The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

This time, Ravian and Karius didn’t run into Malrik at the gate. They simply entered, and Karius headed toward the massive building at the center of the camp while Ravian and Antonius set off in the same direction Ravian had taken before, toward the Death Squad’s section.

And sure enough—

After a few minutes, they had nearly reached the Death Squad’s tents.

At that point, Ravian spoke up.

”Sir Antonius, may I ask you a question?” he said.

”Hmm? Go ahead,” Antonius answered calmly, toying with the dagger at his waist.

”What’s the deal with this ’Elite’ title? I heard a few people mention it on the way here,” Ravian said with innocent curiosity.

”Really? That’s strange. I didn’t hear anything,” Antonius said with a smile as he glanced at Ravian.

And though Ravian couldn’t see that smile behind the mask, he could still hear the mockery in his tone.

”Ahem—well, that’s obvious. You were busy playing with your dagger the whole time. But plenty of people were shouting back and forth that they wanted to become Elite Recruits one day, things like that,” Ravian said, breaking eye contact, half afraid the man might read the lie in his eyes.

But Antonius didn’t much care.

”Well, I can tell you this much, since you’ll learn it soon enough anyway.” Antonius nodded, lifted his hand from the dagger, and began ordering his thoughts to make the explanation easier.

”Soldiers in every army hold a rank that reflects their standing and strength, Ravian.”

”Each person is assigned a specific rank based on their strength, their wisdom, and whether or not they’ve awakened their soul power—just like you,” he began, jutting his chin toward Ravian.

”First come the ordinary soldiers. They cook, clean, haul supplies and heavy equipment, handle construction work, and a great deal more. Most of the time, they’re unawakened, with no real edge to speak of, and naturally, the heaviest losses always fall on their side, since they’re the most numerous in any army,” Antonius explained without slowing his pace, the two of them drawing ever closer to the tents.

”After them come the recruits. They’re the most important on the battlefield, because their numbers aren’t small and their strength is nothing to dismiss. Most of them are Awakened like you, or people with high combat ability and experience, and any one of them can handle a fistful of ordinary soldiers,” he went on from behind his mask, never lifting his eyes from the camp ahead.

”Then there are the Elite Recruits—the ones you were asking about. As the name makes plain, they’re elites even among recruits. Most are Ninth-Rank Walkers.”

”Their strength is beyond description, and they’ve already begun to command their soul power. At that rank, they choose their path. Those who take up Aura wield blades colder and sharper than anything you’ve likely seen in your life, and their fists can bend iron and shatter stone with ease. Others walk the path of Magic—like the healer girl I’m taking you to now,” Antonius said, nearly through with his explanation.

”Above them come the Squad Leader, the Elite Squad Leader, the Platoon Commander, and beyond that the Company Commander—like Sir Karius—and more still. But you’ll have to discover those for yourself. If you stay alive, of course,” he finished calmly, as if the matter had nothing to do with him. And in truth, it didn’t.

”Ouch. Was that last part really necessary?” Ravian said as he digested the flood of information that had just been dumped on him.

’So is Malrik the leader of a regular squad, or an elite one?’ Ravian asked himself, but he came up with no answer, so he decided to ask later—they’d already reached the squad.

As before, the seven stood out from everyone around them, with Malrik added to their number this time.

Darius had the largest build of them all, a broadsword resting at his side, scars crisscrossing his muscular arms, his short brown hair damp with sweat—he’d clearly just finished training. Beside him sat Malrik, who seemed to be the oldest of the group, with blond hair and green eyes. He lounged comfortably, and propped beside him was a battle-axe Ravian was seeing for the first time.

’So he fights with an axe? A genuinely rare choice,’ Ravian thought, studying him.

Not far off sat the two remaining men among the seven: Kael, with his dagger, his eyebrow scar, and his short black hair, and Elias, with his armor, his sword, his soft brown hair, and his handsome features. The two were bickering under their breath, Kael fixing Elias with a deadly stare while Elias met it calmly with a gentle smile—which only stoked Kael’s irritation further.

But Ravian was no longer watching them. His gaze had shifted to the one he most wanted to see again—not out of longing, but out of caution.

