I Don't Need To Log Out

Shirl was shaking. This was the worst thing that could happen to her. She needed to stay here and continue feeding the thing under the cliff, or else her family would be killed.

But the Magus Council had ordered her to return. Normally, she would take orders from the government, since she was just an administrator. But she knew that the Magus Council was one of the few organizations powerful enough to influence government decisions, especially if it was about something like reassigning an unimportant administrator like her.

She was caught between a rock and a hard place. If she returned, her parents would die. If she stayed, she didn't know what the Magus Council would do.

As she debated her next move, there was a knock at the door—again. Dread clenched her stomach as she moved to open it, fearing the worst.

To her surprise—or perhaps, as she had come to expect—something strange awaited her. Standing in the doorway was Arlon, his Wandsword poised at her throat.

---

When Arlon left the cave, it was long past the time for players to enter. Without wasting a moment, he contacted Pierre.

"I have an urgent quest for you."

"Hi, sir. Yes, please tell us what it is!"

"Return to Istarra immediately and find the alchemist Charon. I'll give you your full instructions once you contact me from there."

Arlon regretted not asking Charon for contact information. Istarra was in danger, and he was powerless to intervene yet.

"I understand. We'll leave at once," Pierre said.

After putting the crystal away, Arlon headed for the town.

In the bustling square, the number of players had noticeably increased. Adventurers gathered in clusters, sharing quests and rumors. Among the crowd, one group stood out—a trio of experienced players. Their leader, a tall warrior named Corven, strode toward Arlon with obvious confidence.

In the week since this world had opened, some players had already made names for themselves. The trio was a prime example—though more infamous than famous. Of course, Arlon, focused on his own mission, remained blissfully unaware of their reputation.

"Hey, you! Come here a second," Corven called out.

Arlon sighed inwardly. He didn't have time for this, but he also couldn't risk exposing himself. As an "NPC", he couldn't attack first, and he didn't have the patience to wait for Corven to strike. Instead, he played along.

"How may I help you? Do you need guidance?"

Corven hesitated, clearly taken aback. The system provided no explicit marker distinguishing NPCs from players, but Trionians were usually easy to spot—most weren't human. Even Corven knew better than to pick a fight with someone he wasn't sure about, so he changed his tone.

"Ah, I am sorry. It seems like I mistook you with someone else."

Arlon noticed Corven's gaze lingering on the Wandsword in his hand and the Sentinel's Legacy Set he wore. It was obvious the warrior was coveting his gear. This was why Arlon preferred not to wear the full set in public—but today, he had no choice.

Arlon didn't forget to take them out, he didn't because he would need them soon. Shirl was at a higher level than him, so it would be harder for him to beat her without the Sentinel's Legacy Set.

Of course, level 85 wasn't that high. Arlon could win against a mage at that level. But he wouldn't risk anything in the middle of the town.

That was why he was wearing the full set and the Wandsword.

Since they were in town, Corven wouldn't do anything stupid. But Arlon was sure that he would see this trio soon, outside the walls of the city.

"I'm just another traveler," Arlon replied, brushing past Corven without further comment.

Corven watched him go, suspicion flickering in his eyes. Players pretending to be NPCs to get out of fights weren't unheard of, but there was always something off about them—something that gave them away.

So, Corven decided to wait for now, to see if that guy was really an NPC.

He wanted the sword the guy had. Even without knowing what it was, the sword seemed like a strong one. But Corven also had a skill.

The skill wasn't actually strong, it only helped him sense something if a strong equipment is around.

Of course, it already helped his team become stronger by finding some hidden equipment.

"Sure you are," Corven said with a smirk. "The name is Corven! If you ever need help with something, you can find us here. We're not like the newbies hanging around the square." Corven thought that if he was an NPC, he would give it away.

After Arlon left, Corven told his two lackeys to ask around about that guy.

---

At the inn, Arlon spotted the bald innkeeper busy with his duties. To the townsfolk, everything seemed normal. None of them had any idea of the catastrophe brewing beneath their feet. For a brief moment, Arlon felt a flicker of relief—at least these people wouldn't have to die this time.

