The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

The mist gathered abruptly at the center of the distance between them and rose slowly until it took the shape of a tall existence resembling a human being.

It had no face.

Every time Ravian tried to focus on the place where its head should be, he saw different features for a fleeting instant: a single eye, a smiling mask, a face with no skin, and then a smooth emptiness that held nothing at all.

His mind couldn’t fix a single image of it; it seemed instead like an entity whose shape was continuously changing.

Some of those present drew back, wary of this new entity.

Ravian, on the other hand, kept his gaze fixed on it without allowing his features to signal any kind of emotion whatsoever.

At the very least, not until he knew who had brought them here and what the purpose of their coming was.

And he certainly wouldn’t attempt anything stupid, because whoever had been able to drag his soul here in that manner...

couldn’t possibly be an ordinary existence by any measure, and that only deepened the anxiety inside Ravian’s heart.

Because he knew that he was no longer entirely safe after his encounter with the Descent of Truth. Even with Sovereign Pride and extra lives on his side.

This world was absurdly more dangerous than he had assumed.

The unknown existence suddenly spread its arms open, which cut Ravian’s thoughts short.

And when it spoke, the voice didn’t come out from where it stood.

It appeared directly inside their souls.

”Welcome to the Nightmare World.”

They heard a deep, booming voice, and before it finished the sentence it had turned feminine, and then fractured by the end of it.

”In the moment each one of you attempted to ascend to the Walker rank, the net caught your exposed souls,” the entity said in a deep voice carrying an undisguised delight.

”Kikikikiki...” And then it let out a laugh that seemed low, and yet everyone present in that place heard it.

Ravian’s eyes widened when he heard it.

’It’s deranged... not remotely normal,’ Ravian thought, and with every passing moment the gleam of hope in his eyes dimmed further.

But it didn’t go out.

’If it had wanted to kill us, it would have done it long ago...’ Ravian guessed, running his eyes over the eight members one after another, examining them all over again.

’So there’s some other end in its mind that it wants from us.’

Then the unknown entity looked at the nine of them, Ravian among them, or seemed to.

”What stands here is not your bodies, but your spiritual forms. And this domain is the Mirage of the Soul, separate from the world you came from.”

The entity said this, and then followed it with:

”Heeheehee heeheehee...”

That unsettling laugh that raised gooseflesh on the body of every one of the nine standing before it.

The broad-shouldered man said sharply, unable to bear the calm any longer, ”Who are you?”

The existence didn’t turn toward him at all; the mist merely trembled very slightly.

Then the mist surrounding them changed.

Within it appeared the shadows of doors and walls and distant corridors, and then they vanished before completing themselves, as though an entire world were waiting on a single signal to take its shape.

”This is the Nightmare World.”

”Nine people entered, but only one soul will leave.”

The announcement came down like thunder, and silence fell.

Even those who had been on the verge of screaming stopped.

”Among you there is a single killer. As for the other eight, their road to survival is exposing him. The first to correctly expose the killer’s identity, with proof, will be the sole survivor.”

”Kikikiki...” And then it followed that with a laugh that appeared alongside a smile across that featureless face, before dissolving instantly.

”As for the killer, if he succeeds in reducing the number of participants to three—himself and two others—before his identity is exposed, then victory will be his, and he will leave alone.”

The expressions of everyone present froze all over again.

Glances immediately began moving between them.

Suspicion, doubt, confidence in winning, greed, despair.

Every kind of emotion surfaced on their faces, and all of them were emotions that were either repellent or pitiable, except for one alone.

One single person, in whose gaze the pride never once went out regardless of the situation.

A moment ago, they had been nine victims gathered together by the same catastrophe.

And now, every one of them had become a possibility of death.

”W-what about the two people who’ll be left at the end if the killer wins?” asked the woman in the blue robe, her voice trembling with terror.

An inhuman smile appeared suddenly across the unknown entity’s face, unnaturally wide, as it said:

”They’ll die.”

Everyone standing there held their breath in spite of themselves at the horror of the situation.

That simply meant that eight of the nine were going to die either way.

The thin young man said, ”And how do we know you’ll hold to what you’ve said?”

The existence answered him this time.

”You won’t.”

Then it raised a hand that settled on neither a single shape nor any definite number of fingers.

”Each one of you will have his role displayed to him alone. No one is able to see another person’s role, and even the killer will only know that he himself is the killer.”

”And everyone will be barred from using their skills or their power,” the entity said in a voice both malicious and gleeful.

”Now let the mind games begin.”

The mist began circling around their feet.

A slightly different mirage appeared in front of each person, but Ravian couldn’t see what was written in any of them.

It wasn’t like a System window; it wasn’t white, and no red veins ringed it.

It consisted of a transparent black cloud of mist, inside which a slow violet mist moved to draw out the words meant to be written.

{Assigning role.}

Ravian waited.

Not an eyelid flickered.

Then the role he was going to play appeared in front of him.

Ravian read the three lines that appeared before him all at once.

’F*ck my life,’ he swore inwardly, and tried as hard as he possibly could not to let any expression show on his face.

{Role: The Killer}

{Role objective: conceal your identity, and reduce the number of participants to three before one of them exposes you.}

{Upon fulfilling the condition, you will be the sole survivor.}

Then he lifted his eyes to the eight faces that had begun to conceal their windows and their reactions.

And in that same instant, the voice of the unknown existence slid into his ear like a whisper born inside his own soul.

”Welcome to the Nightmare World, you new ascenders. Let the game begin.”

>>>>

Sunglasses’ note:

Volume Three has finally come to a successful close: The Walker.

Next volume: The Nightmare.

Thank you for the Golden Tickets and Power Stones. For every 20 Golden Tickets, I’ll release a bonus Chapter.