The unreasonable raid strategy really did bring a lot of trouble to the battle.
If they had stuck to the usual division of teams, the raid speed would've been at least twice as fast.
Clearly, given Cescale's size, the area was more than enough for everyone to attack at once, but the scene now looked more like a bustling marketplace during New Year's—noisy and chaotic.
Akimi's group kept bumping into members of DDA while dodging attacks—though more often than not, it was those people deliberately crashing into them.
And of course, every single one of them was wearing heavy armor.
"So this is Xilocart's plan? Why does it feel more like… he just took a giant dump?"
Seeing a DDA member stumble backward into her, Argo simply sidestepped, gave him a push to help him along, and muttered.
Xilocart's arrangement… well, hard to even comment on—having his subordinates interfere with them in an almost suicidal way, while he leisurely dished out damage from the sidelines.
Absolutely brain-dead… is it really possible for someone's brain to regress in age?
If Cescale had any sort of armor-piercing attack module, forget about their heavy armor—wearing ten shields stacked together wouldn't help.
And besides Argo, the others' light armor defense wasn't any lower than DDA's.
Not to mention, Akimi's group had at least five times as many healing items as those average DDA members—there was a clear gap between elites and regulars.
Still, Xilocart's plan was undeniably annoying—like a toad squatting on your foot.
It doesn't bite, but it sure makes you sick.
Before long, "good-tempered" Argo finally couldn't take it anymore.
With a squint-eyed smile, she swept her gaze over the surrounding DDA members and said in a cold tone:
"These bastards… hey, Kiri-bou, Aki-bou, Asu-chan—you guys just focus on attacking… and maybe keep your distance. Big sis here… is about to go on a rampage—"
Under Akimi and the others' puzzled stares, Argo pulled out a pile of multicolored bottles and jars from her inventory and used them all at once.
Suddenly, under her HP bar, more than a dozen different buffs appeared: speed boost, damage immunity, luck, rapid HP regen, stealth increase, fire resistance, and more.
With the buffs active, Argo slowly pulled up the hood of her Trickster's Cloak, a chilling grin curling on her lips.
Watching Argo's figure vanish, Akimi muttered with a strange expression:
"Those potions… they don't come cheap."
"Mm, two of them only drop from bosses, and even then only by chance," Kirito replied.
As a raid junkie, Kirito remembered the details of most items clearly—he could even recite the exact stats of boss-tier drops.
But… he was also well-known as a broke guy.
He had plenty of materials, but hardly any Col.
Which meant that among the potions Argo just used, there were quite a few he'd never gotten to try himself.
"Well, if stingy Argo's willing to splurge for once, then we'd better not drag our feet either."
Akimi casually twirled his blade, then activated his Water Breathing skill and unleashed a sword technique at Cescale.
"Water Breathing, Tenth Form: Constant Flux!"
A roaring water dragon tore through Cescale's leg muscles, leaving a massive wound.
After landing his strike, Akimi didn't get greedy—he immediately turned and retreated.
Sure enough, Cescale's aggro shifted onto him, and its tail whipped out toward him.
Just as Akimi was about to dodge out of Cescale's attack range, a guy clad in iron armor and wielding a spear suddenly rammed straight into him.
In that DDA member's mind, Akimi would be knocked back into the boss's attack zone, while he himself would walk away unscathed.
But Argo, hidden nearby under stealth, wasn't about to let him succeed.
She yanked Akimi aside and shoved the guy instead.
That simple move caused their positions to swap.
"Boom—!"
The DDA member was sent flying, his armor durability instantly shattered to zero, and more than half of his HP was wiped out.
Thanks to the Trickster's Cloak, he didn't even realize why—it only looked like Akimi had suddenly moved like he was using cheats, while he himself lost control and stumbled right into the boss's strike zone.
After a brief moment of shock, he decided to restore his health first and switch to a new set of gear.
But just as he pulled a healing crystal from his quickbar to use it, a short sword pierced out from behind him—severing the hand holding the crystal in a single slash.
Staring at the crystal lying on the ground alongside his severed hand, the DDA member froze.
In that instant of daze, a green-glowing dagger stabbed into his throat.
Then, the wielder of the blades reached out and patted his shoulder.
Just as he turned his head, the figure shoved him down.
He never saw the person's face—only heard a voice, refined and theatrical, like a gentleman reciting poetry—
"Hello, everyo's～show time."
The words, paired with the sound of the DDA member collapsing, drew every gaze in the battlefield toward him.
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