The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

Ravian couldn’t blame those present for looking at him that way.

According to Robert, an unknown young man had appeared inside the capital out of nowhere—his name absent from the gate records, with no guard remembering seeing him—and then, mere hours later, he had been found inside a tavern where a man died near him under mysterious circumstances.

Even Ravian would have suspected himself had he been in their place.

But he allowed none of that to show on his face.

He remained seated, leaning comfortably against the back of his chair as his eyes moved slowly between Robert and Earl Patrick, as though he weren’t the target of every suspicion in the room.

”That’s an interesting deduction, Detective, sir,” Ravian said at last.

”A deduction?” Robert raised an eyebrow slightly.

”You said you couldn’t find my name or description in the gate records, then immediately declared that I never entered through any official gate.” Ravian tilted his head slightly. ”A missing record proves that a record is missing—not that there was never anyone to record in the first place.”

Robert continued watching him in silence, while Ravian calmly met his gaze.

The worry in Larette’s eyes eased slightly, as though Ravian’s answer sounded reasonable enough to grant him another chance.

Earl Patrick tapped one finger against the surface of his desk.

Ravian knew the possibility he had just suggested was absurdly unlikely, but he had no better argument—and Robert could neither disprove nor completely dismiss it.

”Are the gate records infallible?” Patrick asked, looking at Robert.

His tone wasn’t defensive, but he made no effort to hide his skepticism regarding how the detective had reached his conclusion.

”No, my lord,” Robert answered. ”Which is why we didn’t rely on the records alone. My men spoke with every guard who was on duty, and they reviewed the caravans, wagons, and groups that entered that day.”

”Do you expect every guard to remember the face of every person who entered the capital?” Ravian interjected before Patrick could respond. ”If their memories were that reliable, they wouldn’t need ledgers in the first place.”

Robert turned toward him. His expression remained calm, and the small smile on his lips hadn’t faded.

”A young man with long white hair and crimson eyes is difficult to forget,” Robert said.

”I’m flattered,” Ravian replied.

”I don’t think that was a compliment,” the younger detective said.

”I’ll take it as one anyway,” Ravian answered calmly, without so much as glancing at him.

The younger detective’s hand stopped over his notebook as he shot Ravian a look that made no attempt to conceal his irritation.

But Ravian didn’t look at him. His attention remained fixed entirely on Robert.

He knew the detective was trying to push him toward a clear answer. Ravian didn’t know why, but he made a point of refusing to give him one regardless. Nor was he lying about anything he said; he was merely rearranging the facts and directing everyone toward the gaps he wanted them to see.

”You told me you arrived in the capital yesterday,” Robert said.

”And that’s true,” Ravian replied.

Nothing happened.

”You also told me that your name is Rayan Veyr.”

”That is the name I’ve used to introduce myself to everyone who needed to know it,” Ravian said, never breaking eye contact with Robert.

The answer wasn’t an admission that it was his real name—but it wasn’t a lie either.

Robert’s eyes narrowed slightly.

”Did you use another name when you entered the capital?”

’Clever—but not clever enough this time.’

A faint smile appeared on Ravian’s face.

”If I had used another name, would you expect me to hand it to the detective searching for it?” Ravian asked with the same smile.

”You haven’t answered the question,” Robert said, staring at him as his eyes began to grow cold.

”Nor did I refuse to answer. I’m simply showing you how useful the answer would be,” Ravian clarified, though he had already planned what he would say next.

”You’re playing with words,” Shmichael interjected, his mustache bristling slightly as his mouth tightened.

Ravian looked at him.

”I answer as much as the questions allow.”

”No—you answer everything except what he’s actually asking you,” Shmichael said.

’You’re awfully worried, aren’t you? Then again, you’re the one who introduced me to the earl.’

Ravian watched Shmichael for a moment before returning his attention to Robert.

”No, then. I didn’t use another name when I entered the capital. Does that satisfy the curiosity of you mustachioed pair?” Ravian said at last.

