"Why are you all so surprised?" Viscount Yofilis frowned slightly, the faint scar running along his cheek deepening, like a hairline crack just struck again.
His voice was low and stern, yet carried a trace of puzzlement.
Kirito looked up, tension glinting in his eyes. "Because… from what we know, the Boss of this floor… was supposed to be a «Hippogriff»."
At that, Viscount Yofilis slowly shook his head. His tone sank lower, steady and resolute, allowing no room for doubt:
"I do not know where you obtained such information… but that is not the Guardian of this floor."
He paused briefly, the shadow of his scar stretching deeper under the dim light, then spoke each word with deliberate clarity:
"«Wythege the Hippocampus» that is the true Guardian."
The air in the room froze.
Yofilis continued, his voice resonant and heavy like the toll of an ancient bell. "It is a creature resembling a massive sea horse, its fins capable of whipping up furious whirlpools.
With a single stomp, it can generate shockwaves powerful enough to shake the entire chamber."
He clenched his hand into a fist, then turned sharply toward the group before him. "When facing it, it would be wise to leave some of your people outside the boss room.
With the power of its whirlpools, Wythege can flood the entire chamber in a colossal surge of water. Without preparation… all of you will be swept away."
Asuna's voice trembled as she spoke, thick with worry. "But… the others have already gone inside… and we knew nothing about this, my lord…"
Her stance wavered, fists tightening, as if, given the chance, she would dash into the labyrinth right that instant, no matter the cost.
Viscount Yofilis met her determined gaze and nodded solemnly. His tone was deep, yet laced with a certain resolute warmth.
"I am glad to aid those who defended this fortress."
Suddenly, he rose from his wooden chair. The hem of his black cloak flared as a draft swept through the window.
"Send the order. Gather a unit of elite soldiers. We depart... now."
Ren and the others followed behind the Viscount, joined by several Dark Elf warriors.
Though the brutal battle for the fortress had ended mere hours ago, none of them wore the exhaustion one would expect. Instead, a new kind of fire burned in their eyes, not weariness, but the fierce resolve to fight again.
Fortunately, Yofilis knew well the route leading to the Boss chamber.
Thanks to him, the group swiftly boarded small boats and crossed the pitch-black volcanic lake, where snowflakes melted on contact with the icy surface.
Barely twenty minutes later, they reached the southern entrance of the labyrinth.
A message had already been sent to Argo, and Ren couldn't help but let out a wry chuckle as he read her furious response: a flood of exclamation marks and what looked suspiciously close to swearing at not being informed sooner.
The labyrinth was crawling with monsters, yet under Yofilis's guidance, their advance was like a blade slicing through silk.
The creatures barely had time to roar once or twice before bursting into fragments of light.
The rhythm of clashing steel and synchronized footsteps turned their descent into the maze into something almost unnervingly smooth.
"There it is," Asuna breathed, her voice trembling as her gaze fixed forward.
Right before the enormous Boss chamber doors, the scene that unfolded froze everyone in place.
Bodies lay scattered across the cold stone floor, soaked and trembling. Some coughed violently, water spilling from their mouths and noses as if they'd barely escaped drowning.
And amidst the chaos, a small, familiar figure stood out, Argo, her gray hooded cloak drenched, frantically darting from one wounded player to another, clutching a handful of recovery potions, forcing them into the hands of those still conscious.
The air was thick with noise, groans, the clatter of discarded weapons hitting the floor, and the sharp, panicked cries of the defeated.
As Ren's group and Viscount Yofilis approached, dazed eyes turned toward them, confusion flashing, then recognition, as they spotted familiar faces among the Dark Elf ranks.
The shock lasted only a moment before giving way to an oppressive heaviness. No one spoke. The air was thick with loss and shame.
Ren's fists tightened as he drew closer.
He could see Lind's pale face, lips purpled, eyes hollow as though drained of all life.
Not far away, Kibaou sat slumped on the ground, gripping his head, his expression a mixture of rage and despair so suffocating it seemed to choke the air itself.
"We lost…" Kibaou rasped, his voice shaking, breaking. "We failed… utterly failed…"
Around them, the silence grew heavier. Staggering footsteps, ragged breaths, the dull clang of broken blades hitting stone, each sound bit like salt pressed into a raw wound.
"Five people…" someone muttered in despair. "We lost five people… and still, we were crushed."
