I Don't Need To Log Out

The red-eyed man punched the cheetah-like man standing before him with a force that sent him staggering.

"What do you mean they're dead?!" Asef roared, his voice shaking the room. He was the leader of the Keldars, and his fury was palpable.

The other Keldar, blood trickling from his lips, immediately straightened and replied respectfully despite his pain. "Sir! One of the Trionians must have leaked the information. All but one of the Keldars we were cultivating on the Trion frontlines have been killed."

Asef's crimson eyes burned brighter. "Tell Draco to find out who talked—or he'll be the next to die! I will deal with him soon."

Draco, the Twelfth Demon, was the one responsible for the project Arlon had uncovered.

"Understood!" The cheetah-like Keldar, still trembling slightly, bowed and retreated.

Asef slammed his fist into the table before him, splintering it. "I shouldn't have trusted Draco with this mission! He's ruined everything!"

"Sir, please calm down," a smooth voice interjected. A Beastman woman with sleek, lupine features stepped forward, her tone measured and unafraid. "Even though this is a setback, it doesn't jeopardize our ultimate goal."

Asef's fiery gaze turned to her. "Do you honestly think we'll still reach Kelta in six months?"

She nodded, unflinching under his scrutiny. "We may need to accelerate certain plans, but it's still feasible. Six months is achievable." Her poise made it clear that she wasn't intimidated by Asef, even though she knew he could end her life with a single blow.

Asef growled low in his throat. "I never should have listened to him. If we attacked all at once, we could've wiped out those Trionians by now."

The woman shook her head, her expression calm but firm. "Sir, as you know, a direct assault would have dragged the conflict out for decades. And if their kin were slaughtered en masse, morale in our own ranks would crumble."

"It doesn't matter," Asef snapped, his voice final. "You have six months. If we're not in Kelta by then, I will start the war myself."

---

Arlon received multiple notifications, but his attention was drawn to one in particular. He stared at it in awe:

"You have leveled up. You gained 3 CP."

What do you mean, I've leveled up? What just happened?

"Sir Charon, what did you do?" Arlon asked, his voice tinged with confusion. Before Charon could answer, Shirl interjected:

"He shared his life force with you, which means he gave you some of his experience. But, Sir Charon, was that really necessary? You consumed more life force than the experience you transferred."

Charon chuckled, a deep, dismissive sound. "Do you think such a minuscule amount at his level would affect me? I don't even notice it."

Arlon's curiosity deepened. Experience sharing? Like the NPCs do in the other games?

"Miss Shirl," Arlon began hesitantly, "could you explain what that is? I'm not sure I fully understand what just happened."

Shirl raised an eyebrow. "Haven't you attended the academy? How do you not know this?" Her tone suggested disbelief; this was common knowledge among Maguses.

"I have… special circumstances," Arlon admitted vaguely.

She sighed, clearly exasperated. "Sigh... That again? Fine, I'll start from the beginning. When someone fights and emerges victorious, they gain experience. This applies to us, to Keldars, and even to the saviors. But experience alone isn't what allows us to level up. What we actually gain is life force. Every living being possesses life force, and it grows stronger as they level up."

"So, when we defeat an opponent, we essentially take some of their life force. However, as a lower existence, you can't sense or manipulate life force directly." She paused, noticing Arlon's uneasy expression. "Ah, I see you're new to this. I think I should also explain the existence levels..."

She continued, "Long ago, Trionians used a grading system instead of levels. F-grade was for newborns, E-grade for levels 0–50, D-grade for levels 50–100, and so on... As you can understand, this grade system changed not too long ago. But, didn't the heroes of the past realize the vagueness of that system? They surely did, but then, why didn't they change it?"

Arlon interrupted, "Is it related to the 50-level interval between grades?"

"Exactly," Shirl said, nodding. "At every 50-level milestone, life force undergoes a transformation, elevating a being's existence level. There is one exception—when ascending from E-grade to D-grade, your life force gains existence since there is no existence to level up before that."

