The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

Karius raised a hand and drew the spear from his back.

”I came here to deal with you anyway. Consider it a courtesy that you made the job easier.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he hurled the spear with terrifying force, white energy coiling around the weapon as it left his hand.

Swoosh!

Boom!

The spear took the man’s head apart as though it were made of nothing.

His body dropped without a sound.

When the other three saw their leader — a Soul Liberator — killed in a single instant before he could so much as react, they scattered in different directions at once.

”Hm?” Karius raised an eyebrow.

”Didn’t he just tell you I’m a Guardian? And you still think you can run from me, boys?”

He pointed one finger toward the man nearest the alley’s exit.

In the next instant, the spear — which had been floating motionless in the air like a patient ghost — shot forward again at full speed.

”No—!” The man’s scream cut off.

Boom.

His head went the same way as the first. Karius pointed twice more without moving from where he stood.

”Die.” He passed judgment calmly, as if ticking items off a list.

Boom.

Boom.

The spear found the last two in rapid succession, and the alley was suddenly very quiet — four headless corpses at its center, the unconscious homeless scattered around them, and blood on everything in between.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

Karius turned.

Ravian was standing there applauding, eyes bright with genuine admiration.

”That was extraordinary, Sir Karius.” His expression was full of resolve.

”Now that is a commander worth following.”

”You little schemer! Weren’t you refusing to come with me five minutes ago?” Karius narrowed his eyes at him, more amused than anything else.

”Huh? Absolutely not.” Ravian arranged the most earnest face he could manage.

”I was born to fight for this — this glorious Empire. Under your command in particular, sir.”

”Hahahaha! You really are a shameless one, aren’t you?” Karius laughed fully, unbothered by the flattery precisely because it was so obvious.

”Shall we go?”

”Of course, Sir Karius. I’ve been ready since birth.” Ravian nodded with complete gravity.

”Weren’t you calling me ’Old Man Karius’ not ten minutes ago? What happened to your manners all of a sudden?” Karius frowned.

”I would never disrespect you like that, Sir Karius. Come on — let’s leave before nightfall.” Ravian shook his head firmly and walked ahead, clearing the alley before Karius had even finished speaking.

”Nightfall? The sun just rose.” Karius glanced up at the sky, then back down.

Ravian was already waiting outside the alley entrance.

”What a little schemer,” Karius muttered, smiling as he followed.

He stepped out of the alley intending to inform the City Guards of what had happened before heading to the camp with Ravian. They left the smell of blood and the scattered bodies behind them without looking back.

”Antonius,” Karius called — casually, as if commenting on the weather.

A figure appeared beside them.

Ravian’s attention sharpened immediately. There had been no footsteps. No shift in presence. No sign of approach at all. One moment the space beside him was empty; the next, a figure stood there in complete silence — dressed entirely in black, every inch of skin concealed, a dark hood and mask leaving only the eyes visible.

Ravian instinctively focused. The man looked like the embodiment of an assassin pulled from some older and more dangerous age — quiet, unreadable, and strangely difficult to hold in view despite standing directly in front of him.

”Surprised? Antonius has been following us since the moment we met. I simply never called him out.” Karius glanced at Ravian with amusement.

Ravian let out a quiet breath through his nose.

’This old man is even more troublesome than I gave him credit for. Good thing I didn’t try anything reckless earlier.’

”Guard the area,” Karius ordered.

”Don’t let anyone near the alley until the City Guards arrive. If anyone wakes before they do, put them back to sleep.”

”Understood, my lord.” Antonius gave a slight bow.

Ravian watched him move. Even with Absolute Focus fully active, he couldn’t track the man properly — Antonius’s body blurred for a fraction of a second before dissolving into the shadows without leaving behind the smallest trace.

’That was genuinely impossible to follow.’

If Antonius was truly weaker than Karius, then the gap between Ravian and the upper ranks of this world was even vaster than he had been assuming.

A few minutes later, a carriage rolled to a stop in front of them. Its polished black exterior caught the pale morning light, and the door opened almost at once. An elderly man descended first — looking slightly older than Karius, with neatly combed gray hair, a monocle, and the refined, unhurried bearing of a senior butler born to a noble household. Every movement was precise and well-practiced.

”Welcome back, my lord.” He bowed with measured respect.

”The battalion commander was rather displeased by your sudden departure. He has been asking for you repeatedly.”

”Forget them, George.” Karius climbed in without breaking stride.

”I only went out to kill a little boredom.”

