Santa was a punk, but he wasn’t gonna wail on a guy when he’s down. He rolled his eyes at the various sappy friendship speeches and threats of violence. Lame.
He was standing closer to the back of the party, and he took a moment to run his fingers through his hair and make sure the static electricity from his last attack didn’t mess anything up before he risked drawing attention to himself. Once he was sure he was looking cool, he called out.

“If you’re still feelin’ like fightin’, come show us guys in armor what you can do.” He put the compulsive power of his Overlord’s Corruption behind his words. If Garland was on the metaphorical ‘dark side’, he was hoping it would steer him to focus on himself and the other tanks, instead of Akane, Duster, or his two teenaged housemates. Santa had to keep them all out of danger, no matter what.