She glanced at him to gauge his understanding before continuing. "The gap between existence levels grows more pronounced as one ascends. For instance, while a D-grade being might defeat a C-grade with effort, a C-grade being would struggle greatly against a B-grade. This difference isn't just about combat strength; it affects many other factors as well."

That explains why I couldn't analyze Zerax properly, Arlon thought. I assumed it was just a level gap, but it must be about existence levels too.

Shirl smiled faintly. "I've gone on long enough. In short, Sir Charon is at a level where he can share his life force with others. But, if you want to share 1 level worth of life force, you should spend 2 levels, unless... the sharer has the mastery of an EX-level existence in controlling the life force."

At her words, both Arlon and Shirl turned to Charon. He remained impassive, focused on the smoke curling from his pipe as though he hadn't heard a word.

Arlon realized he wouldn't uncover Charon's true level anytime soon. Shifting gears, he asked, "Miss Shirl, why did the level system replace the grade system? Existence levels seem more significant than regular levels."

"That is also correct, but we didn't choose it. Since I can't see your level, I know you are at a higher level than me, but you should be able to see my level when you look at my head, right?"

Arlon's brain went overdrive. This was an information he didn't have. He decided to make sure he understood correctly:

Firstly, Trionians could see the others' level even if the one they were looking at was a player.

Second, they couldn't see the levels of those that are at a higher level than them.

Third, Charon had always been able to see his level since the first day they met.

Lastly, Charon had turned his head toward Arlon as soon as he heard the question for some reason, so Arlon had to answer immediately while looking at Shirl's head.

"Yes, you are level 85." Arlon hadn't activated the Eyes of ***** this time since if he did, Charon would probably realize. Fortunately, this was the level Shirl had been at during their time in Oceina. He could only hope she hadn't leveled up since then.

"You are correct. But, do you know why we can see each other's levels? We changed our level system at the same time we started seeing the levels on each other, the time when we were blessed with the Eyes of &%/(^+"

Her words were cut off. Instead of a name, a distorted sound reached Arlon's ears. A strange buzzing filled his head.

"I'm sorry, Miss Shirl. I didn't catch the last part. Could you repeat it?"

"Which part, Eyes of &%/(^+"

"Ahhh!" Arlon cried out in pain as his head felt like it was splitting apart. The buzzing grew louder until it overwhelmed his senses. Moments later, everything went black, and he collapsed to the floor.

---

Darkness enveloped Arlon, stretching endlessly no matter where he looked.

Where the hell am I? he thought.

"You don't need to know that yet," a voice answered, calm yet laced with an eerie resonance. "And you can't, even if you want to."

Arlon froze. He hadn't spoken aloud, so whoever—or whatever—was responding had read his thoughts.

"You're only partially correct," the voice continued. "But don't trouble yourself over that."

Arlon scanned the void, but no figure or shape materialized. Anger bubbled beneath the surface; the idea of someone invading his mind unsettled him. Still, he masked his irritation with caution. "I'm Arlon. May I know who I'm speaking to?"

"That, too, is something you cannot know," the voice replied smoothly. "Don't you recall what happened the last time you tried to uncover something you shouldn't?"

Memories surged forward: the incomprehensible sound Shirl uttered, the agonizing headache, and the moment he fainted.

You can't know that. You can't know this! Arlon thought bitterly. Then why drag me here?

"I didn't drag you here," the voice replied, almost amused. "You came of your own accord. Though, to be fair, you shouldn't be here at all. Not yet."

"Then I apologize for intruding," Arlon said, forcing calm into his voice. "Can you at least tell me how to leave?"

A low chuckle echoed in the darkness. "Aren't you curious about this place? About me?"

"Curious, yes," Arlon admitted, "but it seems asking won't get me any answers."

The voice chuckled again, a rich sound that seemed to reverberate through the void. "A smart response. You'll wake soon enough. Oh, and when you see Charon, tell him I said hello."

Before Arlon could reply, light flooded his vision, and the darkness receded. Moments later, he awoke in an unfamiliar bed, the memory of the voice lingering like a phantom whisper.