No.
Olivas came to that conclusion.
Back in the nightmare on the Twenty-Seventh Floor, even [Braver] Finn had failed to stop his scheme.
The more wicked a person was, the better they were at weaving plots.
Those who shouted about justice and goodness were usually just like the [Gale] before him—their thoughts easy to predict.
And yet now, the one being seen through was him.
"Who exactly are you?!"
His attempts at misdirection were useless. His traps were destroyed with ease. Even his feints ended up restricting his own movements.
Olivas's brute strength should have given him the upper hand.
Yet with the boy's interference, Gale continued her suppression without a scratch.
"Ryuu-san, there's something unusual on the ground ten meters to your left. Don't let him lure you over there."
No.
In the middle of such a fierce battle, how did he even notice that?!
"Olivas might deflect magic bombardments like that red-haired woman. Leave the cover to me."
No.
How did he remember information from so long ago?!
"Lefiya, keep an eye on the Violas and the Jewel."
"Filvis, watch the flower buds on the walls. The moment a monster is born, start chanting Magic."
No.
No...
Fear. Anger.
The Elves should have been overwhelmed by their emotions. That should have made them easy to read, easy to exploit.
So why, under the boy's direction, were they all moving in perfect sync?!
Pawns?
Familia?
Comrades?
No.
What was it?
There was something between them—something he couldn't understand, binding them together.
He forced down his anger. Forced his trembling to stop.
Firebolt and the Wooden Blade meshed together seamlessly.
Olivas couldn't comprehend it. How could they coordinate to this extent?!
He was steadily driven back, caught in an endless cycle of injury, regeneration, and pain.
"Don't get carried away, damn you!! Violas!"
Olivas roared.
A red glow flickered. The quartz pillars rumbled as if roots were being ripped free.
The gigantic carnivorous plant parasitizing the Pantry's core began to sway and writhe.
Its brilliantly colored blossom burst open, releasing a wave of nauseating stench.
Amid that thick, corpse-like reek, the massive Viola began to fall.
"It's coming?!"
Lefiya shouted a warning.
That enormous, heavy body was like a collapsing wall. If it struck them head-on, the outcome would be catastrophic.
As if he had anticipated this, Bell immediately called out the countermeasure.
"Get in a straight line with Olivas!"
Lefiya and Filvis instantly understood his intent.
Instead of scattering in panic, they moved without hesitation.
"Tch?!"
Under Olivas's furious glare, the Viola avoided them and crashed into empty ground.
A deafening boom erupted as the green flesh wall along the floor was smashed to pieces.
"Violas, deal with those two Elves!"
Olivas, his body riddled with wounds as he fended off the Wooden Blade, barked out a new command.
The monster's size far surpassed that of a Floor Boss, yet it couldn't even lift its flower head.
Its massive body pressed against the ground, bending backward like a drawn longbow as it slowly gathered force with ponderous effort.
"Run to Olivas's rear flank!"
Using Vendetta as a shield point, Bell indicated the new position.
The serpent-like body suddenly snapped forward, about to strike Lefiya and Filvis—only to halt abruptly.
If it tried to hit the two elf girls, Olivas would be crushed into pulp first.
No.
No...
Olivas ground his teeth in fury.
What exactly was this boy?
A vanguard?
A rear guard?
A Mage?
An Adventurer?
No. That wasn't it.
He was both the commander and the soldier charging at the front.
Both the one moving the pieces and the piece stepping onto the board himself.
Olivas couldn't see through him. Couldn't guess what cards he still held.
The only thing he understood was this—
Under the command of that white-haired boy, the elf girls were fighting with the coordination of a full-scale Floor Boss subjugation.
No mistakes. No wasted words.
It was as if every step had already been calculated by the boy.
Steam rose from Olivas's body in curling wisps.
The cycle of injury and regeneration accelerated.
"Keep the pressure on. Hold him in place. Make Olivas the giant Viola's first target. His healing speed is slowing."
Bell's voice was completely devoid of emotion.
What most people didn't realize was that, compared to being an Adventurer, the boy was even more suited to being a commander.
He missed no detail. Overlooked no risk.
Every decision was swift and precise.
He never faltered, no matter what changed on the battlefield.
Bell's words crushed what little composure Olivas had left.
Magic power was finite.
Wounds would not keep healing forever.
Olivas completely lost his margin for error.
Firebolt flashed, followed by a torrential storm of slashes.
Two fresh wounds split open across Olivas's arm.
He pulled his lips back in a twisted grin and sneered.
"[Gale], are you the only one left of the Astraea Familia? Did the whole group get wiped out? Is that why you joined another Familia?"
"...."
The only reply he received was an unbroken barrage of fierce strikes.
No.
I've trampled her this far.
Where's that [Justice] she used to preach?!
Before, all it took was a bit of bait to hook these so-called champions of justice.
Just like during the nightmare on the Twenty-Seventh Floor. As long as I avoided the high-level Familias and spread a few rumors, it was enough to create a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
What changed about [Gale]?!
"You, the black-haired Elf over there. Your companions must have died miserably, huh? I'd love to see the expressions on their faces at the end!"
Olivas shifted his target.
He needed an opening.
If he could just break free from this coordination between the Wooden Blade and Firebolt and get back to the quartz pillar—
Then he could command the giant Viola without restraint and crush everyone present.
Get angry.
Lose control.
Hurry up and fire that Magic that knocked down the Viola earlier.
This sturdy body would take it head-on, redirect it, and create the chance he needed to escape.
But Filvis only glanced at the boy before suppressing the blazing fury in her eyes.
No.
Why did her anger fade so easily?!
What about your comrades?
What about the tragedy?
The very thing you were most proud of was taken from you—so why can you still hold back your hatred?
What did that boy do?!
"Tch."
Veins bulged on Olivas's forehead as he shot a vicious glare at Lefiya.
"Mm..."
The golden-haired elf hugged her staff close, calmly observing the giant Viola's movements and simply ignoring his gaze.
The fear was gone.
Inside that slender body, there was only courage and trust.
No.
The word echoed again and again in Olivas's mind.
Faced with provocation and manipulation, the elf girls said nothing. The boy gave no reminders.
And yet they overcame fear and anger, unwaveringly following his commands.
It wasn't fanaticism.
It wasn't loyalty.
It was something Olivas could not comprehend at all.
"What are you?!"
"What are you people?!!!!"
Blades continued to dance. Firebolt flared again and again.
Olivas fell completely into madness.