I Don't Need To Log Out

"I wonder why we were called here."

"Shut it. We'll find out soon enough."

"Huh? You dare talk down to me? Don't forget—I'm number seven, while you're only number eight."

"Hmph! A single rank doesn't mean much. It's been almost a year since our strength was last measured. I've grown far stronger than you."

"Oh yeah? Want to put that to the test? I'd be more than happy to kick your ass right here."

The tension crackled in the air as the two figures, neither fully human nor entirely beast, locked eyes in a battle of wills.

Their auras flared slightly, a prelude to an imminent clash—until a sharp, commanding voice cut through the room.

"Enough."

The words belonged to a tall, elegant Beastman woman—Carla, the ever-composed secretary of Lord Asef.

Her golden eyes flicked between the two quarrelers with a silent warning.

"Lord Asef has arrived."

Instantly, all bickering ceased. The shift was immediate as if an unseen force had snuffed out the rising flames of conflict.

They were seated in a vast, circular chamber, a high-ceilinged space dimly illuminated by eerie red lanterns lining the walls.

A massive, elongated table dominated the center of the room.

At one end of the table, seated in the corner chair, was Asef.

No one dared meet his gaze. His crimson eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, radiated an oppressive authority.

His mere presence made the air feel heavier, like an invisible pressure bearing down on the room. Carla stood behind him, ever watchful.

The twelve seats along the sides of the table were nearly all occupied—eleven Demons sat in ominous silence, their forms varying in shape and size, each exuding a dangerous aura.

One seat remained empty.

But not the one expected.

Draco was gone now, yet his chair had already been claimed. The vacant seat belonged to someone else.

Asef's voice was calm but carried a weight that demanded attention. "Carla," he said without turning his head. "Where is Syme?"

Syme—the second strongest among the Demons.

Carla responded immediately. "She said she needed to contact the Mimes in Kelta, so she couldn't attend. But I'll be sending her a recording."

Asef gave a slow nod. "As long as she does not fail." His words were quiet, yet they sent a chill down the spines of everyone present.

A small figure suddenly spoke up, his voice carrying a childlike tone despite the malice laced within it. "Hey, Carla… What's this thing doing in Draco's chair?"

The 'thing' in question was a man. A human.

He sat there, composed yet visibly out of place, surrounded by creatures far beyond him in power. Yet there was no fear in his expression.

Only sharp observation, as if he were studying them as much as they were studying him.

This was Gellard—the magic swordsman from Arlon's past life, the one who had slain the black magician in the Great Forest.

Carla answered smoothly. "He is our new member. I expect you all to get along with him."

"New member?" another Demon scoffed. His voice dripped with disdain. "Does he even have the qualifications to be here?"

The tension began to rise again—until Asef spoke.

"Enough."

The room fell into immediate silence.

His next words came slowly, dangerously. "Are you questioning my decisions?"

A suffocating force filled the chamber, heavy and crushing. No one dared to answer.

Asef let the silence hang for a moment longer before giving his final order.@@novelbin@@

"Begin the meeting, Carla."

---

"It has been a while, Miss Nora," Pierre said with a polite smile.

Nora raised an eyebrow. "Has it? It's only been four days since I last saw you."

Pierre hesitated. "Well… you're right. But it felt long."

She let out a small sigh. "You all ready to go back? I hope no one failed anything."

"Heh! Too easy!" Zack puffed out his chest. "I could do it three more times without breaking a sweat."

Carole smirked. "Weren't you the one pacing back and forth, anxious about the results just a few hours ago?"

Zack's confidence cracked instantly. "I wasn't anxious! Just… curious."

"Uh-huh. Sure," Carole said, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," Pierre added, patting Zack on the back with an exaggerated look of pity.

Nora chuckled at their antics before nodding. "Well, it seems you all are in one piece. Let's head back, then."

With a wave of her hand, a portal identical to the one they had used to arrive appeared before them. One by one, the players stepped through, disappearing into the swirling light.

Just as Nora was about to follow, a tiny figure popped into existence before her.

A Fairy, barely the size of a human hand, hovered in the air, arms crossed. Her piercing gaze made it clear she wasn't here for casual small talk.

"Are you working for Zephyrion?" she asked.

Nora immediately recognized her. "Professor Cika," she greeted respectfully. "Yes, I am. We are grateful that you accepted our request. I trust our students didn't cause you any trouble?"

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Cika shrugged. "No, no trouble… but I did notice something interesting. That kid Zephyrion seems to be up to something again."

Nora offered a diplomatic smile. "Lord Zephyrion said he will personally visit you as soon as he has time. He wants to thank you in person."

Cika snorted. "Yeah, yeah. He always says that, but I've yet to see him set foot here. Don't worry about it. But if he does show up, tell him to bring some decent gifts this time."

She turned slightly, muttering to herself. "Orlen is still waiting on him too… Something about an overdue sparring match."

Nora's smile didn't waver. "I will be sure to deliver the message."

With that, she stepped through the portal, leaving the Fairy to grumble to herself about unreliable old men and their empty promises.

---

As the swirling light of the portal faded, the players found themselves standing in an open clearing behind the Citadel in Kelta.

The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of flowers, but the atmosphere was quiet—too quiet. It was a perfect spot, hidden from prying eyes.

Waiting for them were two figures: Lady Rael, standing tall and elegant as ever, and Ben, who observed the group with his usual calculating gaze.

But the real spectacle was nestled in Lady Rael's arms—a small dragon with dark purple scales streaked with pink highlights and gleaming golden eyes.

"Nyx!" Zack grinned, stepping forward confidently. "So you came to meet me, huh? I knew we had a bond—"

With a delighted chirp, Nyx spread her tiny wings and launched herself into the air.

She flapped once, then twice, making a beeline straight for—"Arlon!" Nyx squeaked happily, zooming past Zack without a second glance.

Zack's outstretched arms froze midair as Nyx latched onto Arlon's shoulder, nuzzling against his neck like an affectionate pet. The silence stretched.

"…I see how it is," Zack muttered, lowering his arms with a defeated sigh. "Betrayed by my own dragon buddy before the friendship even started."

Carole patted his back sympathetically. "Hey, at least he acknowledged your existence… in a way."

Nyx, still curled around Arlon, suddenly lifted her head and puffed out her chest. "Nyx… talk!" she declared proudly.

A collective pause followed.

Lady Rael gave a soft chuckle. "She's been practicing while you were gone."

Nyx nodded vigorously, then turned to Zack with wide eyes. "Zack… dumb."

The clearing exploded with laughter as Zack sputtered. "Okay, WHO taught her that?!"