He knows as much. He's seen and felt exactly what the both of them are capable of, even in the weakened states they are all in. He knows, and yet, it's easier to find a quieter explanation than the sudden burst of violence that he knows must have caused this. Decapitation isn't precisely Ignis' usual combat style, from what Ravus has observed.

So, still knelt beside Ardyn's body, Ravus heaves a great sigh, and nods. It's strange really. He's not upset with Ignis per se, not even disappointed. But there is an ache that persists within him. One that doesn't quite mourn, but does recognize the loss of life in what feels like a cold, yawning chasm of unending death. Maybe he's just tired of the people around him dying. Maybe there's something else, but he doesn't sink deeper into that thought.

"I appreciate the honesty," he says after a long moment. "And I would be a hypocrite to say that I don't understand that feeling of seizing the chance. Sometimes, for people like you and me, that's all there is. Consequences be damned." Finally, he turns his head to look fully at Ignis, the blood and sweat on him, and has to know. "Why though? I know you not to be shy of violence for a cause, but what drove this? Surely his usual antics didn't grate your nerves that much... or have I built too much a tolerance to it?"