The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

Ravian left the tent and found Malrik waiting for him outside.

The atmosphere between them was still tense, but it seemed Malrik had buried whatever suspicion had been lurking inside him over the course of their conversation.

”Let’s head to my tent,” Malrik said, taking the lead.

Ravian followed calmly, glancing at the tents around him as they went.

There were at least ten meters between each tent and the next, arranged in a balanced way that allowed the fastest possible response in an emergency while still leaving those inside some privacy—except for Lysandra’s tent and those of the other women, which sat a little farther apart from the rest.

’So it would be difficult to attack one tent after another without the culprit being noticed... then how the hell did I die so easily in the middle of all this security?’ Ravian still didn’t understand the mystery behind his death.

’Unless... there was more than one of them. Enough to keep the others occupied.’ A dangerous thought crossed his mind.

And the first suspect in his eyes—unexpectedly—was not Tom, Claria’s assistant.

It was Malrik.

The leader of the Death Squad himself.

’There’s no way an intruder slips into a tent without Malrik sensing it. And if an intruder of that caliber really did come, I definitely wouldn’t have been his first target.’ Ravian ran the scene from every angle in his head, but the mystery stayed buried and unsolved.

Which, unfortunately, left him with only one option.

’Find the truth myself.’

He made the decision inwardly as he followed Malrik through the tents until they reached the one they were headed for.

The entire way, Ravian felt a suspicious sensation—as though he were being watched.

No—monitored.

But no matter how much he looked around, he found nothing, which only raised his alertness further, especially since he didn’t understand how he had sensed such a thing in the first place.

When they arrived, Malrik went in first, and Ravian followed.

The moment they entered, Malrik crossed to the wardrobe in the corner, opened it, and pulled out a pair of loose trousers along with a medium-quality linen shirt—anything that would do the job—then tossed them to Ravian.

Ravian caught them, mildly surprised, and raised a curious look at Malrik.

”What? You think I’d let you walk out in front of everyone tomorrow looking like that, as a representative of the Death Squad? Over my dead body,”

Malrik said, wearing an expression of pure pity as he looked at the things on Ravian that could barely be called clothes.

”A respectable point of view,” Ravian nodded, glancing down at his one-sleeved shirt.

”By the way, where’s the other sleeve—” Malrik started, then his gaze rose to the cloth wrapped around Ravian’s head.

”Ah—forget it.” He went and lay down on the bed in the middle of the tent.

As soon as he was settled, he pointed a hand toward the corner.

Ravian followed the gesture and found the spare cot waiting for him.

”That one’s yours. Get some rest,” Malrik said, pulling the blanket up over his torso and leaving Ravian alone with his thoughts.

Ravian took off his worn-out clothes without a sound and tossed them into a corner of the tent.

’My mother would have beaten me half to death for doing this at home. But I think it’s fine here... I think.’ He thought it with a faint smile.

Then he pulled on the new trousers, followed by the shirt. The clothes were a little large on him, but they were comfortable and didn’t scrape against his skin the way his old ones had.

’It seems money is necessary in a person’s life no matter what world he’s in, doesn’t it?’ Ravian mused, looking down at the first decent thing he’d worn since arriving in this world.

’Ah—if only I had a sword too.’ He clenched a fist in quiet frustration.

The feeling of swinging a sword for the first time genuinely couldn’t be put into words. He still remembered the clean, magnificent movement with which he’d finished Max off with complete ease.

’I hope someone important falls near me tomorrow so I can pick up his expensive sword. Whatever—I just hope I find the sword without the person who killed its owner, so I don’t end up lying on the ground right next to him.’ Ravian thought, genuinely unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Once he’d finished changing and setting his old clothes aside, he climbed onto his cot and considered something for a moment.

But this time, he didn’t waste any. He lay down quickly, pulled the blanket over himself, and closed his eyes as if drifting off to sleep.

As the seconds passed, both Malrik’s breathing and his own began to settle, little by little.

’Absolute Focus.’ Ravian activated his ability without warning.

Almost immediately, his breathing took on the rhythm of someone genuinely asleep, and his heartbeat slowed noticeably, beat by beat.

After the first second—nothing.

A minute passed—still nothing.

But once roughly five minutes had gone by, something changed inside the tent.

Someone rose from his bed.

A tall figure with blond hair, green eyes, and a noble bearing.

Malrik, naturally.

He got up, hung his axe across his back, then turned and walked straight toward Ravian.

Ravian almost broke out of his Absolute Focus state in that instant—but he caught himself at the last second.

Malrik reached his cot.

He simply stood there, looking down at Ravian as he slept. But what came out of his mouth was not what Ravian had been bracing for.

”Tsk. Damn it, boy—you’re only making more work for me,” Malrik said, then turned his back on Ravian and... walked out of the tent?

’What was that? What did he mean by that? And where is he going at this hour, with everyone asleep?’

Ravian had no shortage of questions and no answers to any of them.

It didn’t last long.

He heard footsteps—faint, nearly silent—approaching the tent. If not for the Absolute Focus state he was in and his awakening-enhanced senses, he wouldn’t have caught them at all.

The tent flap opened again, and someone stepped inside.

But wait—

This wasn’t Malrik.