I Don't Need To Log Out-Chapter 97: Forks and Titles

"You must be Arlon. I am Yu, nice to meet you," the feline-featured Beastwoman said, her voice calm but sharp, like the edge of a finely honed blade. Her eyes, a striking green, scrutinized him carefully.

"Nice to meet you," Arlon replied, his tone measured.

"It seems your hunt has concluded. Would you mind staying for a chat, Sir Arlon?"

"Not at all," he said.

At her gesture, the others headed back toward the campsite, leaving Arlon alone with Yu.

As the soft rustle of retreating footsteps faded, Yu turned to him. "Sir Arlon, I’ve been informed that you’re aware of my purpose here. So, I’ll be direct. I’m responsible for recruiting new members to our cause."

Arlon observed her carefully. From her poise and measured words, it was clear she was no mere recruiter. Her role in the anti-saviors must be significant.

"I see. It sounds like a role that requires trust and discernment. I’m honored to be considered," Arlon said.

Yu gave a faint smile. "Your achievements precede you. We’d greatly value someone of your caliber on our side. Your strength which even killed a Demon and your insight would be invaluable."

"You overestimate me," Arlon said with a faint shrug. "I’m just a guide. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask a few questions."

"By all means, ask," Yu replied, inclining her head slightly.

Arlon’s gaze didn’t waver. "I understand your cause to some extent. But right now, we need the saviors. Even when I defeated the Demon, I wasn’t alone—it required both my efforts and theirs. Without them, how do you plan to handle the Demons? I hope your answer isn’t something as simplistic as ’getting rid of the saviors comes first.’"

Yu chuckled softly. "You’re direct, Sir Arlon. I appreciate that. No, we’re not naive. We do need the saviors—for now."

"For now?" Arlon repeated. "That implies you have another way to deal with Demons. Am I wrong?"

"You’re perceptive," Yu said. "Indeed, there is another way. Have you ever heard of Aensite?"

Arlon shook his head. "No, I can’t say I have."

"It’s a mineral found in the Fey region," Yu explained. "It holds certain… properties that align with our goals."

Arlon narrowed his eyes. "The Fey region? Isn’t that under Keldar control? And what exactly does this mineral do?"

Yu hesitated, her tail flicking once behind her. "I’ve already said more than I should. You’re sharp enough to draw conclusions."

Arlon leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. "I understand your caution. But let me ask you this regardless of what it does: what will you use it for? If it’s solely to eliminate the Keldars, you’ll have my support. But if you intend to use it against the saviors, that’s another matter."

Yu’s ears twitched slightly. "That’s a decision I cannot make alone. My thoughts are my own, not representative of the anti-saviors as a whole."

Arlon exhaled quietly. "Let me give you a warning, then. If you use it against the saviors, they might defect to the Keldars’ side."

Yu’s gaze hardened. "Then they would become our enemies."

"This… seems like a fundamental disagreement," Arlon said, his voice steady. "But I still want to join."

---

Back at the restaurant, Arlon took in all the information from his copy the moment their connection was reestablished.

It seemed his plan was progressing smoothly. He had infiltrated the anti-saviors’ ranks through his copy without raising suspicions.

Yet, there was no immediate need to rush into their fold physically.

Arlon had other priorities. His training was far from complete, and there was the looming task of taking down another Demon.

But his plans changed after seeing how the other players in training developed themselves.

They were actually weaker than before since they wouldn’t use their skills unless necessary.

But, in one month, he was sure that they could fight against at least the Named Monsters. So, his target changed to another Demon.

And only after that he could go and meet the anti-saviors.

And the day ended, the weekend started.

By the end of the week, the weekend arrived, giving Arlon some much-needed time to focus on his personal growth. Spatial magic remained a persistent challenge.

After two days of failed attempts to open even the smallest rift, he found himself glaring at the spellbook.

"Maybe I should just punch space into submission," he muttered. Nyx, ever the attentive audience, chirped in what sounded suspiciously like laughter.

Swordsmanship, however, was another story. Arlon had made significant progress with Trion’s basic military swordsmanship.

"Not bad," he said to himself after executing a clean overhead slash during practice. "If I ever join a medieval army, I’ll fit right in."

But for Arlon, it wasn’t about mastering a single style. As a magic swordsman, his goal was integration: blending magic with physical combat seamlessly. His mage class had already surpassed his warrior class, thanks to Agema’s teachings. It was ironic—he’d spent over a decade as a warrior, yet his mage abilities were now his stronger suit.

"I should just rename myself ’Arlon the Irony,’" he joked to Nyx, who responded by tilting her head in what could only be described as the dragon equivalent of a smirk.

By the end of the week, he had managed to learn Cleave, his first warrior ability since starting his new training. It was basic but effective. He had bigger plans, though. This was just the foundation.

