I Don't Need To Log Out Chapter 317: Defeat

Arlon couldn't believe what he saw.

Asef's entire information screen was blank.

This could only an one thing.

Asef was stronger than him.

Not equal—stronger. And in this world, after level 300, every single level was a gap. A wall.

Arlon was exactly level 302.

And he'd fought a level 310 existence before. But he could see its data back then.

But this?

This was beyond that.

And yet—Arlon didn't feel completely outmatched.

That was probably because of his title.

He was, on paper, as strong as a level 450.

"In na only," he reminded himself.

He still couldn't even begin to comprehend what a level 400 felt like, let alone 450.

He'd always wondered if his title was too much of a cheat. Too unbalanced.

Now, he understood.

Thanks to the existence levels, thanks to the layers of power above the system itself… his title was just a helpful tool. Not a broken one.

Useful. But not enough to win on its own.

Arlon gripped his sword tightly.

He dashed forward.

Their blades collided again—no delay, no testing range.

Just force eting force.

The shock this ti shook the ground beneath them, uprooting so of the closer trees.

They didn't flinch.

Arlon didn't hold back.

He activated every ability imdiately.

No playing around. No probing.

His swordsmanship, trained through countless battles and refined during his training ti, took over.

It wasn't a style gifted by so hidden master or ancient scroll—it was Trion's military swordsmanship.

But it was enough for a magic swordsman.

Clean. Direct. Effective.

Asef t each strike with composure. Not lazy. Just effortless.

The two of them looked like they were taking a walk beside the sea.

No flashy explosions.

No spells lighting up the horizon.

No ground explosion after each clash.

Just precision—silent, lethal.

Still, anyone watching from a distance would see nothing but flickers of motion and scattered afterimages.

Arlon cast Haste on himself.

Then, a new addition—Slow, targeted directly at Asef.

It worked.

Sort of.

Yes, thanks to the research he did on the one-ti use item, he could now use the slow on a single target.

Agema's book also contributed.

It was only as effective as the opponent's defense allowed it, though.

Asef didn't freeze, he didn't stumble, or his motion didn't slow down to a crawling speed.

But his speed shifted.

Only slightly.

But at their level, slightly was enough.

Any sudden change in speed—whether acceleration or deceleration—was dangerous.

Timing had to be recalculated. Muscle mory couldn't be relied on. Instinct betrayed instead of saved.

Asef had to adjust.

Of course, at this level, that wasn't a big problem.

Until Asef readjusted to his new speed, he could calculate how to counter any attack coming from Arlon.

This would only slow him down a tiny bit more.

Arlon didn't give him the ti to readjust, though.

He activated Mana Surge.

And then, he added ti magic into the mix.

The Void Edge glowed, wrapped in dense white-blue mana. Ti-imbued mana.

And then—he blinked.

Instantly to Asef's side.

He had been analyzing Asef's reaction for so ti now.

And Arlon knew that he could dodge this attack. But it was okay.

Arlon swung his sword to slash.

As expected, Asef moved.

He jumped back.

The perfect position.

Arlon slashed.

A horizontal arc. Standard. Predictable.

Except it wasn't.

A flash of pale-blue light stretched from the blade's edge and launched forward—a projectile.

To Asef, it looked like any other ranged slash. Mana-infused. Dangerous, but avoidable.

He shifted to dodge.

And then—

Pain.

His eyes widened. Blood sprayed from his arm.

He had already brought his sword up in reflex, barely reacting to the subtle wrongness in the air.

But it was too late.

The blade had hit him the mont it left Arlon's sword.

That was the feature of Ti Slash, his new fused ability.

Normally, Arlon's Slash sent an energy blade made of mana infused with whatever kind of attribute Arlon infused it with.

For example, he could send a Wind Blade if he infused his sword with wind mana and used Slash.

This ti, he had infused it with ti magic. So, the energy blade departed from his sword.

But it didn't travel to the target.

It arrived before it left.

An impossible attack.

The laws of causality were bent. Twisted.

A slash not in space, but in sequence.

Asef stepped back quickly, his breathing controlled, but his eyes sharper now.

Even with the Slow, he expected to dodge the energy blade.

But that attack had landed.

Luckily, he had used his arm to protect his chest.

Arlon watched him carefully.

Even now, after being hit by the Ti Slash, Asef didn't look angry.

His expression remained composed, unchanging behind the gleaming red visor of his helt. Like this was just another routine spar.

Of course, Arlon thought. Pain reduction. Sa as mine.

Both of them were under the effect of the Zeno system's automatic mitigations.

No matter how strong the blow, it wouldn't cause the kind of writhing agony one would expect—just a dull signal of injury, a notification in the back of the mind.

They were fighting under the sa rules. The sa conditions.

So why did it still feel like Asef wasn't taking this seriously?

Until now, Asef hadn't used any magic. Not even a hint of mana fluctuation from his body.

He wasn't a mage then?

Arlon had suspected that already. His movents, his posture—none of it matched the combat patterns of a spellcaster.

And his swordsmanship, while sharp, didn't feel that far above Arlon's own.

Was he hiding sothing?

Arlon adjusted his grip on the Void Edge.

And then—sothing shifted.

"I think I'll need to use my trump card," Asef said, his voice calm. Almost casual.

Arlon's muscles tensed.

He didn't wait.

The mont Asef's body began to tremble, Arlon blinked backward.

It wasn't a spell. Not yet. No incantation. No aura spike.

But the tremors grew stronger.

Asef's body began to shake violently, as if he were suppressing sothing that wanted to burst out.

It wasn't rage. It wasn't panic.

It was deliberate.

Like releasing a seal.

Arlon narrowed his eyes. He activated Eyes of KETA* again.

After receiving the letter "A" from Agema, his vision could pierce through most forms of spellcraft.

See through illusions, read the flow of high-level enchantnts, even dissect overlapping mana threads.

But now?

Nothing.

No threads. No spellcasting. No barrier.

This wasn't magic.

This was sothing else.

And then—

A burst.

Not a spell.

Not even an explosion in the traditional sense.

It was as if space folded and snapped at the sa ti. A collapse and a blast all in one.

Light surged outward from where Asef stood, and a concussive wave followed, slamming against the trees, the air, the very mana in the environnt.

Arlon's body was thrown back.

He caught himself mid-air, blinking again to avoid impact—but then he saw it.

A single glimpse, in the center of the smoke and rupture.

A face.

Only for a mont.

Just long enough for Arlon to recognize what he had suspected all along.

The truth behind Asef.

And then—

Red.

His vision bled red.

A notification chid at the edge of his awareness. Then another.

He glanced down instinctively.

His HP went all the way down.

Arlon was dead.