I Don't Need To Log Out

The room was quiet, save for the ever-present hum of mana-infused crystal lights above.

The Magus Council looked the same as always.

Birna and Ejen sat at their usual seats. The council room, vast and solemn, held no official hierarchy aside from Birna herself.

She was the council leader—the only one whose authority was recognized by structure. But that didn't mean the others were equal.

As it was in every corner of space, the older Maguses believed themselves more experienced, more worthy.

In Trion, where people could live far longer as they leveled up, age meant more than wisdom—it meant power.

And in a place like the Magus Council, that meant everything. Those who had watched centuries pass sat closest to Birna, unofficially claiming those seats as theirs.

Not everyone thought the same. Not every Magus cared for such games.

But at this point, not sitting close to Birna despite one's age wasn't seen as humility—it was seen as rejection. Refusing power. Stepping aside.

Ejen sat beside Birna on one side. That alone spoke volumes.

All the seats were filled. At least the ones closer to the Birna.

The ones further away, ones for the younger generation, were mostly empty.

Another empty chair on the other side of Birna belonged to Merl—Shirl's father. Its absence lingered in the air like silence after thunder.

Asmond was also there, sitting away from Birna. He was part of the younger generation and, naturally, seated further back.

Council members frequently wondered how he could be here while all the other administrators in Kelta worked without vacation.

He kept his expression still as he listened to Birna speak, his gaze steady, his posture disciplined.

Birna's voice carried over the chamber.

"It's time," she said. "Today, we go to one of the smaller anti-savior hideouts. Together. As the Magus Council."

A murmur passed through the room. Then, one of the old maguses leaned forward, his voice calm but pointed.

"Why are we attacking an anti-savior hideout? That's the business of the Trionian government, not ours."

The words had barely landed before Birna stood.

She slammed her bare fist onto the table. It shattered beneath her hand.

Wood cracked, splinters scattered, and silence took hold.

Her eyes scanned the room.

"We are all Trionian," she said sharply. "So this is our issue."

Her voice was colder now. "And this is how the government is handling it—by sending us."

She paused.

"Aren't we, Maguses, the strongest force the Trionian government has?"

The old man turned his face away, saying nothing.

But this entire exchange was a performance. A farce.

Ejen's thoughts drifted back to the conversation he had had with Birna just the other day.

"Unfortunately, the information about Asmond is correct," the man with the hood told him and Birna.

He was talking about the information Arlon gave them through Zephyrion.

So, Asmond was really a traitor.

They had no time to waste. They had to take over the headquarters of the anti-saviors. That decision had come from Zephyrion himself.

But moving the entire Magus Council to the HQ wasn't simple.

If they did that, Asmond—and perhaps others hiding in plain sight—would alert the anti-saviors, hide every trace, and erase the evidence.

So Birna had crafted a different path.

They would pretend.

They would move on a smaller hideout first, make it seem like a one-time operation, nothing more.

But right after that, they would go for the headquarters.

Meanwhile, someone else would take care of one of the three heads of the anti-saviors—the one who used the anti-saviors as a mask while working to harm Trion by aiding the Keldars.

And that someone else was Sheila, the one Arlon met at the Banquet together with Birna and Ejen.

In the chaos, the truth would surface.

And the ones working with Asmond would reveal themselves.

Birna had said it clearly.

Asmond, being one of the younger members, would never speak directly. He would use the older ones like puppets. He'd let them voice his doubts, carry his arguments, and block the decisions.

And when they did, they'd bring themselves down with him.

Ejen's mind returned to the present.

He saw the signs. The plan was working. Some of the old council members were clearly unsettled by the decision.

Not all of them were involved—not all were puppets. Some genuinely believed this wasn't their fight.

But Birna had ways to distinguish between them.

Even if she wouldn't go after the ones who were merely stubborn, she would still whip them into shape.

The Magus Council was part of Trion. And Trion had no separation between races, no divisions.

If Trion was in danger, then it was their problem.

They had to know that.

---

In the meantime, somewhere on the other side of Trion…

"Has he passed through the door?" asked the man with red eyes, his voice calm, but carrying a weight that silenced the room.

"Yes, my lord," Carla replied without hesitation. The ever-reliable Beastman woman stood tall, her hands clasped behind her back in practiced formality.

She was Asef's secretary and among the few trusted to speak directly with him. "We are barely able to hold him back from charging straight to the front lines."

Asef's eyes gleamed with something between amusement and anticipation. "Why are you holding him back?" he said, a faint smirk playing at the edge of his lips. "Let him run free."

"As you wish, my lord," Carla said, bowing slightly. Her voice remained steady, but even she couldn't fully hide the unease beneath her calm.

She knew what letting him loose meant. And so did Asef.

With this new addition to the Keldar army, how would the balance of the fight shift?

Even Asef didn't seem to know for sure. But he was eager to find out.

---

The Gamers guild, now including Carmen, Maria, and Evan, was in the middle of another fight.

The moment they logged in, they had to fight.

And when they logged out, the soldiers in Trion took over their places.

It had been two weeks since the big secret about the game was revealed.

The secret that this was not a game.

With the chance to become a real hero in another world, the number of players had increased instead of dropping.

Of course, many quit immediately.

But to most, this didn't feel like killing.

They were playing a game—while saving real people in the meantime.

Obviously, Earth was in chaos during all of this.

Beyond the technology itself, the existence of life on another planet had been one of the most sought-after truths for decades.

And it had arrived in the form of a game.

Now, even scientists and professors were logging in, just to speak with the natives of Trion.

But right now, there was war on nearly every front.

And the players, being considerate as always, didn't want to leave it to the soldiers—who could actually die during the day—so they handled the Keldars themselves.

Especially the Gamers. They were seen as the current number one force in this war, and the ones closest to becoming true heroes.

Everyone wanted to join them, but they didn't accept any applications.

So, people believed they needed to at least be on the leaderboard to qualify.

Of course, they were just wrong.