I Don't Need To Log Out

Cika, still seated on her cushion, continued the lesson while Arlon was thinking about Sheila.

"As you can see," she continued, "each race has its own distinct abilities and history. But these differences have also shaped Trion's past conflicts."

She flicked her fingers, and the illusionary images of the three races faded away. In their place, a map of Trion appeared, glowing softly in the air.

"Though there are nine races today, there were once seventeen."

A murmur spread through the classroom. Seventeen. Some students already knew this, but for others, it was an eerie reminder of how much had been lost.

Arlon remained silent, watching.

Enjoy new chapters from My Virtual Library Empire

Cika's voice carried across the room, calm yet firm.

"History is written by the victors, but power decides who remains to write it."

She tapped the map, and glowing markers appeared, showing the former locations of the lost races.

"What happened to those that vanished?" Sia asked, crossing her arms.

Cika's lips curled into a slight, knowing smile. "That," she said, "is a discussion for another lesson."

The students groaned, but she only chuckled.

"Now then," she said, waving her hand. The map faded, and the classroom returned to normal. "Let's return to something more immediate. Your upcoming exams."

Immediately, the mood in the room shifted.

Arlon's thoughts on Kri Folk and Trilans would have to wait.

For now, they had something else to prepare for.

---

After the lesson, the students and players made their way out of the classroom, stretching after the long theory session.

"Finally," Zack groaned, rolling his shoulders. "I swear, if we had to sit there any longer, I would've turned into a statue."

"That might improve your combat stance," Lei quipped, walking past him.

Zack narrowed his eyes. "I take personal offense to that."

Ignoring the bickering, Mei turned toward the others. "Where are we eating today? The cafeteria or back to the restaurant district?"

Evan immediately spoke up. "I vote restaurant district."

"Are you sure? We ate there yesterday," Arlon said.

"Yeah, because cafeteria food is fine, but the restaurant food is good," Evan argued. "And more importantly, I refuse to let my food be a mystery again."

Pierre, walking a little behind, suddenly flinched. The memory of his roasted sandcrawler flashed before his eyes.

"…Agreed," he muttered.

The group decided on the restaurant district again, making their way through the academy's bustling paths.

By now, they had mostly adjusted to the attention their presence drew, particularly Arlon's growing reputation.

As they arrived, they instinctively made their way back to the same place where they had eaten the previous day.

Once seated, the group picked up their menus, scanning through the choices.

"You know," Leafa said, flipping through the options, "we should try something new today instead of ordering the same thing."

"Absolutely not," Evan said instantly, not even looking up from his menu.

Mei chuckled. "Still mad about the Flamebread not actually being pizza thing?"

"I was betrayed, Mei."

Zack laughed. "You should get what Pierre had yesterday."

Pierre shot him a glare. "I would rather fight Orlen barehanded."

Lei smirked. "So no insect platter for you, then?"

"Never again," Pierre deadpanned.

As they continued deciding, a waiter approached. "Welcome back. Have you all decided?"

The group placed their orders, a mix of safe choices and new experiments.

Flamebread (again): Evan, Zack, Sia

Grilled Beast Ribs: Arlon, Lei

Seafood Platter: Mei, Carmen, Maria

Vegetable Stew: Carole, Alia, Leafa

Hunter's Roast: Pierre, Mirek, June@@novelbin@@

As the waiter left, Zack leaned forward. "So. Thoughts on the lesson?"

The table went quiet for a moment as they reflected.

"I thought the Kushis were just reclusive," Mirek said. "Didn't think they were nomads."

"And the Trilans," Alia added. "I didn't know their city was gone."

"It makes sense, though," Arlon said. "You don't see any of their structures around, and no one talks about them much."

"Still," Carmen muttered, "the Kri Folk are the strongest of the three."

She could easily see herself hiding as a shapeshifter.

That earned a few nods. But Sia didn't think the same.

"I think they are just cowards. A real warrior just goes out there and fights." But no one answered since they had already guessed she thought so.

"They can literally be anyone," Maria pointed out. "How do we know if we've met one before?"

"You don't," Arlon said simply.

A pause.

"That's terrifying," Carole finally said.

"Only if they mean harm," Maria added. "Cika didn't imply they were hostile, just secretive."

Lei leaned back. "And I guess it doesn't really matter unless they do something. Otherwise, they're just living like everyone else."

The conversation continued as their food arrived, shifting between theories, training, and casual banter.

And for now, at least, the mystery of the Kri Folk remained just that—a mystery.

Even though the players were merely guests and had only been at the academy for three days, the group had already settled into a comfortable rhythm.

They talked about everything—training, theories, the odd rumors floating around the academy.

And for the first time in a long while, Arlon was having fun.

Having people around to discuss magic and theory wasn't a luxury he'd ever really had.

The other players weren't lazy—not at all—but they simply didn't know what to learn.

For them, it had only been five months since they had arrived in this world, and for most of that time, they had believed it was all just a game.

They were strong, but they lacked the depth of knowledge that came with understanding Trion beyond just its mechanics.

Back in Istarra, Arlon had no one to talk to about these things.

In Kelta, he had Zephyrion. But a man like Zephyrion didn't have time for idle discussions.

Every conversation with him was sharp and efficient—less a discussion, more an order. There was no room for casual curiosity, only structured instruction.

But here?

Here, he had something different.

The students of Cardon weren't just warriors—they were scholars. People who researched, experimented, and questioned everything, just as he did.

And the players, though still learning, had started to think beyond just leveling up or improving their skills.

For the first time, Arlon had real conversation partners.

It was a new experience for him—one he hadn't realized he was missing.

Of course, that also meant something else.

It would end soon.

Arlon exhaled quietly, staring down at his plate as the conversation around him continued.

Nothing lasted forever.

And this, too, would pass.