The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

Ravian finished putting on the new armor Karius had sent him, then picked up the clearly expensive sword and fastened it to the battle belt that had come with the set.

He went and looked at his reflection in the mirror inside Lysandra’s tent.

A young man with long white hair and calm crimson eyes that held nothing but traces of exhaustion and a hunger to uncover secrets, set beneath straight brows and framed by long white lashes. And yet, with all of that, his features were barely above average—and his build was even worse. You could describe him as nothing more than a new recruit in the army.

”Damn it. Even after all this, I still look as ugly as a donkey,” Ravian said with a frown, studying himself in the mirror.

Even with the armor, the sword, and his distinctive features, he just looked like a skinny armored donkey with distinctive features.

”Pfft.”

Then Ravian heard someone fail to hold back a laugh. He turned and found Lysandra trying to compose her expression.

”What the—why did you come in here? Didn’t I tell you I was changing, miss?!” Ravian shouted quickly, his face going red with embarrassment.

’Did she hear what I just said?!’ His face nearly turned as red as a tomato.

”Ahem. No, I didn’t hear anything at all,” Lysandra said with complete seriousness, having just barely finished laughing.

”At least take your hand away from your mouth while you say that. And you still haven’t answered my question, miss,” Ravian said.

”You mean why I came in even though you said you were changing?” Lysandra asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ravian nodded.

”Well, you were taking a very long time admiring your beautiful face in the mirror, so I came to see what you were doing, and... you know the rest,” Lysandra said, her lips twitching against her will.

’That damned noble girl...’ Ravian thought, his eye twitching in irritation, his own lips trembling.

”Fine, fine—that’s enough. Also, I should say this: you’re not ugly,” Lysandra said, suddenly serious.

”Hmm?” Ravian couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

”Well—you’re not extremely ugly, at least,” she added.

”You—!” Ravian almost spat blood.

”I’m not joking. A man isn’t judged by his appearance. A man is chivalry, courage, pride, strength—and, most important of all,” Lysandra said, emphasizing every word without breaking eye contact.

”he doesn’t run from responsibility.”

Ravian thought she had finished.

Until she went on.

”And I haven’t seen you run from responsibility, Ravian. With the fatal injuries you arrived here with—with the fact that you had never fought a battle before and had only just awakened your soul power—you still didn’t complain even once.” She paused.

”You didn’t run when a spy slipped into your tent to kill you, even though you had no idea how strong he was compared to you. And you didn’t complain when Sir Karius summoned you to the battlefield the moment you woke from sleep.”

”These are the qualities of men. Beauty is only an outer shell that fades sooner or later.”

Lysandra finished, looked at Ravian for another two seconds, then left the tent.

Ravian sat where he was, staring into empty space.

”So I really am so ugly that this noble girl took pity on me and stayed here comforting me, is that it?” Ravian asked the empty air around him.

If Lysandra had heard that, she would have laughed even harder at the way his mind worked.

’You damned system—don’t you have anything that could improve this face a little? I mean, he’s not actually ugly, but I’d much rather be handsome,’ Ravian called out internally.

[That is not within my functions, host. However, many physical changes have already occurred since your soul power awakened, and you will change further still as you complete the Sovereign Pride Physique. As for beauty or ugliness—I see you as being above both, host.]

’Are you flirting with me right now?’ Ravian nearly shouted aloud.

[I do not know what you mean, host.]

It seemed the system didn’t work quite the way Ravian had imagined.

”Ugh. Forget it. I need to go,” Ravian said, glancing around to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

Then he saw them.

The two short swords he had taken from that assassin.

’I almost forgot about you two.’

Ravian had left them there when Lysandra handed him the sword Karius had sent, since it was higher in quality and durability than they were. But now that he thought about it, having a spare weapon on hand wasn’t a bad idea.

So he decided to take one of the two short swords and leave the other behind. He quickly fastened one to his belt, then took the other and hid it beneath the bed in Lysandra’s tent.

”Perfect. A spot no one would ever think to check,” Ravian said with a smile, adjusting his clothes and armor before stepping out.

The moment he emerged, he found Lysandra waiting outside, inspecting her shining sword—which was far more dazzling than his.

’I wonder how much this would sell for?’

The thought drifted through his head for a brief moment.

”Are you finally done?” Lysandra asked, returning her sword to its sheath.

”Yes, I’m ready,” Ravian replied.

”Good. Let’s go,” Lysandra said, and they began moving deeper toward the eastern side of the camp.

With each passing moment, Ravian saw more soldiers running back and forth—carrying the wounded, hauling equipment, transporting food supplies. The whole scene looked like something out of a film about ancient wars, the kind fought by Rome and its like.

He also saw figures with distinctive auras leading groups of others whose auras resembled those of his squad’s elite members—Darius, Kael, and the rest—except these squads had far more than six or seven individuals at that level, and some of them even carried auras at the same level as Malrik’s.

”Those are the Elite Squads. They’re the formation directly above ours,” Lysandra explained, noticing his gaze.

”They have many members at the Ninth Rank—Walker, and even a few at the Eighth Rank—Soul Liberator, like Malrik.”

”They have more than one person at the Eighth Rank?!” Ravian asked, shocked—he had assumed only a squad leader would be at that rank.

”Yes. That’s the case in every Elite Squad. As long as they have more than five members at the Ninth Rank and more than two at the Eighth Rank, then what you’re looking at is an Elite Squad, not a regular one,” Lysandra explained calmly as they moved farther from their camp, walking alongside a large body of soldiers toward the eastern front.

At some point, Ravian began to hear faint sounds in the distance.

They weren’t clear at first—just a kind of rustling. But the closer they came to the slope ahead, the louder the sounds grew, until they became unbearably loud.

And when they reached the high edge overlooking the lowland, Ravian saw them below.

Two massive armies were crashing into one another in the middle of the grassy lowland, erasing anything that stood in their path. The grass had been torn away wherever their feet fell, trees split apart, and rocks shattered under elemental magic and the overwhelming aura of those who walked the Aura Path.

One of the armies seemed almost to shine beneath the sun because of its metal armor, while the other looked far less dazzling by comparison—though their massive bodies made up the difference.

At the rear of the Viera Empire’s army, veteran mages stood beside the catapults, casting elemental spells to crush, burn, and tear apart the opposing front. The other side had catapults as well, but Ravian saw no prominent mages among them. Even so, the battlefield was drowning in blood and the remains of bodies.

From above, they looked like two armies of ants with supernatural abilities tearing into each other—but that was only because Ravian was so far away.

Soon, he noticed a strange feature in the army fighting against them.

”Green?” The word slipped out in shock.

Lysandra smiled at the sight below them.

”Welcome to the battlefield, Ravian.” She looked at him. ”Come. Let’s go greet the orcs.”

Then she suddenly leapt from the edge of the lowland, down toward the battlefield.

”My God. This is pure insanity...” Ravian said, registering what Lysandra had just done.

Then his smile widened.

”But I like it.”

And with that, Ravian slid down after her—straight into the middle of the battlefield, between the crashing waves of blades and spells.