I Don't Need To Log Out-Chapter 274: Floor 99

The moment the countdown reached zero, the world shifted, and he entered floor 99.

Arlon landed hard, his body barely responding. His breaths were ragged, his vision blurred, and his legs screamed with each step.

His body wasn’t just tired—it was barely functional.

And then, the monster appeared.

A deep, guttural rumble echoed through the floor, followed by a sensation of crushing weight.

The air itself thickened.

Arlon’s instincts flared—this was not just another enemy.

The figure before him was colossal, its presence nearly suffocating.

It had no defined shape at first—just a swirling, pulsing mass of obsidian mist, shifting in and out of reality.

Then, slowly, it began to solidify.

A form emerged.

It was humanoid—barely.

Towering, at least four meters tall, its body was wrapped in something resembling armor, but the material writhed as if alive.

Jagged protrusions jutted from its limbs, each pulsing with eerie red veins.

Its head was elongated, a crown of shifting spikes radiating an aura of pure destruction.

And in its hands—

A greatsword.

No, not a greatsword. A blade made of pure void, devouring the light around it.

The monster raised its head, empty sockets burning with something deeper than malice.

Arlon activated Eyes of KET** instinctively.

And his stomach dropped.

***

[???]

[Level: 308]

[Race: Voidbound Tyrant]

[???]

[???]

[???]

***

Nothing.

Arlon could see its level and race, but everything else was obscured.

Even the feature of the monster he couldn’t see was obscured like the [Weakness] tab that should have been there or the information screen made of jumbled up signs in the Tower.

He had never seen anything like this. Even against monsters far stronger than him, Eyes of KET** had almost always shown something.

Even if it was fragmented, even if it was incomplete, like the time he fought against the boss on floor 90.

Arlon also realized how big the universe was once again.

Apart from humanoid and non-humanoid aliens, there were also these kinds of races.

Voidbound Tyrant.

His grip tightened around his blade.

The creature tilted its head slightly as if considering him.

Then, it moved.

Arlon barely saw it.

A streak of darkness, faster than thought—

He dodged.

His instincts saved him, but his body couldn’t keep up. The void blade scraped his ribs, and an immediate tearing sensation shot through him.

It wasn’t just a cut.

Something else was happening.

Arlon staggered, his balance faltering. His left side felt… hollow.

Like something had been taken from him.

His title’s skill didn’t protect him against this first attack of the enemy.

His regeneration didn’t kick in.

His passive healing was gone.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

He had faced death countless times, but this—this was different.

This was something that didn’t belong in the Tower.

No.

It didn’t belong anywhere.

The Voidbound Tyrant turned toward him again, its hollow sockets fixated on him, unfeeling.

It raised its blade once more.

And the battle continued.

---

Survival.

That was all Arlon could think about.

The Voidbound Tyrant moved faster than its size suggested, its blade carving through the space between them effortlessly.

Arlon dodged, but every movement felt like tearing through lead.

His body hurt.

Every time the monster’s blade grazed him, something was lost.

His stamina. His mana. Even his senses dulled.

His vision blurred further, colors fading into muted shades of gray.

Arlon struck back, aiming for the openings he could barely perceive—

His blade connected.

The force should’ve been enough to sever a limb—

But the Tyrant barely reacted.

The armor shifted, absorbing the impact like liquid before hardening again.

This was what one level difference after level 300 corresponded to.

Arlon gritted his teeth.

This wasn’t working.

Think.

His mind was sluggish, exhaustion weighing him down.

Potions.

He had one left.

If he didn’t use it, he would die.

Arlon gritted his teeth and downed the last one, forcing his body to keep moving.

He had to outlast this thing.

If leveling up wasn’t an option, if his body wouldn’t recover naturally, then all he could do was push forward.

The Tyrant moved again.

Arlon met it head-on.

That was when he saw it. There was something like a core inside the armor.

And it was connected to the void sword it was using.

---

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Seconds felt like eternities.

Arlon had never been pushed this far before. Not even against the Floor 98 boss.

His vision swam, and his body barely obeyed his commands.

He was running out of time.

The Tyrant lifted its blade again, void energy crackling around it.

Arlon had tried different kinds of magic on this monster.

His strongest spells didn’t work on it, let alone time magic or spatial magic.

But, while trying the elemental attributes, he realised that light magic worked against this monster.

But "worked" didn’t mean Arlon was strong enough to use a light spell that could damage it.

All he realized was that it defended against light magic.

He thought back to the spell Agema used to light up a tunnel once.

He wondered if he could win against this monster if he could use that kind of spells.

Well, he didn’t need to use one.

He was a magic swordsman. So, he didn’t need to use light magic with the light attribute he wasn’t accustomed to.

All he needed was to imbue light magic into his sword and slash its core with it.

And if that wasn’t something vital to the monster, he would die anyway.

Now was the time to act.

Arlon clenched his fist.

This was it.

He had to finish it now.

The moment the blade fell, Arlon moved.

A last-second sidestep. A desperate maneuver.

The void blade missed—barely.

Arlon’s blade, however, pierced through.

With the light attribute imbued on the sword, and with his Mana Surge active, it passed right through the Tyrant’s core.

For the first time—

The monster reacted.

Its form convulsed, the shadows unraveling.

It let out a sound—not a roar, not a scream, but something deeper.

Something ancient.

And then—

Silence.

The body collapsed inward, consumed by its own void.

The battle was over.