[You have received encouragement from a legendary warrior.]
[Your HP has slightly increased.]
[Your Defense has slightly increased.]
[Your Attack Power has slightly increased.]
[All recovery effects will last 30 seconds longer.]
[Duration: 30 minutes]
Right after Viscount Yofilis's stirring speech, a cascade of notifications appeared before the eyes of every player present.
Ren swallowed hard as he watched his health bar extend, increasing by more than a hundred HP.
"Incredible… was it like this during the fortress defense, too?" he muttered to Kirito, eyes still fixed on the newly boosted stats.
"It was even stronger back then," Kirito replied quietly, his tone carrying the weight of a memory carved deep into his bones.
The clinking of weapons echoed through the hall. At first, it was only a few players tightening their grips on sword hilts or using their spears to steady themselves as they rose.
But then, like a spreading wave, one by one, they too began to stand, lifting their weapons before them, bodies slightly bowed.
Torchlight reflected off cold steel, casting trembling yet resolute streaks of light across the corridor.
In that instant, the very group that had just suffered a crushing defeat rose again in unison, their synchronized movements forming an unspoken ritual of defiance.
No one had given the signal, yet every player silently declared the same truth: they still had the will to step once more into the hell called Aincrad.
Ren glanced toward Asuna, her eyes were bright again, glimmering beneath the mist rising from her drenched armor.
"This time, we'll make it," Agil murmured beside him. He gave Ren a brief nod before returning to his own squad.
Kibaou still sat hunched over, both hands gripping his cactus-like hair.
But when the notifications appeared before his eyes and the sound of weapons filled the corridor outside the Boss Room, his body trembled.
The fury, despair, and bitterness in his eyes lifted toward those now standing.
His heart was still tangled with words of blame, but somehow, those glowing words, [Encouragement from a legendery warrior], pierced deep into his chest, reigniting a flame that had nearly been extinguished.
Kibaou bit his lip until blood welled up, then stood, his trembling hand gripping the coarse sword handle.
As for Lind, he sat motionless for a long while, dark green hair dripping slowly onto the floor.
His weary eyes followed the back of Viscount Yofilis... a Dark Elf, a stranger, yet one who had brought a kind of strength that humans could not grant each other in moments like this.
A lump rose in Lind's throat, shame mingled with renewed determination.
He stood, slowly but firmly.
Steel hissed as he drew his sword; the blade caught the firelight. He said nothing... but that act alone sent a jolt through the crowd. They saw it, the leader they had lost was standing again.
All eyes turned to Viscount Yofilis.
He smiled faintly, a calm, composed smile that carried such gravity it seemed to still the air itself.
His hand rested upon the hilt of his slender sword. With deliberate grace, he drew it from its sheath.
The metallic note rang long and low, echoing through the corridor heavy with damp and lingering smoke.
Yofilis raised the blade before him; the steel gleamed, reflecting the torchlight upon his scarred yet steadfast face.
Then, without another word, he turned his wrist, the tip of his sword leveled at the massive black door ahead, where the beast awaited.
In that moment, everyone's heartbeat synchronized, as if they had received a divine signal. Then came the roar.
"UOOOOHHHH!!!"
The entire corridor erupted as every player lifted their weapon and charged forward.
The ground trembled beneath pounding boots; steel clashed and clattered; shouts fused into a single, surging current of determination, a living tide surging toward death and glory.
Ren narrowed his eyes, his chest pounding with the rhythm of battle, blood burning in his veins.
He tightened his grip on Windslash; the blade hummed softly, as if answering its wielder's resolve.
His steps joined the flow of bodies surging ahead. There was no longer front or rear, no leader or follower, only one blazing flame of shared will.
As the massive doors of the Boss Room closed behind them, the world within swallowed them whole.
A soft blue glow bathed everything in light.
Ren looked up, eyes widening, the ceiling was made of glass, arched like a colossal dome, beyond which stretched an endless ocean.
Waves of refracted light shimmered across the walls, turning the entire chamber into a magnificent, yet eerily empty underwater cathedral.
No fish. No seaweed. Only stillness, the kind that carried death.
At the center waited Wythege the Hippocampus, its massive form gliding with unnatural grace, eyes glowing a deep, abyssal blue that seemed to pull the soul into its depths.
Water dripped from its mane, each droplet striking the stone floor with a soft tack… tack… a quiet herald of the fury to come.
Ren drew a long breath. Beside him stood Kizmel, posture upright, hand resting on her sword hilt, long ears twitching slightly as if listening to every shift in the air.
Behind them, Kirito and Asuna stepped into formation, eyes burning with the same fire they had carried into every dungeon before.
Then, the command came. A short, sharp order from Viscount Yofilis, and the battle began.
Under the viscount's masterful command and in perfect coordination with the elite Dark Elf warriors, the fight unfolded like the opening movement of a grand symphony.
Arrows, sword skills, and strikes rained down upon the colossal sea beast in relentless waves, giving it no chance to breathe.
After barely twenty minutes, the monster was driven to the edge of the chamber, its massive HP bar reduced to three segments out of seven.
Ren pressed his lips together, sweat streaming down his forehead, yet excitement still surged within him.
Wythege was powerful, but not invincible. It didn't have the hardened armor of the two-headed turtle from before; every slash from Windslash carved a visible wound across its body.
