I Don't Need To Log Out

Back in Esia, at Osgar's Workshop.

The familiar scent of burning metal and oil filled the air as Arlon stepped inside the dimly lit workshop.

Tools were scattered across the wooden workbenches, and half-finished weapons gleamed under the flickering lanterns.

Behind one of the tables, hunched over a chunk of metal, Osgar barely looked up as Arlon entered.

"Hah, you're back in one piece."

Arlon smirked. "Yeah. We handled the threats. There won't be any more issues around here."

He had come alone—just to report. There was no need for the others to come along since there was no reward waiting for them anyway.

Or so he had thought.

Osgar grunted, wiping his hands on a rag before reaching into his pile of scraps.

"Here, take this for your troubles."

Arlon instinctively caught the object tossed his way. It was a dull, irregularly shaped metal piece—something that looked more like raw ore than an actual material.

His brows furrowed as he turned it over in his hands.

"What is this? I've never seen this kind of metal before."

Osgar chuckled, stroking his thick beard. "Hehe. I've heard that the anti-saviors were looking for these, so I figured I'd find some too. Can you pass it along to Zephyrion?"

Arlon's frown deepened. He looked at the metal, then back at Osgar.

"Didn't you just say 'take this for your troubles'?"

Osgar blinked innocently. "Did I?"

A beat of silence passed before the old Dwarf let out a laugh.

"Ah, sorry about that. What I meant to say was—'May I trouble you with this?'"

He then made a ridiculous, dumb smiling face—one that looked entirely out of place on someone of his age and stature.

Arlon felt a shiver run down his spine. An old Dwarf with a long beard making that kind of expression was just… wrong.

Then, he looked at the metal. There was a high probability that this was Aensite.

Without another word, he snatched the metal piece and shoved it into his inventory, choosing not to prolong the conversation any further.

"Sigh... I will give it to him."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Then why are you still here? I need to work on my Controller."

With a sigh, Arlon left the workshop.

---

"We talked about sticking together, but that won't always be possible. We need to level up soon," Arlon said, his tone firm.

The group fell silent, listening intently.

"Of course, I know that. But don't we always need to level up?" June responded, tilting her head slightly.

Arlon crossed his arms. "We need to reach Level 150 fast. No—I am almost there anyway. You all need to reach 150."

A murmur passed through the group.

After killing Syme, who had been well over Level 200, Arlon had shot up to Level 140.

Thinking about it now, he felt a twinge of guilt.

Even though Syme was a Keldar, voluntarily dying after surpassing Level 200 was something he himself wouldn't have been able to do.

That gap between Level 199 and 200 was more than just a number—it was a mountain.

To throw all of that away…

Arlon pushed the thought aside. Now wasn't the time to dwell on the past.

June, unaware of his momentary distraction, continued, "What happens at Level 150?"

Arlon refocused. "I need to go to the Samera Marsh soon. There's something I have to take care of there, and I can only bring one of you. No, I can only bring June with me."

The reason was simple, she knew his secret. So, he could move with her. Also, Arlon believed that she could help with Agema as well as the other way around.

"If you were Level 150, you'd be able to start title quests there, which would make you even stronger in your classes."

A brief silence followed before Lei spoke up. "Titles? There are titles here too?"

Arlon nodded. "Yes. Everyone can earn one title to enhance their class. But you need to qualify for it first."

Lei exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. "I see. But that doesn't matter. We don't intend to let you widen the gap anyway."

She was the one speaking, but the way the rest of the group nodded in agreement made it clear—they all felt the same.

Arlon smirked. Explore hidden tales at My Virtual Library Empire

Good.

"Then, after we visit Istarra and Oceina, we'll split into groups and get to work."

---

The road to Istarra wasn't long.

Since they had been hunting near the frontlines, Istarra was actually closer than Kelta.

Because of that, they arrived before nightfall.

The sky was painted in soft hues of orange and gold as the sun dipped toward the horizon. Shadows stretched across the dirt road, and the air carried the faint scent of earth and distant fires from the town ahead.

From the outside, Istarra looked like nothing more than a small town, its modest stone walls enclosing a population of less than a thousand Trionians.

But despite its humble size, it was always bustling with activity.

Thousands of players passed through its gates every day, using it as a hub before heading toward their next objective.

As the military carriage rolled toward the town's entrance, the two familiar guards stationed by the gate were deep in conversation.

They had been there since launch day—one of the few NPCs players remembered from the start of their journey.

At first, they didn't notice the approaching carriage. But when their eyes finally landed on the military insignia on its side, their expressions shifted from casual boredom to rigid alertness.

Even though they were clearly uneasy, they stepped forward. Military carriages had to be inspected—no exceptions.

Their hands hovered near their weapons, though neither of them seemed eager to actually use them.

Before they could say anything, however, the carriage stopped on its own.

The doors swung open, and the players stepped out.

Arlon had already anticipated this situation.

Before the guards could raise any objections, a figure emerged from within the town.

"They're with me."

It was Arlon the Guide.

The guards immediately relaxed at the sight of him. He was a trusted figure here.

June raised an eyebrow. "You really do have connections everywhere, huh?"

She was obviously mocking him since she could now see through this facade.

Arlon said nothing, stepping forward as his doppelganger handled the explanation.

He had sent it ahead of time for this exact purpose.

There was no actual ban on players entering Istarra—anyone could walk in freely. But Arlon didn't just want to enter.

He wanted to enter with the military carriage.

And more importantly, he wanted Arlon the Guide to be seen here.

Now that his real face had changed, nobody in Istarra would recognize him. The best way to maintain his influence was to move as Arlon the Guide.

But if his Guide persona appeared after they arrived, the players might start questioning things.

So, he had staged the encounter carefully.

By making it seem like Arlon the Guide had already been here for his own separate mission, it looked natural for him to assist them in getting into town.

And with that, his next move was clear.

Now, he could switch places with his doppelganger and move freely within Istarra.