The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

In the palace’s main hall, a heavy silence settled over the entire chamber, enveloping the six people present—as well as an entity of unknown origin, lineage, or even race, the very cause of the oppressive silence gripping the place.

It had just claimed the soul of one of the participants—Number Seven—after her accusation was proven false.

Talia’s body now lay on the floor in her beautiful white dress, like a princess poisoned on her wedding night. Yet the fear of death remained etched across her face; her eyes were half-open, and the tears trailing down her cheeks were already beginning to dry.

It seemed that despite their spiritual bodies, most bodily functions continued to operate normally.

Ravian remained kneeling beside Talia’s body for several more seconds after the Mirage Mist had taken her soul, while the main hall remained submerged in a silence no one dared to break.

Talia’s fingers were still curled slightly around Ravian’s jacket, as though she had not completely let go of it even after her death.

Ravian reached out and gently closed her eyes, his expression now so strangely composed that, to everyone watching, he resembled an emotionless doll.

Only then did a soft laugh rise from the other side of the table.

Ravian raised his head and looked toward the source of the sound.

The Nightmare stood where it had been, watching him with wide eyes and a smile brimming with pleasure it made no attempt to conceal.

”Very touching,” the Nightmare said. ”If I did not know what lay inside all your hearts merely by looking at your faces, I might have believed that grief of yours.”

Ravian did not reply.

He was not certain what this entity could truly read, but he saw no benefit in testing it now, so he simply let it say whatever it pleased.

The Nightmare swept its gaze across the six remaining participants.

”One of you has killed two people, while another killed herself with a foolish accusation. If you continue at this rate, the killer will hardly need to make any effort.”

”In fact, you are the first group to lose three people in only two days without finding even a single clue that could lead you to the killer. I believe that is something worth celebrating, since you are the first to accomplish it,” the Nightmare said, its mouth widening in blatant mockery while its eyes narrowed, creating the most venomous expression Ravian had ever seen in his life.

Garrick frowned, while Mirai remained rigid in place, silently watching what was happening as her eyes drifted down to Talia every few seconds before turning away again.

As for Sylvan, he had not raised his head since Talia died.

Black mist stirred beneath her body, then slowly swallowed it. Her corpse vanished from before Ravian, and the last traces of the mist disappeared with it.

A victim’s body was sometimes left behind after death to give the participants a chance to investigate the method of death or the means of communication before the spiritual body was swallowed. This time, however, the victim had not been killed by the Killer’s nighttime ability, leaving no method of murder for the others to investigate, so there was no real benefit in leaving the corpse behind.

The Mirage Mist then manifested before them all with a new announcement, marking an end and a new beginning.

{The trial has ended.}

{Day Three continues.}

{Remaining participants: Six.}

Then another message appeared, one they were seeing for the first time.

{Warning!}

{The Killer is still present.}

{The Mage remains alive among you.}

The Nightmare’s body began to rise from the floor.

”Try to learn something from her death,” it said as it ascended toward the darkness stretching above the main hall. ”It would be a shame if you all died because of your own stupidity rather than at the killer’s hands. That would not entertain me nearly enough.”

Its body disappeared into the ceiling as though it had never existed in the first place.

No one moved or dared to speak for several seconds.

Ravian, however, was thinking about something else entirely.

’He said we were the first group to have three people die in only two days... Just like that, he revealed that we were not the first—and likely not even the second—group of participants to be put through something like this.’

Ravian thought with intense focus, searching for a missing piece that might simplify everything still to come.

Nothing so far proved that the Nightmare was telling the truth. It might simply kill them all in the end, leaving no survivors even if one of them won, and nothing guaranteed that any of them would make it out alive. Even so, they were forced to act according to its rules simply because they had been cut off from their spiritual powers.

Ravian had even temporarily lost contact with Sovereign Pride, which only deepened his concern because, in the worst-case scenario, it could mean that he had also been severed from his ability to regress. That left him facing as much danger as everyone else here—more, in fact, because his role required him to face them all.

And yet, Ravian had neither despaired, backed down, nor hesitated since the very first night.

What if he was alone?

What if he stood alone against eight people without his powers?

What if an almost immortal Mage stood among them, capable of protecting themselves from the only ability he still possessed—the ability to kill?

Despite all of that... Ravian had not believed for even a moment that he would lose.

He would be the one to win in the end, and he was waiting to see who among them was worthy of standing against him.

After all, this group was not facing an ordinary person.

This unfortunate group of participants was now facing the Heir of Pride.

The heir to Sovereign Pride remained its heir even when stripped of every last one of his powers.