The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

Inside Room 709.

Morning light from an unknown source had begun to stream through the palace windows, carrying with it a new day of schemes and fragile alliances—and, more importantly, heralding the opening of the accusation window for the innocent participants.

The White Bell rang at dawn.

A white-haired young man with an almost unnervingly well-proportioned physique lay sleeping peacefully on his bed until the sound of the bell disturbed his repose.

Ravian opened his eyes before its first echo had faded. Pale mirage mist was already gathering before him, condensing into a single sentence.

{The number of participants is: 4.}

’What...?’ Ravian thought, his eyes widening.

For several seconds, Ravian did not move.

The previous night had begun with six participants still alive. Sylvan’s death should have reduced that number to five.

Not four.

The last trace of amusement vanished from Ravian’s crimson eyes.

’Someone else killed a participant last night?’

The possibility was difficult for Ravian to accept.

He was certain that the day had ended with everyone returning to their rooms for the night; only then had he gone out to find Sylvan and eliminate Sylvan’s chance of survival.

So when, exactly, had that other person died?

No. How had that person even died? No accusation could be made, nor any trial held, after the Black Bell’s first toll—much less once night had fully fallen.

’So how the hell did the number drop by two instead of one?!’

Ravian clutched handfuls of his long white hair in both fists, his crimson eyes burning with murderous anger.

’This means only one thing,’ Ravian thought, a coldness unlike anything he had shown before settling over his face. ’That damned nightmare did not tell us all of its rules and limitations.’

Until now, Ravian’s calculations had depended entirely on the assumption that he alone was capable of killing and sowing terror in the participants’ hearts whenever he wished. But what if someone else had suddenly gained the ability to kill, just like him?

’The palace will descend into utter chaos,’ Ravian thought with a slightly troubled expression, one he had never worn here before. This new factor had ruined all his previous plans.

That meant he had to reconsider everything he had intended to do.

Yet the very next moment brought something that drove Ravian’s concern to its peak.

The mist appeared before him again as he remained seated on the bed, delivering the rest of the day’s notifications.

{A hidden tool has been found.}

{The Traitor’s Tool has been activated.}

{Its bearer has murdered an innocent participant with their own hands.}

{The bearer is no longer bound by Evernight Palace’s prohibition against direct murder.}

{The bearer may kill any participant within Evernight Palace—including the Killer.}

{The bearer has forfeited every other path to survival.}

{The bearer may leave Evernight Palace only as its sole survivor.}

{Warning: Every act of betrayal carries consequences.}

At the first line, Ravian’s brows drew together in a frown. At the second, that slight frown deepened into one of intense irritation.

From the third line onward, however, the frown gradually disappeared from his face. It was not because he had found a solution, of course; that was impossible in such a brief moment.

The situation had simply reached a point where a frown was no longer enough to express the irritation he felt, and so his expression died along with his mood.

Ravian read the messages in the mist again and again, hoping that this was merely a nightmare within a nightmare and that he would awaken from it at any moment.

But he did not.

The mist remained before him, displaying the same notifications.

Ravian closed his eyes, accepting what awaited him.

Then he opened them. The resolve in his gaze had not wavered in the slightest; instead, his crimson eyes shone even more brightly, pride mingling with determination to form an expression some might find magnificent, while others might find so terrifying that they would not dare look at him while he wore it.

This was Ravian—Ravian when his control over his anger and pride slipped enough for them to show plainly on his face, something that rarely happened even in the most difficult situations he had ever faced.

’This will be dangerous,’ Ravian thought. ’Dangerous enough that I might actually die, and I do not even know whether my extra lives work in a place like this. After all, this is an entirely separate domain belonging to a particular entity.’

’These notifications mean only one thing.’ The thought circled through Ravian’s mind for a moment as he searched for another possibility, but found none. ’The nightmare has decided to turn the Killer into the victim.’

Ravian smiled, but it did not look happy in the slightest.

’Me? I have become prey?’ Ravian repeated the thought in his mind, raising an eyebrow.

”Ha...”

”Hahahahaha!”

Ravian began laughing like a madman as he sat on his bed, clapping his hands and unable to contain himself.

The situation was obvious even to a blind man.

There was now a Traitor, and Ravian needed only one more person to die to win this nightmare.

What did that mean?

It meant that the Traitor would stop at nothing to identify and kill Ravian before going after the rest of the group.

Meanwhile, the remaining innocent participants would desperately search for the Killer—without knowing that it was Ravian—to put him on trial before the Traitor could kill him and erase their own chances of survival.

Simply put, Ravian was now the most valuable prize.

No. Ravian was now the one prize every other survivor needed to claim if they hoped to win and escape alive.

He alone had become everyone else’s target.

Gasp!

Ravian finally stopped laughing and drew a deep breath, replenishing the oxygen he had lost during his fit of laughter.

’Was the game boring because my presence made it far too easy and robbed you of your enjoyment?’ Ravian thought as he stared at the nightmare mist before him.

Then the smile vanished from his face completely, replaced by a cold, indifferent expression.

’Then let me show you what real fun looks like.’