”And it turned out to be more entertaining than expected.” He glanced back at Ravian with a grin.

George blinked. It had genuinely been some time since he had seen Karius smile quite so openly.

He turned his attention to the young man standing outside the carriage. At first glance, Ravian left little impression — pale skin, cheap clothes, the look of someone who had spent his life fighting for the basics. His features were slightly above average at best, and his height, while decent enough, wasn’t the kind that commanded a room.

But George noticed something that didn’t fit.

The boy’s posture was too still. His eyes were focused and unhurried, quietly cataloguing everything around him without a trace of nerves or intimidation. Combined with the long white hair and the composed set of his expression, it gave him an unusual air — something between restraint and dignity that had no business being there given where he had apparently come from.

’Interesting...’

George studied him for another moment.

’No. Unique.’

Ravian met his gaze briefly before looking back toward Karius.

”You really expect me to ride in something this expensive dressed like this?” he said.

”I might lower the carriage’s social standing just by sitting in it.”

”Get in. George doesn’t care about appearances. And you don’t need to test him.” Karius laughed.

George paused.

’Test me?’

Ravian climbed in without explaining himself. In truth, he had already confirmed what he needed to know. George was not simply a servant assigned to Karius by the Imperial Army — the man answered to Karius personally. Which meant Karius held influence that extended well beyond his military position, and that only reinforced what Ravian had already begun to suspect.

”So you’re a noble, Sir Karius?” Once settled across from both men, Ravian spoke.

”Correct. Can you guess the rank?” Karius raised an eyebrow.

”You’re a company commander. Above that are battalion and brigade commanders. But someone with your reach clearly holds noble authority that goes beyond military rank alone.” Ravian leaned back slightly. His eyes settled calmly on Karius.

”A Marquis?”

”Tch. That was fast.” Karius clicked his tongue.

He turned toward the window with visible disappointment.

”How boring.”

George stared at Ravian in silence. The boy had reached the correct answer with frightening speed — and more importantly, he had stated it without hesitation, without second-guessing, as if arriving at the truth were simply the natural conclusion of a process he had no reason to doubt.

’How did someone like this end up in the slums?’ George had encountered talented people before. But Ravian’s mind moved in an unsettling way — each answer immediately becoming the foundation for the next question.

”Hello, Mr. George.”

”Yes?” George straightened slightly.

”I’d like all the information you have on Sir Karius.”

The carriage went silent.

Karius turned slowly away from the window — suddenly interested again — while George looked genuinely taken aback for the first time.

”And why exactly would I share that with you?”

”Because I’m about to become Sir Karius’s disciple?” Ravian tilted his head slightly.

George’s eyes widened.

He looked immediately toward Karius.

Only to find the Marquis himself looking equally caught off guard.

Ravian sighed.

”Come on, Sir Karius. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

Karius narrowed his eyes.

Ravian raised one finger.

”You personally paid for a longsword and a set of armor for me.”

A second finger.

”You brought me into your private carriage.”

A third.

”And you offered to teach me swordsmanship before I’ve even officially enlisted.”

”No commander does all of that for an ordinary recruit.” He gave a light shrug.

George recovered — then almost didn’t.

”Wait — you’re truly going to teach him the swordsmanship of the Dmitri Marquisate?”

The shock was understandable. Countless knights and nobles would have risked a great deal for even a fraction of guidance from Karius, and somehow, a nameless young man from the slums had caught his interest before the day was even over.

Ravian immediately took the opening.

”So it’s the Dmitri Marquisate.” He gave George a small, appreciative clap.

”Thank you for the information. Please, go on.”

”You little—” George nearly choked.

Karius laughed loudly before George could finish, looking openly pleased with himself.

”Now do you understand why I chose him?” He sounded like a man who had found something rare in a place no one else had thought to look.

”Strength can be trained. But a mind like this? That’s something people are born with.”

George looked at Ravian again with a considerably more complicated expression. The boy sat completely at ease — entirely unbothered by the fact that he had just toyed with the head butler of a noble household inside his employer’s own carriage.

’This child is going to cause problems.’

Then George remembered someone waiting back at the camp.

Proud, talented, fiercely competitive, and deeply attached to her position beside Karius.

A headache quietly formed behind his eyes.

’Those two are absolutely not going to get along.’

Outside, the carriage rolled steadily forward through the streets of the City of Light, heading toward the edge of the city where the imperial fortress and the military grounds of the Dmitri Marquisate waited.