Hatred had a sound.
Aren realized that as he walked through the palace corridors.
It wasn't loud—but it was constant. Whispers slipped between marble pillars, eyes followed him from behind tapestries, and servants lowered their heads a second too late.
Fear.
Good.
Fear kept people predictable.
But hatred?
Hatred made them reckless.
Aren's boots echoed as he entered the council chamber. The long obsidian table was already filled—nobles in embroidered robes, generals with iron badges, and at the center…
A boy bathed in light.
Blond hair. Clear blue eyes. A straight posture that screamed righteousness.
The Chosen Hero.
Even without memories, Aren would have recognized him.
But unfortunately—he had memories.
Leonhardt Vale.
The man who would one day drive a blade through Aren's heart while the world cheered.
Leonhardt turned the moment Aren entered.
Their eyes met.
And Aren felt it.
Disgust.
Pure, unfiltered hatred.
[EmotionIntake: Host Targeted by Hostility]
Source: Leonhardt Vale
Intensity: High
The system pulsed.
Synchronization ticked upward.
So even heroes feed the system, Aren thought calmly.
"Prince Aren," Leonhardt said, his voice firm, righteous, and irritatingly calm. "I heard you spared heretics today."
The council murmured.
Aren took his seat slowly.
"I passed judgment," Aren replied. "As is my authority."
Leonhardt clenched his jaw.
"Authority doesn't justify cruelty," he said. "Those people were innocent."
Aren raised an eyebrow.
"Innocent according to whom?" he asked. "You?"
The room stiffened.
Leonhardt stepped forward.
"The Holy Church—"
"—has lied before," Aren interrupted coldly.
Gasps rippled through the chamber.
Accusing the Holy Church was close to treason.
The system trembled.
[Warning]
Faith Disruption Detected
Potential Large-Scale Fear Event
Aren leaned back, unbothered.
Leonhardt's eyes burned.
"Watch your words, Prince," he said. "The gods see all."
Aren smiled faintly.
"Then they are already blind," he replied.
Silence crashed down like a blade.
Leonhardt's hand twitched toward his sword.
Aren noticed immediately.
Still immature, he noted. Easy to provoke.
"Enough," a council elder barked. "We are here to discuss border instability, not trade insults."
Leonhardt exhaled sharply and stepped back, but his eyes never left Aren.
That hatred…
It was personal.
The system chimed again.
[SystemInsightUnlocked]
Hero Status: Incomplete Condition: Faith Dependency Weakness: Doubt
Aren's breath slowed.
A hero powered by belief.
Dangerous.
But fragile.
The meeting dragged on. Reports of monsters near the northern borders.
Villages burned. Survivors praying for heroes to save them.
Leonhardt volunteered immediately.
"I'll handle it," he said confidently. "The people need hope."
Aren watched him quietly.
Hope.
That word again.
"Very well," Aren said suddenly. "I will accompany you."
The room exploded.
Leonhardt spun around.
"What?"
The council shouted objections.
"Impossible!"
"He'll corrupt the mission!"
"The people will panic!"
Fear surged.
The system drank deeply.
[EmotionIntake: Fear + Hatred]
Synchronization: 26% → 34%
Aren stood.
"I am the empire's authority," he said flatly. "If the hero fails, I will be there to clean up the mess."
Leonhardt stared at him.
"You don't belong on a battlefield," he said coldly. "You belong behind chains."
Aren stepped closer until only inches separated them.
His voice dropped.
"Careful," Aren whispered. "Hate me too much… and you might empower me."
Leonhardt recoiled slightly.
Good.
Fear mixed with hatred.
Perfect.
That night, Aren stood alone on the palace balcony.
The moon was pale.
His reflection in the glass looked calm—but inside, tension coiled tight.
The story is already changing.
In the original novel, Leonhardt never questioned the church this early. Never opposed Aren directly.
And yet…
The system interface flickered.
[MainQuestIssued]
Title: Walk Beside the Hero
Objective: Increase Hero's Doubt
FailureCondition: Hero's Absolute Faith
Reward: Shadow Skill Unlock
Penalty: System Regression
Aren's lips curved slightly.
"So now you want me to corrupt a hero."
The wind howled.
Aren's shadow stretched unnaturally long behind him—almost alive.
Fine.
If the system wanted him to be a villain…
He would become the hero's nightmare.