A complex villain is an antagonist with layers - contradictions, genuine beliefs, personal codes, and moments that surprise the reader. Unlike a stock villain who exists purely to oppose the hero, a complex villain has their own coherent worldview and acts according to an internal logic that makes sense from their perspective. Complexity does not necessarily mean sympathy. A villain can be deeply complex without the reader ever feeling sorry for them. What matters is that they feel real, unpredictable in the right ways, and worthy of the hero they oppose.
Your protagonist is only as compelling as the force they push against. A complex villain raises the stakes not just physically but intellectually and philosophically. When the antagonist has a genuine point - or at least a genuine perspective - the conflict becomes a clash of worldviews rather than a simple contest of strength. That is what turns a good story into one that sticks with readers.
Anton Chigurh is complex not because he is sympathetic but because he operates by an alien moral logic that is internally consistent. He follows his own rules absolutely, which makes him more terrifying than any purely chaotic villain.
Hannibal Lecter is complex because he is simultaneously cultured and monstrous, helpful and manipulative, charming and cannibalistic. His contradictions are what make him impossible to look away from.
Victor Vale blurs the line between protagonist and villain so thoroughly that the reader is never quite sure which label applies - and Schwab does not resolve the ambiguity for them.
The antagonistic forces in this series are layered with centuries of systemic oppression, personal betrayal, and competing survival needs, making 'villain' an inadequate word for what the characters face.
Complexity comes from depth, not just pathos. A villain can be complex because of their intelligence, their contradictions, or their internal code - not just their suffering. Hannibal Lecter is complex without being pitiable.
Show complexity through choices. Have the villain spare someone unexpectedly, follow a personal code that surprises the hero, or make a sacrifice that contradicts the reader's assumptions about them.
Complexity should sharpen the danger, not soften it. A villain with depth who is also genuinely dangerous is more frightening than either a shallow threat or a sympathetic figure the reader does not fear.
Write a scene where your villain does something that contradicts what the reader expects of them - an act of mercy, a moment of humor, an unexpected kindness, or a refusal to cross a line the reader assumed they would cross. Keep it to 300 words. Then write a second scene of the same length where the villain does something terrifying. The goal is to make both scenes feel like the same person.