece Ranberg, the professor for Exorcism Case Analysis and Tactical Response—a course every student knew was no joke.

At her announcement, the first-year Elite students in the lecture hall broke into a flurry of surprised whispers.

A new student? In the middle of the semester? That was unheard of—especially for the Elite Class. Four months had passed since the term began, and they'd just returned from a week-long break. The timing of the announcement was convenient, sure, but still shocking. If someone was joining now, they had to be either a prodigy, someone with serious connections, or both.

"You may enter," Janeece said, turning toward the door.

The heavy door creaked open, and in walked a young man who looked like he was in his late teens.

Gasps rippled through the hall—mostly from the girls.

This guy was stunning. The kind of handsome you only saw in magazines or movies. His loose blonde hair framed his face perfectly, but it was his eyes that truly caught everyone's attention. A deep hue of red. He carried himself with a swagger that said: 'I own this place.'

His small smirk didn't help either—it was the perfect mix of charm and arrogance. But beneath the polished exterior, his attitude felt entirely out of place in the prestigious academy.

As expected, the male students weren't impressed. Frowns popped up across the room. One of them was especially not hiding his hatred and anger but James ignored it.

"Introduce yourself," Professor Ranberg said not really caring about it. If he was here he deserved it.

The new arrival stepped onto the stage, his red eyes scanning the room. First, they landed on Aaron, then shifted to the student beside him.

His face was definitely that of Leon Cromwell, but in reality, this wasn't Leon. It was Gorn, possessing a body that Davon Crook had once called his own. Had been spent a full week ensuring the body was ready to bypass the academy's extensive security measures.

But at the end it seemed the gamble had paid off.

All thanks to Adam's genius and Ivan's Stigma, also Urvan's help.

The moment Gorn laid eyes on James, he shot to his feet, instinctively ready to drop to his knees in a salute to his Lord Astaroth. Thankfully, Aaron acted fast, grabbing Gorn's arm and yanking him back into his seat with enough force to avoid a full-blown spectacle.

"Sit down!" Aaron whispered, barely masking his irritation. The last thing he needed was Gorn embarrassing both of them—and by extension, Ivan. At this point, Aaron had stopped questioning why his lord appeared in so many different forms. It was strange, sure, but he'd accepted it as another layer of divine mystery.

James, now standing at the front of the lecture hall, gave a polite smile. "James Arnold Grayling. You can call me James or Arnold," he said casually.

Professor Ranberg waited for a moment, expecting him to elaborate, but when it became clear he wouldn't, she simply gestured toward the seats.

"You may take a seat," she said.

With a nod, James strode up the stairs, ignoring the rows in the front. He passed the section where Aaron and Leon were seated without a second glance, continuing all the way to the back.

The right side of the last rows was already claimed—Lucas Whiteford and his gang occupied the seats there, with Cattleya Starlight and her entourage one row below. The left side, however, was empty. Without hesitation, James settled himself in the farthest corner, as if the unspoken rules about the back rows didn't exist.

Professor Ranberg shot him a brief, disapproving look but didn't comment. She turned her attention back to the lecture, clearly ready to move on.

It was Seraphiel.

In his darkest moments, her presence reached him, he felt her touch, soothing a little of his agonizing pain. It was a small mercy, but one that left an indelible mark.

Eventually, Ivan's father came for them, rescuing his children and their friends from the Church's grip. But by then, it was too late. The scars—physical and emotional—ran too deep. Among the survivors, Ivan bore the heaviest burden.

Now, standing in the lecture room, James's gaze was cold and detached as he watched the young girl on the screen, writhing under the Exorcist's spells of light. Her anguished face blurred in his mind, overlapping with memories: his sisters, Ludmila, Kamila—the faces of those who had suffered as he had.

"The exorcism lasted a month," the professor continued. "In the end, Nora was saved. But the ordeal left her unable to walk or speak. Now, she lives peacefully with her family."

The projection shifted, showing Nora in a wheelchair, her expression blank, her eyes hollow.

"Wow, she looks so peaceful, doesn't she?" James's voice rang out accompanied by a dry laugh.

The room fell silent, every head turning toward him. Even the professor stared, speechless.

"What?" James pointed at the screen, his tone light but dripping with sarcasm. "Look at her! Doesn't she just scream happiness?"

"Do you have a question, Mr. Grayling?" Janeece asked sternly.

James leaned back lazily, a grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I was just wondering... was it the demon possession that hurt her, or the Exorcist?"

The hall collectively froze. Every pair of eyes turned toward James, jaws dropping in disbelief.

Continue your saga on empire

Was he seriously comparing demons to Exorcists?

"The Exorcists are saving them, you idiot!" Theresa Mistral snapped, standing up.

"Saving them?" James laughed. "It looks more like torturing to me."

Janeece's frown deepened as she shot back, "The exorcism process is a necessary pain. It's what frees the victims from possession and gives them their lives back."

James tilted his head, his tone icy. "If saving someone means inflicting more pain on people who are already broken—on little girls, no less—then the people doing the exorcisms? I'd call them dumb and incompetent."

The temperature in the room dropped as Janeece's gaze hardened. "You're here to graduate as an Exorcist, Mr. Grayling. By now, you should understand the complexities of this job. If the sight of blood or the reality of what it takes is too much for you, you're welcome to leave."

A ripple of mocking chuckles and murmurs spread through the classroom, students exchanging smug glances.

But James simply smiled, pushing his chair back and standing up. "You are right."

Without waiting for another word, he stepped onto the desk in front of him, ignoring the curses and protests from his classmates. With a smirk, he hopped from desk to desk, making his way to the door.

The room buzzed with disbelief and annoyance, but James didn't care. He threw the door open and walked out, his swift exit leaving the classroom in stunned silence.