Shaking off the thought, he headed straight to Shirl's room and knocked firmly on the door.

He knew she was inside; she never left.

After a pause, the door creaked open to reveal Shirl. Without hesitation, Arlon swung his sword at her neck—stopping just short of the killing blow.

The Wandsword hovered inches from her throat. Her wide, tear-filled eyes told Arlon everything. She wasn't just scared; she was broken.

"Let's get inside and talk," he said threateningly, stepping into the room.

Shirl didn't resist. She understood her situation. She was a Magus, and she could easily discern the quality of Arlon's equipment. There was no point in fighting.

So, they went inside and closed the door. 

Arlon was here to kill a traitor, so he didn't have any mercy. The reason he stopped was different. He hadn't thought about other possible reasons and decided that she was a traitor one-sidedly.

This was a mistake on his part. He understood this once he saw Shirl's face. So, even though he didn't relax yet, he decided it would be better to question her first.

"I only have one question," said Arlon, taking out the medallion, "What is your relation with Keldars?"

Shirl froze, her face draining of color. She had known she was caught, but this was worse than she imagined. Not only had she been discovered, but the plan itself had been compromised.

If she was only caught, she would be killed but her family would be released, probably. She wasn't sure because she didn't know about Keldars that much.

But now, it was obvious that the plan was also discovered. This meant that her parents wouldn't survive this. This mission was a failure.

Then, something weird happened and Shirl felt relaxed. She didn't want to be a traitor anyway. And with the guarantee of death, she could be honest.

Shirl took a deep, trembling breath and began to speak.

"I didn't want any of this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The Keldars... They have my family. They threatened to kill them unless I followed their orders."

She glanced at the medallion in Arlon's hand and continued. "That thing... it's a part of their plan. I'm supposed to keep feeding the creature under the cliff, helping it evolve. They said if I stopped or told anyone, they'd make me watch as they..." Her voice cracked, and tears streamed down her face.

Arlon's mind raced as he processed her words. He hadn't expected this level of desperation. He was ready to strike down a traitor, but now... this complicated things. Still, he couldn't afford to let emotions cloud his judgment.

"Do you know what the Keldars plan to do next?" he asked coldly.

Shirl nodded hesitantly. "The creature isn't the only one. There are others like it—monsters scattered across Trion, each being nurtured in secret. When they all evolve, they'll attack the frontlines simultaneously. That's how they plan to weaken Trion before their full invasion."

Arlon's grip on the Wandsword tightened. This confirmed his worst fears. The destruction of the starting towns in the previous timeline had begun just like this.

"I am sorry to tell you this, but your parents are already dead," said Arlon. He didn't mean to but his voice was lower than normal, as if he was sharing the pain.

"What? What do you mean!"

"I know for a fact that all the prisoners are dead. This is not something I am guessing, but something I know."

Her wails filled the room, raw and heart-wrenching. Arlon waited silently, giving her a moment to grieve. When her sobs finally subsided, she looked up at him with hollow eyes.

Arlon didn't want to continue with her like this, but he had to.

"One last question," Arlon said, his voice hard. "Are you willing to help me stop them, even if it means risking your life?"

Shirl hesitated, but then something shifted in her expression. She straightened her back, wiping the tears from her face. "Yes," she said firmly. "If it means hitting back at those bastards, I'll do whatever it takes."

Arlon nodded, finally lowering his weapon. "Good. Then we start now."

He reached into his bag and pulled out a small communication crystal. "I'm going to need you to tell me everything—every detail about the Keldars' plans, their contacts, and their operations. And, you are going to Istarra. You will be safe there. I will prepare an escort soon."

Shirl looked at the crystal, then back at Arlon, determination and fear warring in her eyes. "All right," she said, her voice steady. "I'll tell you everything."

As they began planning their next move, Arlon couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out. The Keldars were further along in their plans than he'd thought. But now, with Shirl's knowledge, he had a chance to stop them before it was too late.