During the quiet hours, Arlon also dedicated time to Nyx. The little dragon had proven to be intelligent, understanding spoken commands and even showing signs of attempting speech.

"Nyx, say ’Arlon.’ It’s easy," he encouraged, pointing at himself.

"Arr... arr..." Nyx started, her little snout wrinkling with effort.

Arlon leaned in, hopeful.

"Arrogant!" Nyx chirped triumphantly.

Arlon blinked. "No... Arlon. Say Arlon."

Nyx stared at him, unblinking. "Arrogant."

"You’re doing this on purpose," Arlon grumbled, though he couldn’t hide the smirk tugging at his lips.

Speech progress aside, Nyx’s leveling remained a concern. Arlon could see her experience bar hovering near zero.

The dragon needed to defeat other existences or rigorous training to grow stronger. Otherwise, his development had its limits. But for now, Nyx would have to wait.

"One day, Nyx," Arlon said, ruffling the soft scales on her head. "You’ll be out there with me. But for now, it’s just us and these long, unproductive conversations."

Nyx chirped again, this time seemingly proud of her earlier word choice.

"Arrogant," she repeated, before curling into a ball on his bed.

Arlon sighed. "At least you’re consistent."

The weekend passed with sword training, failed attempts at spatial magic, and dragon lessons. Arlon had a long way to go, but for now, his path was clear.

---

The weekend ended, ushering in a new week. For the players, it was time to trade swords and magic for books and etiquette lessons.

The mornings were dedicated to history, while the afternoons became a crash course in proper behavior.

Since they were from Earth, most of them already had a handle on basic etiquette. "We know how to eat with forks and knives, okay?" Evan had declared on the first day.

But this wasn’t about forks and knives.

What the players didn’t know was that their lessons served a deeper purpose. The anti-saviors’ influence among the Trionians was growing, and appearances mattered.

If the players came across as unrefined or dismissive, it could fuel resentment and create issues with Trion’s higher-ups.

And so, the lessons began.

Arlon felt like he was back in high school. Except, this time, there were no lockers, no pep rallies, and definitely no after-school parties.

Well, at least I don’t have to do homework, he thought.

Except for Evan and Carmen, who were literal high schoolers, the rest of the group had all graduated college. Arlon, however, hadn’t.

It wasn’t a sore subject for him, but the others often shared fond memories of their college days. This left Arlon feeling a bit out of place.

He’d joke about it, but deep down, he did feel a twinge of regret for missing that chapter of life.

They still had fun during the classes like classmates. Zack even tried to disrupt the lessons a few times, getting scolded by their history teacher.

Of course, this wasn’t a continuous thing. The history teacher wasn’t even a teacher. He was a historian working as an administrator.

So they didn’t want to overwork him and listened attentively.

Arlon, for his part, already knew most of what was being taught. He used the time to secretly practice spatial magic, sketching runes in the air while pretending to jot down notes. He wasn’t fooling anyone, though.

"You’re not taking notes," June whispered one day.

"I’m mentally digesting," Arlon replied without looking up.

"Mental indigestion, maybe," she shot back, smirking.

The afternoons brought etiquette lessons, which were a mixed bag. For example, they learned the proper way to address Trionian leaders.

"Why does everyone call him Lord Zephyrion?" Maria asked during one lesson.

"Because he’s the ruler," the instructor explained patiently. "Not calling him ’Lord’ signifies that you reject his authority."

"So, if we just want to annoy him, we drop the ’Lord’?" Evan said with a grin.

"Yes," the instructor replied flatly, "and then you deal with the consequences. They won’t be pleasant."

They also covered dining etiquette. While the basics of using tableware weren’t new, the details were intricate.

"Why are there four forks?" Lei whispered to others during the lesson.

"Maybe one’s for stabbing people who don’t respect Lord Zephyrion," Zack replied under his breath.

But the real test came when it was time for measurements.

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The group was fitted for their outfits for the upcoming ball—a celebration of the Demon’s defeat. While some found the process exciting, others saw it as a nightmare. Enjoy new adventures from novelbuddy

"Evan, stand still!" the tailor snapped, trying to pin a hem as the young player fidgeted.

"I’m not used to standing still for so long," Evan protested.

"It’s not a skill check, Evan," Pierre said dryly. "Just stand there."

Meanwhile, Maria was thoroughly enjoying herself. "Do you think they’ll have gowns with magical embellishments? Maybe something that sparkles!"

Arlon groaned internally. The idea of formalwear was the least appealing part of the celebration.

By the end of the day, everyone was drained. "I’d rather fight a Demon than sit through another afternoon of etiquette," Zack said as they made their way to the restaurant.

"Careful what you wish for," Arlon muttered, his mind already back on training.

And with that, the first day of the second week ended. While it hadn’t been physically grueling, they only had two days before the event.