When Rozen arrived at the arena and passed through the entrance tunnel into the battleground, the area was already far more crowded than usual.
Charl, Loki, and Frey each stood with their own Automaton Dolls, glaring intently at the others on the field.
"Rozen."
Frey, whose hearing was particularly keen, was the first to notice Rozen's arrival. She turned her head and looked at him, the fear on her face fading significantly as if she had just breathed a sigh of relief.
"You still remember to show up, huh?"
Charl also turned to look at Rozen, still visibly displeased with him.
"..."
Loki, on the other hand, said nothing. He continued to glare ahead at the opposing group, his eyes filled with grim determination.
"Sorry, I'm late."
Rozen gave a quick greeting to the group, then advanced with Irori, Yaya, and Komurasaki, his gaze falling upon those gathered ahead.
There, a number of people had formed into loose groups, having entered the field.
There were twin brothers with similar appearances but starkly different expressions—one cold, the other gentle.
There was a small girl who looked very young, holding a staff.
There was a girl student wielding a sheathed black sword, her face expressionless.
There was a girl dressed like a noblewoman, holding a fan, with a clearly modified academy uniform.
In addition to them stood a dark-skinned young man and a beautiful girl with stunning features.
Seven Automaton Users had appeared—breaking the pattern of empty matches from the past few nights—as they now stood together on the opposite side.
Each of them emitted an extraordinary magical presence, making it clear they were no ordinary individuals.
Especially the dark-skinned youth, the fairy-like girl, and the noble-looking maiden—the mana radiating from those three far exceeded the others.
Upon seeing them, Charl, Loki, and Frey all spoke gravely.
"Avatar..."
"Golden Olga..."
"Northern Cross..."
The three titles came from Loki, Charl, and Frey respectively.
Rozen, of course, recognized them.
"Night Party Rank 3: Asura Owen."
"Night Party Rank 4: Olga Saladin."
"Night Party Rank 5: Sonechka Snitkina."
These three had once been considered the strongest contenders for the Wiseman title—second only to Rozen before he voluntarily stepped down—and were once seen as Magnus's greatest rivals before Rozen had entered the academy.
The remaining four were also high-ranking, exceptional Automaton Users.
"Those are the Zekaros Brothers, Rank 9 and 11, right?"
"That little girl seems to be Rank 13, Dorothy McGuffin!"
"And that sword-wielding girl... she's Rank 12, Hazel Heimdall!"
From the stands, the spectators began to recognize the identities of those on the field, their excited chatter escalating.
Because tonight, seven of the Thirteen—the ones deemed most likely to seize the title of Wiseman—had gathered on the Night Party battleground.
And the Execution Division of the Night Party stood by, not making any effort to stop them.
What did that imply?
It signified one thing.
"They've all voluntarily stepped down from their ranks?"
Charl exclaimed in shock.
"So that's it. The seven who didn't show up over the past week due to skip rights… it was them."
Loki understood now.
"Th-they're here to be our opponents?"
Frey couldn't help but shrink back in fear.
Everyone realized the gravity of the situation, which only further intensified the atmosphere.
At this very moment, ten members of the Thirteen were gathered on the Night Party stage—those considered the most likely to become the next Wiseman.
Except for Hinowa, who hadn't returned to school, Magnus, who hadn't stepped down, and Cedric, the murdered head of the Night Party Execution Department, all of the Thirteen were present.
Adding in Veyron, who possessed Thirteen-level power despite not being officially ranked, and Frey, who had brought all thirteen Garm as her team, this gathering was effectively the strongest group of this year's Night Party.
Seeing this lineup, if the excitement didn't explode, then the Night Party wasn't worth watching.
The audience erupted with cheers and feverish enthusiasm.
But on Rozen's side, their expressions were far from cheerful.
Charl was relatively composed, only tensing and letting Sigmund perch on her arm with a wary expression. Loki and Frey, however, looked truly disturbed.
They both stared fixatedly at one of the girls among the opposing group—the one wielding the sheathed black sword: Hazel Heimdall.
Seeing her pearl-colored hair, identical to that of Loki and Frey, made Loki's face twist and Frey's complexion go pale.
"Loki, is she...?"
Frey looked as though someone had ripped open an old wound, her expression sickly.
"Just great... what a nightmare..."
Even Loki gritted his teeth with a groan, clenching his fists tightly.
Affected by the siblings' emotions, Frey's Garm let out threatening growls, taking aggressive stances toward the opposing side. Even the Cherubim raised its head, red light flickering in its eyes.
Even Sigmund couldn't stay quiet.
"Be careful, Charl. They don't have good intentions."
Sigmund warned in a low voice.
"I know."
Charl took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
Olga and the others' arrival clearly placed immense pressure on Charl, Loki, and Frey.
Only Rozen, along with Irori, Yaya, and Komurasaki—who all wore serious expressions—stared silently at the opposing group, his eyes glimmering faintly.
"How interesting."
Rozen's gaze passed over the seven individuals, finally stopping at Asura, Olga, and Sonechka.
Especially one among them made his eyes flash—surprise and curiosity twisting the corner of his lips into a slight smirk.
Veyron was also present, quietly standing with his Automaton Doll at the side, saying nothing.
Under these tense circumstances, the seven opponents also looked over—scanning Charl, Loki, and Frey before finally locking their eyes on Rozen.
And then, the seven began walking toward them.
"————"
As they approached, Charl, Loki, and Frey all tensed even further. The audience even went silent, holding their breath as they watched the events unfold.
Eventually, the seven arrived in front of Rozen and the others.
"This is our first face-to-face conversation, isn't it, Mr Rorelai Arneet?"
The speaker was the girl standing at the center of the seven—Olga Saladin—who seemed to be leading the group.
"Should I introduce myself?"
Olga looked Rozen in the eye with a graceful smile and asked.
Rozen responded with a slight smile of his own.
"Who in this academy doesn't know you, Student Representative?"
"That's quite flattering," Olga said with a shrug, extending a hand toward Rozen. "I've always wanted to talk with you like this. If I'm being presumptuous, I hope you'll forgive me."
Rozen glanced at Olga's outstretched hand, then reached out and shook it.
At that moment, the rest of the group began to speak as well.