Lysandra—crimson hair, those distinctive amber eyes, and a calm, regal bearing cold enough to feel like ice—sat beside Evelyne, whose beautiful black hair framed green eyes of her own. Across from them sat Claria, with her chestnut hair and her kind face. Claria did most of the talking, while Evelyne traded a few words here and there, and Lysandra simply sat and listened, showing little reaction.

Ravian felt his blood begin to boil the moment he saw her.

’I can’t very well kill her right now, in front of everyone, can I? That would be pure suicide,’ Ravian thought, his eyes taking on a dangerous edge as his fingers cracked from the force of his clenched fists.

Antonius caught the killing intent at once and snapped his head back toward Ravian.

But what he saw shocked him even more.

Ravian was no longer giving off any killing intent at all—it had vanished the instant it was sensed, so completely that for a moment Antonius wondered if he’d imagined it. He quickly dismissed the idea, though. That killing intent had been unmistakable.

Antonius was certain now that Ravian held a deep grudge against someone here—and, well... that wasn’t good in any way.

”Ravian?” Antonius called.

Ravian turned to him with perfect calm and composure.

”Yes, Sir Antonius—do you need something?” he asked politely, hurrying to stand at his side.

”No. But let me say this. There’s no one here you could face, let alone harm. Is that clear? And I don’t imagine Sir Karius would be pleased with either outcome,” Antonius said, looking deep into Ravian’s eyes.

Ravian’s body shivered for a moment under that gaze. Antonius’s eyes had looked utterly lifeless just then—but what unsettled him most was knowing the man was right. He was the weakest and least experienced person here. He might be stronger than ordinary soldiers, but none of them were present at the moment. Everyone seated around the fire now was a recruit or above.

Just then, Malrik noticed them and sprang to his feet the instant he laid eyes on Antonius.

Who didn’t recognize Dmitri’s Shadow?

”Sir Antonius—what brings you here? Is there a special mission for us?” Malrik asked as he came over, casting a few curious glances Ravian’s way.

”No, there’s no mission for you at present. I’m only here to deliver a message from Sir Karius,” Antonius said calmly, his eyes sweeping over everyone in the area—and noting no strange looks directed at Ravian.

’So the problem only runs one way, hm?’ Antonius surmised, glancing at Ravian from the corner of his eye.

”A message from Sir Karius?! What is it?” Malrik was caught off guard.

It was rare for a Company Commander to communicate directly with one of his Squad Leaders; most of the time, one of the Platoon Commanders under him would come to pass down orders. But it seemed this time the matter wasn’t a simple one—or so Malrik thought.

”The matter is simple. The message reads: This weak bastard with the white hair and crimson eyes is called Ravian. He is a human fox in every sense of the word. I have no proof of his cunning, but that alone already tells me plenty.”

”Don’t worry, though—I’ve confirmed he’s harmless so long as you don’t provoke him, and I’ll leave him in your care for the time being. I accept no objections and no questions. Oh—and he’s my disciple, by the way, so don’t underestimate him.” Antonius drew a sheet of white paper from his pocket, mimicked Karius’s voice, and read the message aloud to them.

”What the hell?! When did he even give you that message?” Ravian said, floored by what he’d just heard.

’And what does he mean, ”human fox,” by the Creator? That old man really has lost his mind—because I’m certain he doesn’t know much of anything about me, which means this is purely a gut feeling of his. What a frighteningly sharp old man,’ Ravian thought, recalling his conversation with Karius in the carriage and everything up to their arrival.

But then Ravian realized Antonius hadn’t responded, so he surfaced from the sea of his thoughts and looked back toward the same spot, only—

Antonius had already vanished. His task complete, he’d disappeared as he always did.

”Hmm. So you’re Ravian?” Ravian soon heard a familiar, soft female voice directly behind him, and when he turned, he found her.

A girl almost his own height, even after his awakening, with smooth crimson hair partly gathered into a ponytail. She had amber eyes and a beautiful, calm face that Ravian found almost irritating. She wore medium-weight metal armor covering her most vital areas, and at her waist hung a long, royal sword that only added to her air of pride and dignity.

And it seemed she’d come to make a declaration... again.

’Here we go...’ Ravian thought as he met her gaze.