I Don't Need To Log Out-Chapter 315: When Silence Ends

The wind moved with a weight it hadn't carried before.

Arlon and June ran through the tall grass that lined the northern fields of Trion, their footsteps barely brushing the earth, their forms cutting through the air like blades.

They didn't speak.

There was no need.

Not now.

They were too close.

This region—they'd never come here before. Not in their travels, not in their previous lives.

In fact, Arlon had intentionally avoided this place his last time through. Something about it had always given him pause.

Not fear. Just an understanding.

He wouldn't survive if he came here.

So he hadn't.

And maybe that was why, when the time came to search for Asef, when all the Demons were dead and the smoke of the last battlefield had cleared, Arlon's thoughts had gone here.

To the place he hadn't dared to tread.

The place he'd left untouched.

Because that was where Asef would be.

Not hiding.

Waiting.

He hadn't known for sure. But as they closed the distance—step by step, hill by hill—Arlon had felt it.

A pull.

Not magical, but certain.

Like a string connecting two anchors, being drawn tighter with every movement.

And then the sensation struck like thunder behind his ribs.

There.

That was it.

A presence as dense as stone, as sharp as lightning.

They veered.

There was no command given—June followed Arlon without question. Without hesitation. She trusted his instincts now more than anything else.

Even if she didn't fully understand why she was here.

She wasn't weak, but neither was she arrogant. The odds of her being truly needed in this fight were slim.

Arlon could likely handle it.

But then again… maybe not.

And so she ran beside him.

Not questioning aloud what they both must have been wondering.

Until now.

Why had she come?

Was it for support?

To be a safeguard in case of traps?

To hold off others?

Her mind couldn't decide.

And the silence between them only made the question louder.

But they didn't have to wait for the answer.

The field opened.

The wind changed.

And there, at the far end of a flat, dusty clearing, stood two figures.

A man in a knight's armor, though only the helmet remained. His chest was bare, as if the rest had been discarded for mobility or symbolism.

He stood with his arms at his sides, his posture straight and patient.

Red eyes gleamed through the narrow slit of his visor, unblinking.

Focused.

On Arlon.

Beside him stood a woman—tall, poised, and lethal in stillness.

Her tiger-striped tail flicked slowly behind her, a stark contrast to the taut readiness in her frame.

She was a Beastman, that much was obvious, and of the same race as Zephyrion.

But her aura?

It was colder.

Sharper.

Gone was the professional suit, the pencil skirt, and crisp blazer. What she wore now was simpler: flexible battle garb, dark and sleek, designed for movement and war.

She wasn't here for negotiation.

Neither of them was.

June's eyes narrowed. She didn't need words. The moment her gaze locked with the tiger woman's, she knew.

This is my fight.

A breath passed between them all.

Then Asef spoke, his voice carrying easily across the wind.

"You're finally here."

He didn't sound angry.

Just… impatient.

As if this moment had been long overdue. As if everything leading to it had been a chore.

Arlon slowed his steps, stopping just short of the open middle of the field.

He looked at Asef—no fear, no bravado.

Just clarity.

There were words he could say. Words he'd once thought might matter.

He remembered the promise he'd made to Syme—the second Demon—the one who had died with a final hope that Arlon might do more than just fight.

So Arlon spoke.

"Why are you on this planet?" he asked, voice steady but hard. "What do you want here?"

The wind picked up slightly.

But Asef didn't flinch.

His red eyes narrowed slightly in amusement, or perhaps disdain.

"There is no need for this talk," he said flatly.

His voice was different from before. Not mocking. Not cruel.

Just tired of the delay.

"Let's fight."

No fanfare. No grand speeches.

Just the truth.

That was all he'd come for.

June and Carla moved first—without a signal, without hesitation.

Both of them veered sideways, running along the arc of the field and disappearing into the tree line that framed the northern edge of the plains.

Arlon didn't turn to watch them go.

He already knew.

They would handle each other.

His focus was only on Asef now.

A moment passed in silence.

Asef tilted his head slightly. "You're stronger than I thought," he said, almost conversational. "Even Reeb underestimated you."

"I wasn't trying to impress him."

"You didn't. You killed him."

There was no bitterness. No sadness.

Just a fact.

Arlon didn't respond. Instead, he opened his inventory and took out his sword, Void Edge.

His hand slipped to the hilt of his sword—slowly, like a man opening the final chapter of a book he'd read once before but never truly understood.

The ground beneath them felt oddly still.

The wind stopped.

The world waited.

And then—everything began.

---

The trees thinned, the air shifted, and both women stopped without another word.

They hadn't gone far from the field—just enough to put distance between themselves and the two monsters who would soon tear the sky apart. But not so far that they wouldn't feel it.

Even now, the atmosphere behind them simmered with tension.

Asef and Arlon hadn't even clashed yet, but the weight of their coming battle settled like pressure in the air.

The kind of pressure that made the hair on the back of one's neck stand, made instinct scream even before the first strike.

But June didn't look back.

Her eyes were fixed ahead—on the tiger-striped Beastman who stood with effortless composure in the narrow clearing between two trees.

Her tail swayed slowly, too slowly for the tension she should've been feeling. Her posture was loose. Relaxed.

Unconcerned.

That was the most insulting part.

"You're a Trionian," June said, voice quiet but sharp. "Why did you change sides?"

She didn't ask with outrage. There was no righteous fury in her tone. Just a cold curiosity. Trying to understand.

Carla gave a soft laugh—more of an exhale through her nose than anything else.

"You're not a Trionian," she said, her voice cool and dismissive. "You wouldn't understand."

It was enough of an answer to tell June she wouldn't get more.

Not yet.

And maybe not ever.

But that was fine.

This wasn't about philosophy. Not anymore.