I Don't Need To Log Out

Arlon's matches were almost laughably easy. His first match ended with a single punch, sending his opponent sprawling to the ground.

In his second match, the outcome was decided in an instant—a swift kick to the abdomen that left his opponent incapacitated.

The remaining three matches followed the same pattern. None of his opponents could match his speed, strength, or precision.

Arlon dispatched each one effortlessly, barely breaking a sweat.

Since the Wandsword was associated with his identity as the guide, Arlon had stored it in his inventory for the tournament.

Instead, he carried a generic sword on his back—a leftover weapon he hadn't bothered to sell.

Though he never actually used the sword, displaying it served its purpose. It made others assume he was a warrior, which helped maintain his anonymity.

By the end of the day, Arlon had completed all his matches, standing undefeated.

Out of the thousands of participants, around 10 players managed to win all five of their respective matches.

The remaining slots for the main event had to be filled by players who had won four matches.

However, there were more than 50 players in this category.

To determine who would advance, these players fought additional matches until the total for the main event reached 32 competitors.

Once the selection process was complete, the day officially ended. Players began logging out, preparing to return for the next phase of the tournament.

As for Arlon, he made sure to hide before the servers shut down. He couldn't afford to raise questions about why he, unlike the others, didn't log out.

For now, his strategy had worked, and his dual identities remained intact.

Meanwhile, the meeting between Charon, Ben, Leon, and Arlon's copy had concluded.

During the discussion, everyone contributed their thoughts on how to address the unresolved threat.

Each idea was carefully considered, but ultimately, they decided to proceed with the plan proposed by Zephyrion, relayed through Ben.

The plan was set to commence on the day after the main event, allowing time for preparations and minimizing disruptions to the tournament.

Once the meeting ended and the group dispersed, Arlon canceled the Doppelganger (Weakened) spell. Taking its place, he re-entered the scene as himself.

With the players now logged out for the night, there was no longer a need to maintain his guise as a participant. Arlon's focus shifted back to his role in the unfolding events.

---

Even as night fell, the streets of Istarra remained lively.

The city buzzed with activity as administrators and military officers let loose after a hard day's work.

Every referee was actually observing the players at the same time during matches to report if there were any promising players.

Strength wasn't the only factor they sought; qualities like fighting instinct and adaptability mattered just as much.

Managing thousands of players came with its challenges.

Some players even attempted to cozy up to the administrators, offering bribes to secure their advancement in the tournament.

The absurdity of the situation amused the administrators.

The bribes were laughably small—amounts that wouldn't have moved even the most corrupt official, let alone Trion's disciplined authorities.

Despite these antics, the night carried on.

At Shirl's request, Arlon joined her for a night out. They invited Charon to come along, but he dismissed the idea without hesitation.

"There's no way I'm wasting my time with that nonsense," Charon said gruffly, returning to his work.

With Charon's refusal, Arlon and Shirl ventured out alone.

There weren't many options for nightlife in Istarra. A few taverns dotted the streets, and the inn where Arlon often dined doubled as a restaurant.

Arlon suggested the inn, thinking it would offer a more familiar atmosphere compared to the bustling taverns

As they walked through the streets, they passed clusters of administrators and military officers, many of whom were already drunk.

Singing, dancing, and laughter filled the air as taverns placed extra chairs outside to accommodate the crowd.

But when they got close to the inn, they realized it wasn't the case there.

Firstly, there weren't any chairs outside. It seemed like people were avoiding that place altogether.

Even the singing and dancing people were absent on the street.

Two soldiers stood at the inn's entrance, their presence adding to the sense of unease.

Curious, Arlon approached the door. The soldiers didn't stop him, barely sparing him a glance as he entered with Shirl close behind.

Inside, the reason for the eerie stillness became clear.

Seated alone at a table, sipping a glass of wine, was Lady Rael.

Her elegant presence was undeniable. Dressed in a refined gown, her jade-green hair framed her pale face, and her white eyes glimmered with a quiet intensity.

It was clear why the inn was so empty. People either feared Lady Rael or respected her so much that they dared not disturb her.

Even Shirl seemed uncomfortable, tugging on Arlon's sleeve in an unspoken plea to leave.

But before they could retreat, Lady Rael noticed them.

"Ah, I know you," she said, her voice calm yet commanding. "You must be Miss. Shirl, correct? And the one with you... Sir Arlon, am I right? Would you care to join me?"

Her gaze lingered on Arlon for a moment, her white eyes narrowing slightly before she continued with a faint smile. "As you can see, I'm drinking alone. Surely, you wouldn't leave a lady by herself, would you, Sir Arlon?"

