The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

Chapter 80: Before It’s Too Late

The echo that struck the capital needed only moments to drown its streets in chaos.

In one of the middle-class districts, a small family sat around a late dinner when the plates suddenly leapt from the table—one of them shattering on the floor—while the windowpanes broke all at once without warning.

The walls trembled, dust rained from the ceiling, and the hanging lamps went out one after another.

"Mom!" a small child screamed, throwing himself into his mother’s arms as the second echo exploded inside his head.

The woman clutched him to her chest and bent over him protectively, while his father rushed to the window and peered through the empty frame where the glass had been only moments earlier.

The streets below had been turned upside down.

Carriages had stopped in the middle of the road, and horses bucked wildly, trying to tear free of their harnesses. People poured out of their homes in their nightclothes—some screaming and demanding to know what was happening, while others ran with no clear destination, driven by a single instinct...

To get away from that thing. Whatever it was.

"Are we under attack?!" the woman asked her husband, panic filling her voice.

The man found nothing to say.

He didn’t know what was happening, but he could see the people at the northern end of the street running in the opposite direction, as though some invisible monster were chasing them.

And every time he looked toward the center of the capital, he felt something pressing down on his chest and forcing his head to lower.

...

In the nobles’ quarter, things were no calmer.

Inside the mansion of one of the viscounts, a late-night banquet was still underway when the crystal chandeliers shook above the guests’ heads and several glasses shattered at the same instant.

The protection circles engraved within the mansion’s walls ignited automatically, covering the windows and doors with a layer of blue light.

The nobles rose from their seats; some moved toward the windows, while others summoned their guards in raised voices.

"Seal the gates!"

"Activate the outer barrier as well!"

"Where is the city guard? What is happening out there?!"

One young noble raised his hand and released his soul energy, trying to sense the source of the presence that had descended upon the capital.

But the moment he extended his perception toward it, the color drained from his face.

Boom!

The young man dropped to one knee, the tiles shattering beneath it, before coughing a gush of blood onto the floor.

"Shut off your soul energy, you fool!" an older man shouted, seizing him by the shoulder to sever his connection to whatever lay outside. "Do not try to sense that thing directly!"

"Wh-what is that?" the young man asked with difficulty, blood dripping from his chin. "What rank could possibly possess pressure like this?"

The older man looked toward the glowing walls. The light covering them had begun to tremble despite how far the mansion stood from the center of the presence.

"I don’t know," he said in a low voice. "I don’t know what that is. But that thing isn’t flaunting its power, and it isn’t directing its pressure at us at all..."

He paused for a moment, then continued as his eyes slowly narrowed.

"We simply happen to be within the range of its presence."

Silence fell among the nobles.

Not one of them dared to release their soul energy again.

...

In another mansion, situated in a quieter part of the nobles’ quarter, an old man stood before a tall window overlooking a broad stretch of the capital.

His red hair was streaked with gray, but its original color remained clear—as did his sharp features and straight-backed posture despite his advanced age.

Had Lysandra been standing beside him, the strange resemblance between them would have been easy to notice.

Behind the old man, one of his servants rushed into the room and knelt with difficulty, for the pressure blanketing the capital made breathing itself a struggle.

"My lord, the protection circles are operating at full power, but we don’t know what caused this. Shall we send the men to investigate?"

The old man didn’t answer at once.

He continued staring in the direction from which the echo had come, his expression darkening with every passing moment.

He, too, could not see what had descended there—but he knew that sending men toward that place would be no investigation.

It would be sending them to their deaths.

"No," the old man said at last, his steady voice doing nothing to hide the gravity of what he felt. "Activate all the barriers and gather everyone in the mansion inside the protected areas. Let no one leave, and send no one toward the center of the pressure."

The servant raised his head, taken aback by the order.

"But, my lord—what about the capital?" the servant asked.

The old man’s hand slowly clenched behind his back.

"A catastrophe has befallen the capital."

...

As for the center of that catastrophe...

There was no longer anyone left who could scream.

Absolute silence reigned inside the tavern.

The building had not entirely collapsed—though perhaps that would have been more merciful to everyone inside it.

The tables and chairs had been crushed beneath the pressure of the presence that had descended upon the tavern, and the wooden floorboards had been driven into the ground beneath them. The walls had cracked, pieces of the ceiling had fallen, and the lamps, cups, and bottles had been ground into powder that mixed with the blood.

No one survived.

The doctors who had been examining the bald man’s corpse were crushed where they stood, and the bodies of the city guardsmen crumpled within their armor and clothing, as though a colossal force had pressed in on them from every direction at the same instant.

The tavern manager died in front of his employees, his facial features all but erased after his head struck the ground.

Deeper inside, within the betting area, the patrons had not been gathered outside for questioning as they had been in the previous loop. They had still been inside when Ravian killed Robert—and now the crowd’s cheering had been cut off in a single instant.

The man in the red suit died, along with every bettor and every worker.

Even the two Rassasians confined within the ring—the bald one and the short-haired one—could not withstand the pressure. Their bones shattered beneath their gray skin, and they collapsed onto the arena floor without ever understanding what had happened.

As for Sophia—the Variable...

She died like the rest.

She never even had the chance to run or scream.

She had left the betting area shortly after Ravian’s departure, but she hadn’t gotten far before the Descent manifested. The pressure crushed her in the corridor leading to the bar, and her small body fell among the remains of the tables, her eyes still open in shock.

Everyone died.

Except for one person.

’Move.’

Ravian tried to push his feet backward and wrench his hands away from Robert’s corpse.

But his body did not respond.

’Move!’ Ravian continued screaming within himself.

His body still did not respond. Not even a single finger twitched.

He remained standing before Robert, the black dagger buried in the detective’s chest up to the hilt, right where his heart had been.

Ravian tried to release the dagger.

He couldn’t.

He tried to move his legs, turn his head, or even shift his gaze away from the dead face before him.

Nothing.

His body remained fixed like a statue, while his mind alone raced at an insane speed.

He knew a catastrophe was descending upon this place. He had seen the System’s notification—and though he hadn’t fully understood it, he had grasped the general idea.

And he had watched the people around him be crushed into pulp for no reason at all. He had seen the despair in their eyes during those brief moments as they sensed what was coming for them.

And he had simply remained standing in place.

[System Advice:]

[Kill yourself.]

’I’m trying!’

Ravian didn’t even know how he was supposed to do that. In his current state, he was nothing more than a statue.

Another notification appeared before his eyes before the first had even vanished.

[Warning!]

[The Host is advised to end his life as quickly as possible.]

[Immediately—before it is too late.]

Unfortunately, it seemed it was already too late.

Creeeck...