I Don't Need To Log Out

The inventory was a subspace granted exclusively to players by EVR, but that didn't mean Trionians were incapable of using subspaces themselves.

Thanks to advancements in magical engineering—a research field dominated by the ingenuity of dwarves—new inventions were developed daily. Some were practical, while others served as stepping stones for future breakthroughs.

Subspace gadgets were among these innovations. Typically crafted in the form of rings, these devices allowed the people of Trion to access a small, personal subspace.

However, these gadgets had their limitations. The storage space they provided was far smaller than the inventory available to players, they were prohibitively expensive, and they required mana to operate.

As a result, subspace rings were primarily used by wealthy merchants who could afford both their price and the mana to maintain them.

---

"Everyone, we'll have to walk the rest of the way," Ben announced as the group came to a halt.

The carriages stopped at the edge of the Administrative District, where vehicles were forbidden. The group stepped down and took a moment to adjust, their eyes roaming the bustling streets ahead.

The district was alive with activity. People moved with purpose, hurrying from one task to the next, their faces set with focus.

"Why is everyone in such a rush?" Carmen asked, wide-eyed.

Little did they know, this was the norm for administrators. Their work demanded constant attention, leaving them perpetually busy and always on the move.

As they looked around, the diversity of the crowd struck them. Maguses dominated the scene, their natural aptitude for organization and magic making them ideal for administrative roles. However, the district wasn't limited to Maguses alone.

Two Fairies zipped past, each carrying a stack of books twice their size, their wings beating rapidly to keep pace.

A Fhrem, with his towering stature and heavy steps, jogged alongside a much smaller Dwarf. The ground vibrated with each of the Fhrem's strides as the pair hurried toward a nearby building.

A pair of Elves sat on a bench, wolfing down food as though it might escape their plates if they didn't eat quickly.

Beastmen were less common here, most of them stationed along the walls or acting as soldiers rather than administrators.

Shirl, Lady Rael, and the accompanying administrators and soldiers were accustomed to this frenetic atmosphere. For the players, however, it was a completely new experience.

"Is it always like this?" Evan whispered to Pierre.

"Apparently," Pierre replied, equally awestruck.

The only one who seemed unfazed was Arlon. But his calm demeanor wasn't due to familiarity with the district.

When Arlon came here in the past timeline, he didn't see such a scene.

He came after Kelta was invaded and the second in command of the Keldars was here.

It was because of what he sensed.

Arlon's sharp instincts told him that many of the individuals bustling around them were immensely powerful. Some were as strong as he was, while others surpassed him entirely.

In the past timeline, he had been stronger than them all. But not now. This realization left him quietly reflective.

Shirl, on the other hand, was on the weaker side, a fact Arlon couldn't help but note.

As these thoughts passed through his mind, the group resumed their journey toward the Citadel, which stood at the center of the district.

The streets grew even busier as they moved forward. Occasionally, Trionians bumped into them without so much as a glance, let alone an apology.

"This is normal here," Lady Rael explained. "Don't take it personally."

After ten minutes of weaving through the crowded streets, they finally arrived. The Citadel was a massive, gleaming white structure, its size dwarfing even the city walls.

Its towering spires were visible from far beyond Kelta, a constant reminder of the city's importance and power.

As they approached the steps, a man descended slowly, his presence commanding attention.

He was tall and slender, with long black hair that framed his sharp features. His dark eyes gleamed with intelligence, and his faint smile didn't quite reach them.

"Who's that?" Lei whispered, leaning closer to June.

The man stopped before them, his gaze sweeping over the group. Placing a hand over his chest, he spoke. "I greet Lady Rael."

Lady Rael offered a polite smile, though her tone was humble. "Oh my, isn't this Asmond? You don't need to greet me—I'm neither an administrator nor a soldier."

"Asmond?" Arlon thought, his interest piqued.

"It's no trouble," Asmond replied smoothly. "How could I not greet you, Lady Rael? After all, you are to be my sister-in-law."

The group exchanged surprised glances at his words but held their tongues, waiting for Lady Rael's reaction.

"I don't know who told you that," Lady Rael said, her voice now tinged with irritation. "But that's simply not true. We are not in any kind of marriage talks with Lord Zephyrion."

Asmond chuckled lightly, brushing off her anger. "Ah, it must be my mistake then. My apologies. Hmm? Is that Miss Shirl I see?" His sharp eyes shifted to her. "Please forgive me for not greeting you earlier. I thought you would already be imprisoned."

Shirl hung her head with anger, but she didn't answer hastily, "Greetings, Sir Asmond. I haven't been to the trial yet." She answered with a defeated face.

"Ah, I see," Asmond replied with feigned sympathy. "I thought you might already be imprisoned, given that your trial with the Magus Council is over," he said and continued, "You don't need to come to the council anymore, by the way."

Shirl's shoulders slumped slightly. She knew that after her father passed away, she wouldn't be able to continue to be a part of the council even without this event.

"Ah, but I digress. Look at the time. I must take my leave. You all know the rules: 'Think fast, walk faster.'" Asmond smirked and walked away without waiting for a response.

Wasn't that saying supposed to be 'Walk fast, think faster'? Arlon thought. Not that it matters right now.

The group continued to the Citadel, but curiosity buzzed among them. Finally, Carole broke the silence.

"Lady Rael, who was that man?"

"Sigh..." Lady Rael sighed deeply. "That was Asmond, the younger brother of Lord Zephyrion."

"Wait," Pierre interjected, clearly confused. "Isn't Lord Zephyrion a Beastman? How is that possible?"

Arlon was shocked that Pierre had this information.

Lady Rael hesitated before answering. "That's confidential information, so don't concern yourself with it. But yes, they are siblings. Asmond is also a high-ranking member of the Magus Council and an administrator here in Kelta."

The group fell silent again, though the questions in their minds were far from answered.

Ah... the life of an administrator isn't for me. Good thing I don't live here, Arlon thought as they continued their climb.

After ascending the long staircase, they reached the towering white doors of the Citadel.

One of the soldiers approached the guards stationed at the entrance and spoke to them briefly.

Upon hearing his words, one of the guards turned and hurried inside, returning moments later with someone else.

The newcomer was a tall giraffe Beastman woman, dressed in a pencil skirt and a crisp white shirt.

Her appearance was both professional and slightly amusing, as the tie she wore seemed almost comically long to accommodate her extended neck.

Of course, her neck wasn't as long as that of an actual giraffe, but it was noticeably longer than any human's.

"Welcome back, Lady Rael," she greeted warmly before turning to the rest of the group. "And welcome to the Crown of Trion, Kelta, saviors."