Caught in the spotlight, they had no choice but to comply. They sat across from Lady Rael and ordered wine.

"Please, don't feel pressured," Lady Rael said lightly. "I don't know why, but people seem to avoid me. Do I seem so unapproachable?"

"I think they respect you, Lady Rael," Shirl replied quickly, her voice almost too eager.

Lady Rael smiled faintly. "Ah, thank you for your kind words, but it's all right. I'm used to it."

Turning her attention to Arlon, she continued, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir Arlon. Who would have thought I'd meet two notable Arlons in one day? Were you aware there's a savior by the same name?"

Her words carried a hint of curiosity, but Arlon sensed something deeper—a veiled test.

"It's an honor to meet you, Lady Rael," Arlon said smoothly. "Forgive my ignorance, but I'm not familiar with that savior."

Her expression didn't falter, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes. "I see. Then it's not important," she replied with a touch of reluctance. "I also heard you were the one who brought the report about the Keldars in the cities. On behalf of Trionians, I thank you."

"I only did what needed to be done," Arlon said humbly. He gestured toward Shirl. "Miss Shirl's contributions were invaluable as well. We couldn't have solved it without her help."

Lady Rael's smile turned wistful. "I'm sorry for mentioning something so sensitive. That was rude of me... No wonder I'm drinking alone," she added with a self-deprecating chuckle. Then, turning to Shirl, she said gently, "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Shirl."

Shirl's gaze dropped, but her voice remained steady. "It's in the past now, Lady Rael. Thank you for your concern."

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and while it wasn't the kind of fun Shirl and Arlon had planned for, it was engaging in its own way.

As the evening wore on, the wine began to loosen tongues and dull inhibitions. Shirl eventually dozed off, her head resting on the table.

Lady Rael, her expression thoughtful, finally voiced what she had been holding back.

"Sir Arlon, if you don't mind, I have a question."

When Arlon didn't respond, she took his silence as permission to continue.

"Most people assume I'm blind, but I'm not. I can see just fine. In fact, that's part of the problem."

She paused, seemingly expecting a reaction, but Arlon simply waited, his expression unreadable. Encouraged, she pressed on.

"When I look at people, I see glimpses of their past or future. It's a gift, but it doesn't work on everyone. For example, I can't see saviors' pasts or futures, nor can I see those of certain Trionians. Lord Zephyrion, for instance, is too strong, and Lord Charon..."

She hesitated before finishing, "He's cursed."

Arlon's mind froze for a moment.

Charon is cursed? How? The revelation was startling, but he suspected it was something Lady Rael had let slip due to the alcohol.

I'll need to look into this later, he thought, refocusing as Lady Rael continued.

"But for some reason," Lady Rael continued, her tone growing more pointed, "I can't see anything about you either, Sir Arlon. The thing is, you don't appear to be cursed—otherwise, my gift would react differently. And you're not too strong for it, as I can clearly see your level is 100, the same as the savior named Arlon. So, I must ask... are you a player?"

Arlon hadn't expected her to ask so directly. He paused, masking his surprise. This must be the effect of the alcohol, he thought.

Still, her sharpness unsettled him. Lady Rael's observations were far too accurate, and while her suspicions hadn't fully landed on the truth, she was circling dangerously close.

"Lady Rael," Arlon began, his voice calm and respectful, "I understand your curiosity. But if I were a player, I wouldn't be here during the pause time."

He met her gaze steadily before continuing, "As for why your gift doesn't work on me, I genuinely don't know. Until tonight, I didn't even realize you weren't blind. It became clear as you spoke to us face-to-face, but your gift is news to me."

Lady Rael's expression softened, and she let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. "Ah, I see. Please, forgive my boldness. And, if you would, keep my gift a secret. Knowing about it could put me in danger—I am, after all, just a frail lady."

She seemed to accept his explanation, though Arlon couldn't tell if she truly believed him or simply chose to let the matter rest.

After a brief pause, she leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I think it's time to end the night. Any longer, and I might say something I shouldn't."

Her smile returned, though it carried a knowing edge. "I imagine Ben will be giving you an invitation to Kelta soon. If so, we'll likely meet there—unless, of course, you plan to visit me here every night."

Her playful tone caught Arlon off guard, but he smiled politely in return. "It would be an honor to speak with you every day, Lady Rael. I'll review my plans and visit if possible."

Lady Rael chuckled softly. "Careful, Sir Arlon. Flattery suits you too well."

With that, she signaled the end of their conversation and headed for her tent.