Robert continued staring at him, his eyes widening slightly at Ravian’s direct answer as though he hadn’t expected it at all.

’Why is he so surprised?’

Ravian didn’t understand.

Shmichael’s face twitched, and he nearly fired back at Ravian’s mockery, but Earl Patrick’s voice stopped them both.

”Enough.”

Silence returned to the room.

”Did you lie when you said you arrived in the capital yesterday?” Patrick asked, fixing his dark-blue eyes on Ravian.

”No,” Ravian answered immediately.

It was a completely honest answer.

He truly had arrived in the capital yesterday, even if the way he had entered was entirely different from anything those present imagined.

”Then where is the problem?” the earl asked, directing his words at Robert. ”My guest says he arrived yesterday, and all you possess is the absence of his name from a ledger.”

Ravian felt the balance in the room beginning to tilt in the direction he wanted.

He didn’t need to convince Patrick of his innocence. He only needed to make the earl see that Robert had entered his mansion and begun accusing his guest based on a deduction he couldn’t prove.

For a man of the earl’s standing, that was enough to stir his displeasure with Robert.

Contrary to Ravian’s expectations, however, Robert didn’t back down.

”The problem, my lord, is that Mr. Rayan hasn’t denied my deduction.”

Ravian’s smile faded slightly.

”Since I told him what we found, he hasn’t once said our records are wrong. He hasn’t denied killing the man at the tavern, hasn’t said that a guard saw him, hasn’t named the gate he entered through—he hasn’t even said that he passed through one of the official gates,” Robert continued, his eyes settling on Ravian.

”He has talked a great deal, but he has avoided one simple sentence.”

Ravian remained silent for a moment.

’Annoying. And the problem is, I don’t know exactly what he’s fishing for.’

Ravian clenched his jaw.

Robert wasn’t fooled by the evasions—but neither could he prove that they concealed a crime.

”My unwillingness to give you the details of my movements doesn’t make your accusations true,” Ravian said calmly.

”Nor does it make them false,” Robert replied.

”Then we’re going in circles.”

”Which is why I’ll ask you a direct question.”

Once again, Robert shifted his approach.

He removed the pipe from his mouth and held it between two fingers without taking his eyes off Ravian.

”Through which gate did you enter the capital?” Robert asked, his gaze never leaving Ravian for even a moment.

”The gate on the City of Light side,” Ravian answered—directly once again.

Robert’s expression didn’t change, but his brows knitted slightly.

’Why does he keep looking surprised?’

Something was happening, but Ravian couldn’t put his finger on it.

”I want the name of the gate itself,” Robert said, refusing to relent.

”I don’t remember its name.”

”You don’t remember the name of the gate through which you entered the capital?”

”My memory is good, but only to a certain extent. I’ll let you know later if I happen to remember it,” Ravian answered simply.

The younger detective knitted his brows and opened his mouth, only to close it again when Robert raised a hand.

Robert continued watching Ravian for several seconds, as though the previous answers had closed off several paths before him—yet had also confirmed something he hadn’t shared with anyone else.

”Fine. I won’t ask you for the gate’s name,” Robert said suddenly.

A faint flicker of wariness appeared in Ravian’s eyes. Robert’s tone was far too calm for his liking.

’What now?’

”I’ll make it a question that requires no name and no explanation,” Robert continued. ”And I’ll ask you for nothing more than a yes or no.”

Robert steadied the pipe between his fingers, then raised his eyes until they met Ravian’s directly.

At that moment, Ravian felt something faint pass through him.

It wasn’t the pressure of soul energy, mana, or a hostile aura. It felt closer to a weak vibration in the air, disappearing before he could even confirm it had existed.

Yet whatever it was felt terrifying.

Ravian couldn’t understand why, but it carried something overwhelming. He couldn’t determine where it had come from, yet it shook his very being.

’What was that?’

Ravian’s heart began beating faster.

”Did you enter the capital yesterday through one of its official gates?” Robert asked, and Ravian thought he saw the trace of a faint smile forming on the detective’s lips.