The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

Ravian’s eyes met his master’s after an absence that had felt anything but brief. In reality, barely a few weeks had passed, yet now that their paths had crossed again, it seemed as though years had gone by since Karius had last seen him.

The Ravian before him bore almost no real resemblance to the boy he remembered. Perhaps the only features that remained unchanged were his crimson eyes and his soft, lustrous white hair.

But his body had grown taller and straighter, his shoulders now those of a true knight rather than a youth whose spiritual power had merely awakened. Even his formerly inexplicable coldness had given way to a still, calm expression, like the surface of a lake, revealing neither anger, sorrow, nor detachment. The only thing one might catch in his gaze was a faint trace of pride, as though it were slipping out without his intention.

He looked as though he had endured much, far too much, before finally learning how to control his expressions. Even his former air of recklessness seemed to have diminished considerably; his eyes now held an understanding of how serious danger could be, and how dearly it could cost both him and those around him.

Ravian looked as though he had...

Learned the truth of this world.

Karius kept his gaze fixed on him. There were many things he wanted to discuss, argue over, and even punish Ravian for, but one question now rose above them all, something he had to be certain of before anything else.

Sigh...

Karius sighed, his gaze growing markedly sterner as though he had reached a decision, then slowly approached until he stood directly before Ravian with only a few centimeters between them, revealing how much the difference in their heights had diminished.

Ravian did not step back as he looked at his master, waiting for a decision that would determine much of the future, not only for himself, but for the entire human race.

Then Karius opened his mouth and said the last thing Ravian had expected.

”Who are you, boy?”

Ravian froze.

So did the soldiers who had withdrawn to give their commander room to handle the situation, all of them rooted to the spot at the question.

Who are you?

Should their commander not recognize his own disciple easily? Even they, who had only glimpsed sketches of him during the search, could now see the resemblance despite the changes in his appearance.

Ravian was no less bewildered, his brow furrowing in irritation.

’What does this old man mean? Is he playing word games now?’

Although it sounded like a joke, nothing in Karius’s expression suggested he was joking, which only deepened Ravian’s confusion. Then, just as he was about to answer, he saw it.

Anyone else might have missed it, but Ravian had been subjected to this nonsense often enough to recognize it immediately.

Karius’s eyes gleamed with a strange white light, as though they were clouding over at an unnatural speed, and the change had begun only when he asked his question.

Who else had Ravian seen do this?

Those who had come closer than anyone else to truly eliminating him.

The Taboo of Truth and its Ambassador.

It was the same state Robert had entered when asking those peculiar questions in the tavern and Earl Viola’s office: brief, pointed questions demanding clear, direct answers rather than explanations. They formulated each question carefully before asking it, leaving the person answering no room to evade.

And now, what Ravian had witnessed from Robert and the Taboo of Truth when it descended appeared to be happening with Karius as well.

’Don’t tell me... Is he an Ambassador of Truth too?’

The possibility was both disturbing and difficult to accept.

His master, the only person he had formed a genuine connection with since arriving in this world, was aligned with one of the Taboos already trying to eliminate him?

Despite the strange feeling stirring within him, Ravian allowed none of this suspicion to show on his face. He was no longer that foolish, keeping his expression calm and holding his master’s gaze so as not to arouse suspicion.

Then he opened his mouth to answer.

”I am Ravian Veyr, your disciple, loyal to the human race, Master.”

The words emerged in a tone that seemed to honor himself more than his master or humanity, as though he were congratulating Karius on acquiring such an extraordinary disciple and the entire race on having him among their ranks.

That was what Sovereign Pride did whenever it sensed that the words Ravian was about to speak might diminish his standing.

Was a disciple not beneath his master in status? Of course he was.

So Sovereign Pride turned what should have honored the master’s position into praise for the master having acquired such a disciple in the first place.

At his answer, the white gleam in Karius’s eyes gradually dimmed until it vanished entirely.

The truth, free of even a trace of falsehood.

That was the conclusion Karius reached.

His stern expression immediately gave way to a spontaneous smile, one without sorrow or regret, the same smile he had worn when he first took Ravian as his disciple.

Then—

”Bwahahahahaha!!”

Karius’s deep laughter echoed throughout the forest and into the camp, amplified by his aura.

”This old man’s disciple has returned, you worthless lot!”

It was an old man’s joy at the return of his legacy, because that was what Ravian truly represented to Karius.

More than a young man who reminded him of his deceased son, or an exceptionally talented disciple, he was the legacy Karius had chosen to nurture and leave in this world before his death.

Ravian looked at his master, who was now laughing like a fool and clapping both hands against his shoulders with enough force to have crushed his bones before.

’Tsk, this old fool hasn’t changed at all since I left,’ Ravian thought.

Then he remembered the earlier gleam in Karius’s eyes.

’Well, so what if he works for the Taboo of Truth?’

’Wouldn’t killing the Taboo of Truth once and for all solve the problem?’

It sounded like a foolish fantasy, didn’t it?

But to Ravian, it was merely a decision, and carrying it out was only a matter of time.

Whether they were Taboos or anything else made little difference, so long as they could taste death.

He would make certain they did.