Olga's intentions were already quite clear.
"Ladies and gentlemen who've come from afar, surely you don't want to see a one-sided, boring competition, do you?"
"Glove holders, surely you don't want to be defeated the moment you enter the field, rendering all your efforts wasted and your dreams shattered, right?"
"To prevent such a situation, we—the Thirteen—have appeared here before you."
Olga's loud proclamation echoed under the moonlit night.
"From this point on, we—the Thirteen—will protect all glove holders stepping onto the battlefield, ensuring none of you taste the bitter defeat of a foregone conclusion."
"For that reason, we hope you glove holders can lend us your strength, fight alongside us, and face the powerful enemies ahead."
"Some might think we're forming factions to gang up and gain an unfair advantage, but I assure you—this is not driven by base intentions. The truth is simple: our enemy is far too powerful. I believe everyone here is well aware of that."
Olga's words turned every gaze in the arena toward Rozen.
Bathed in the attention of all present, Rozen raised an eyebrow slightly, his expression becoming amused, almost smirking.
Seeing this person so unfazed, even intrigued by Olga's declaration, and maintaining such effortless composure, everyone present couldn't help but feel the same thing.
Indeed, this was an enemy far too powerful—one no single combatant could defeat alone.
Thus, Olga had made this reluctant proposal.
"From now on, we—the Thirteen—will each recruit our own allies, and when necessary, we shall join forces in battle."
"Glove holders may choose someone they trust and join their faction. Those confident in their strength may form their own forces or collaborate with others."
"The Night Party will no longer be simple chaos and skirmish. It will evolve into a war between factions."
"We—the Thirteen—will take this as our new goal: forming our own faction and ultimately deciding the victor."
"This decision is the collective will of the seven of us among the Thirteen: ranked 3rd, 4th, 5th, 9th, 11th, 12th, and 13th."
"We hope you all look forward to what's coming."
Olga's declaration thus concluded.
The audience looked at one another in shock.
And then—
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH————!"
In the next moment, thunderous cheers erupted and shook the skies.
This sudden development ignited the crowd's emotions, sparking intense excitement and anticipation.
Even the VIPs and distinguished guests in the special seats were visibly intrigued, whispering among themselves.
No doubt, after tonight, the strategies of puppeteers from every nation would be forced to change. The shape of the Night Party would become unpredictable. For the audience, it was indeed something to look forward to.
But Charl and Loki were not in a good mood.
"How shrewd," Loki said coldly.
"Exactly!" Charl fumed.
Olga's move was easy to understand: she realized she couldn't defeat Rozen alone, nor could she take on Charl, Loki, and Frey's combined force, so she sought reinforcements.
It was a very effective strategy.
Other glove holders must already be panicking, unsure how to deal with Rozen or how to avoid elimination and survive in the Night Party.
At this moment, Olga stepped forward with such a speech—surely they'd flock to her like drowning people clinging to a lifeline.
This way, lower-ranked glove holders could rely on the higher-ranked ones, and the higher ranks could gather their power in return—mutually beneficial.
Especially when facing Rozen, even high-ranked glove holders had reason to join forces. Otherwise, the result was obvious: defeat.
Most likely, Olga and the others had already made a pact: when facing Rozen, they would all strike together. In other situations, they'd maintain separate factions, just as Olga had said—each expanding their forces, securing favorable conditions in the Night Party, and aiming for final victory.
Charl and Loki, on the other hand, were notoriously aloof. Though they were famous within the academy, they lacked popularity. Now that they were seemingly allied with Rozen, few would be willing to join their side.
As for Rozen—while he had both overwhelming strength and charisma—would anyone really want to side with him?
Because Rozen was just too strong. Even if he recruited others, what would happen after helping him defeat everyone else?
Simple—they would have to turn on Rozen for the title of Wiseman.
Would they be able to win against Rozen?
The answer was obvious.
Thus, joining Rozen would only serve to hand him the victory.
In contrast, the other powerful members of the Thirteen were strong, yes—but not invincible. There'd still be a chance to challenge them in the end.
So Olga's move was definitely not good news for Charl and Loki.
But Rozen saw even deeper.
As Olga and the other Thirteen exchanged glances, Rozen narrowed his eyes.
"Trying to throw the battlefield into chaos to create a winning opportunity, huh?"
Exactly.
Olga and the others weren't just trying to rally glove holders to fight Rozen. They were trying to make the battlefield unpredictable.
Because they knew—even if they all fought Rozen together, they still might lose.
"Solo combat isn't enough."
"Even united effort won't cut it."
"So they plan to combine every possible method?"
That was their calculation.
By staying in separate factions, forming alliances, and plunging the battlefield into chaos, they could introduce countless variables.
In such chaos, perhaps they could find their one shot at victory.
They had no other hope.
There was no doubt—these puppeteers were ready to risk everything for victory.
Rozen swept his gaze across the room, meeting eyes full of determination and resolve—telling him that they were ready to bet it all.
Irori, Yaya, and Komurasaki approached Rozen.
"Rozen-sama!" Irori said in a low voice, "Let's strike now!"
"Yes, Rozen!" Yaya added urgently. "Now's the time to move—before they gather more people!"
"Are we going in?" Komurasaki asked eagerly. "Make the call, quick, Rozen!"
The three girls all voiced their stance.
Charl and Loki made the same choice.
"Sigmund! We're going!"
"Cherubim!"
The two called out to their Automaton Dolls.
Battle erupted in an instant.