Lind raised his head. He said nothing. His deep-blue hair hung wet and limp, veiling half his face.
But in the flicker of light that caught his eyes, the bitter truth was already carved deep.
"It's all the beta testers' fault!" a shrill voice suddenly cried out from the crowd, followed by an uproar of angry shouts and curses, raw with frustration and grief.
"Enough!" Lind suddenly roared, his voice hoarse and fierce like a whip crack. "Stop clinging to that pathetic excuse! We lost… because of our own arrogance. Stop acting like children!"
His sharp gaze swept toward a hooded player, face hidden beneath the shadows.
Lind wasn't even sure whether that person was from his own group or Kibaou's, but it no longer mattered. In defeat, they were all the same.
Kirito stood frozen before the chaos, his hand clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his skin. All sensation faded, leaving behind only a burning sting.
If I had been here… if I'd made it in time…
"Don't."
A soft thud sounded as Ren placed a firm hand on Kirito's shoulder, cutting through the spiral of guilt forming in his mind.
Kirito flinched, breath ragged, as if waking from a nightmare.
Ren met his gaze, steady, understanding, but commanding. He knew instantly that Kirito was about to take the entire burden of failure upon himself again.
"Don't shoulder everything alone. First, we need to understand exactly what happened."
Ren's tone was calm, yet resolute.
"There you are."
A deep voice broke through the haze, grounding them back to reality. Agil approached, his armor and clothes soaked, but his eyes still sharp, free from despair.
His massive hands landed firmly on both Ren's and Kirito's shoulders, then he rubbed his slick, bald head with a weary chuckle.
"I think I can fill you in… on the current situation."
"As you can see," Agil sighed, his gaze sweeping over the drenched, exhausted players scattered before the Boss Room door. "We failed the raid this time."
"The Beta data was completely useless. The Boss flooded the entire chamber with water… we lost five people."
He paused briefly, glancing toward Argo, who was still rushing back and forth handing out recovery potions to the survivors. "If it weren't for the information you sent, Argo wouldn't have reached the gate in time to open it… No one would've made it out."
"I see…" Kirito murmured, rubbing his chin, a spark of calculation flickering in his eyes. "In that case, we could still launch another attempt..."
"No."
Agil cut him off firmly, more decisive than ever. "Not now. Can't you see how broken they are?"
Ren nodded silently. From the moment they arrived, he could tell, this collapse wasn't just physical. Their spirit had been shattered.
From the very first floor until now, the frontliners had never known true defeat.
They were used to winning, to believing that sheer effort could overcome anything. But this time… the Fourth Floor had devoured that belief whole.
Even if they regrouped, even if they gained the aid of the Dark Elf warriors, it would only repeat the same tragedy.
…But what if it's with Viscount Yofilis?
The thought flickered through Ren's mind.
He could almost see the Dark Elf noble's commanding figure, cutting down the beast in a single, clean stroke, as if the fate of this entire floor were nothing but a game to him.
As the air thickened with despair, Viscount Yofilis stood tall. His lone eye swept across the downcast faces before him.
The aura of nobility and strength around him did not waver. When he spoke, his voice echoed like thunder against the labyrinth walls.
"You lower your heads too soon. One defeat, just one, and your resolve as Plaedem already crumbles?"
The murmurs died instantly. Many lifted their heads, instinctively drawn to his piercing gaze.
"Listen well. This land... this floor has never welcomed the weak.
Whether Dark Elf or Forest Elf, whether Plaedem from the world beyond the Veil… only those who face failure, swallow it whole, and rise again have the right to exist here."
His hand rested upon the hilt of his sword. A faint smile crossed the scarred, noble face of a man who once embodied elegance and pride.
"I've seen you fight. You are not cowards. You're merely lost... trapped in your own illusion of strength.
A single monster took five lives… yet it taught you a lesson that a hundred victories never could: arrogance is deadlier than any blade at your throat."
His voice deepened, powerful and rhythmic, like a war drum.
"Mourn for the fallen, but then wipe away your tears. As long as you still breathe, you will fight again.
If you Plaedem truly intend to conquer this tower, then show me... prove that today's failure is but a stepping stone toward tomorrow's victory."
The air ignited. A few players clenched their weapons tighter, their eyes reigniting with faint light.
The whispers grew, then swelled into quiet, rallying cries spreading through the crowd.