The frontlines tightened their encirclement around the boss.
The tanks raised their heavy shields like walls of steel, their steps pounding firmly against the floor, leaving no gap for the Hippocampus to escape through.
The colossal creature roared, its watery hooves crashing against the ground, unleashing violent shockwaves that surged forward.
The waves slammed into the vanguard as if to sweep them away, but the sheer weight of their shields and armor became anchors that held them steady.
They could barely move quickly... but in return, they possessed unshakable resistance against the monster's knockback force.
"Assault team, now's your moment!" The commanding voice of Viscount Yofilis echoed like a war horn.
Instantly, the tanks stepped back several paces, opening narrow gaps perfectly aligned within the ring of steel.
Like a stream finding its course, the damage dealers surged forward, weapons gleaming in their hands, shining with auras of every color.
Ren joined the rush.
He was fast... very fast, but he still yielded the front position to Kizmel.
The Dark Elf knight dashed forth like an arrow loosed from a bow; her speed and precision surpassed everyone else's, leaving Ren silently trailing just behind, waiting for his moment.
From Kizmel's sword burst a pale violet aura, flowing with each swing so fast the naked eye could barely follow.
The trails of light seemed pinned in midair, linking together into a massive triangular sigil that enveloped the Hippocampus's enormous form.
In an instant, the glowing triangle snapped tight.
Three slashes from three different angles intersected, tearing through the creature's pale hide, leaving behind three gashes deep and raw.
Its third HP bar instantly dropped by one-third, and Wythege the Hippocampus let out a deafening roar that rattled eardrums.
Its body convulsed violently, stumbling backward as torrents of water cascaded from the domed ceiling like a raging storm.
But before it could recover, another wave of attacks struck.
A flurry of basic sword skills rained down like a storm, dozens of swords, spears, axes, and daggers weaving in brilliant overlapping arcs, burning through the third HP bar in moments.
The monster shrieked, its massive frame twisting and writhing, then summoned whirlpool pillars three times in succession.
Water from all directions surged upward, spiraling into deadly lances that shot toward the players.
But everything unfolded just as Viscount Yofilis had anticipated. He had studied the creature's movement patterns carefully, and almost the moment its body trembled, his commanding voice rang out, issuing precise orders for evasion.
Under his leadership, the formation dodged cleanly each time, not a single player was struck by the full brunt of the attack.
Outside the chamber, the players assigned to hold the gate strained with all their might.
They poured every ounce of strength into keeping the gate wide open, allowing the surging water to spill harmlessly outward.
Thanks to their efforts, the whirlpool lances quickly lost power, collapsing into harmless torrents that splashed down harmlessly onto the stone floor.
Viscount Yofilis never once stepped into the melee.
He stood silently at the edge of the battlefield, his sharp gaze tracking the boss's every motion.
Whenever danger flickered, his calm yet resonant voice rose, issuing precise warnings or guidance as if he had already foreseen every move.
He had no intention of claiming this victory for himself.
On the contrary, Yofilis quietly withdrew, allowing the glory of this battle to belong to the players, to those humans fighting with everything they had to prove they were worthy of continuing this harsh journey.
In the viscount's steady eyes, this was not a battle for him to mark his name upon, it was a blazing stage reserved for hearts that still burned.
"Everyone, get back! It's charging up its finishing move!" Kirito shouted, tension in his voice as his foot slammed against the ground, propelling him forward.
He was ready to use his speed to cut through, hoping to slay the boss before its devastating skill could trigger.
But the deep, commanding voice of Viscount Yofilis overrode the chaos. "No! hold your positions! Tanks, advance! Lock it down!"
He raised his sword high, his tone unyielding. "Pour all your weight into your shields! Close in and break its focus! You... are the blades that will end this battle!"
At once, the tanks clenched their jaws, raising their shields into a massive wall of steel, and charged.
The impact thundered like a storm. Blow after blow struck with brutal force, each shield bash interrupting the monster's casting motion, crushing its final HP bar.
[Congratulations]
A bright translucent message flashed before everyone's eyes, announcing their final victory as Wythege the Hippocampus collapsed.
The heavy crash resounded through the glass hall, shaking the very floor beneath them.
The water-streaked, cracked shields still pressed against the fallen beast, living proof of a legendary finishing strike.
The tanks' breaths came ragged, arms trembling from exhaustion, yet proud smiles broke across their faces.
All around, cheers erupted. The fear of failure that had haunted them moments ago burst like a bubble, replaced by a rekindled faith stronger than ever.
Kirito stopped mid-step, his blade still raised. But before he could swing, the Hippocampus had already dissolved into fragments of light under the crushing force of the unified shield strike.
The glowing [Congratulations] filled the room, dazzling their eyes. Kirito froze, breathing heavily, his hand stiff around the hilt.
A few seconds later, he slowly lowered his sword, his face flushing with embarrassment.
"So much for the finishing strike, huh?" Kibaou laughed, half-teasing, half-triumphant, giving Kirito a firm pat on the shoulder that nearly knocked him over.
"Guess we'll be taking that last-hit bonus this time."
Laughter broke out across the room. The sound echoed through the empty aquarium-like chamber where the boss had vanished, light, teasing, and free, sweeping away the dark air left behind by their earlier defeat.
Kirito could only scratch his head, cheeks flushed red, utterly speechless.