I Don't Need To Log Out-Chapter 75: Demon Hunt (1)

"I wonder why we were ordered to come here," one man muttered, his voice strained as he clambered over a jagged rock. It wasn’t a question directed at anyone in particular, just idle chatter as the team trudged up the inclined road.

"Don’t talk," the team leader barked, his tone stern. "Save your breath, or you’ll be gasping like a fish before we’re halfway up."

Despite the warning, the team members didn’t seem inclined to stop their chatter.

"I mean, seriously, why us?" another man asked, wiping sweat off his brow. "As far as I know, this was a direct order from Lord Zephyrion."

"Yeah, I heard that too. Apparently, Lady Rael delivered the message herself," a third chimed in, adjusting the straps of his gear. "Anything coming from her has to be a big deal, right?"

The conversation snowballed from there.

"But if it’s a treasure, shouldn’t Team A be here instead? I mean, they’ve got all the glory hogs with the flashy moves. We’re, what... Team C? The C must stand for ’Conveniently expendable.’"

"Maybe it’s not treasure," someone speculated. "What could be up here anyway? Magic beans? A lost civilization? A particularly scenic view for Zephyrion’s scrapbook?"

"Magic beans? Really? If they exist, you can bet Team A’s already planted them. And not even in the Poko Mountain and on a plain road."

The team leader groaned, his patience wearing thinner than the soles of their boots.

Without a word, he stepped closer to the last speaker, gave him a swift smack on the head, and scowled at the rest. "Enough. Zip it. We’re supposed to be professionals, not a traveling comedy troupe."

For a moment, blessed silence fell over the group—until someone dared to mutter, "I bet Team A never gets smacked on the head."

The team leader shot him a glare that could have melted the snowcaps.

---

Meanwhile, Arlon was making his own preparations. Zephyrion had entrusted him and Arlon the guide with a "secret task", or that was what he said to everyone else.

It would be revealed to everyone if he succeeded in defeating Draco.

Their departure from Kelta was uneventful, save for the curious stares directed at the carriage.

Most passersby wisely decided not to ask questions. The Sentinel’s Legacy Set worn by the copy likely played a part—it wasn’t every day you saw gear like that walking casually through the streets.

The copy carried a random sword that Arlon had used during a past tournament. Though it wasn’t legendary, it was more than sufficient for the Named Monsters they would face.

The road to Akise City was well-trodden, but its destination promised danger.

Situated close to Kelta, Akise was a natural vantage point for monitoring movements in and out of the larger city.

It made sense that Draco would position himself nearby, watching and waiting like a predator lurking just beyond sight.

But he wouldn’t get caught since Zephyrion would never leave Kelta.

The real Arlon traveled in relative comfort within a modest carriage provided by Zephyrion. "Relative comfort," of course, being a charitable term—the wheels creaked, the seats were lumpy, and the driver had a habit of whistling off-key tunes.

It had to be this way, otherwise they would attract attention.

Arlon sighed and muttered to himself, "Zephyrion really pulled out all the stops, didn’t he? What’s next, a budget sword from the bargain bin?"

The copy, riding a horse alongside the carriage in full armor, gave him a sidelong glance. "If you’re so uncomfortable, maybe I should take your spot in the carriage. I could use a rest."

Arlon snorted. "I’d rather have you fight the Named Monsters with your legs intact, thanks. Besides, you’re not even real—do you even get tired?"

"Emotionally? Constantly."

Arlon chuckled despite himself. The banter was a strange sort of comfort. But he wondered if this was the same as talking to himself like a crazy person. Discover more content at novelbuddy.com

Looking at his face, the copy was thinking the same thing since they shared the same brain.

As they approached Akise City, the tension began to build. Draco and his Functionaries awaited, and Arlon couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

He checked his gear once more and tightened his grip on his own sword.

The upcoming battle wouldn’t just be a test of his strength but a critical step in proving to Zephyrion—and himself—that his plans could work.

The carriage rolled into Akise City as the evening sun cast a warm glow on the streets. Akise was a bustling trade hub, smaller than Kelta but no less vibrant.

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Merchants haggled over wares, children darted through the crowds, and guards patrolled with a watchful eye.

Arlon disembarked, his copy staying close by, blending seamlessly into the crowd.

They didn’t linger. The mansion outside the city awaited, a foreboding structure where Draco and his Functionaries lurked.

Arlon knew this mission would push him and his copy to their limits, but hesitation wasn’t an option.

---

As evening closed, the duo arrived at the outskirts of the sprawling estate. The mansion loomed ahead, its silhouette stark against the moonlit sky.

Despite its grandeur, there was an eerie stillness—no guards patrolled the perimeter, but the malevolent aura was enough to deter even the bravest intruders.

Arlon crouched behind a bush near the side gate, signaling his copy to follow. They slipped in through the shadows, avoiding the main entrance using Arlon’s skills.

The interior was as ominous as the exterior: cobwebbed chandeliers, dusty portraits, and a chill in the air that hinted at danger.

There were five Named Monsters here, and Arlon knew them from the past timeline.

---

The first was a hulking beast, over three meters tall, with the appearance of a minotaur and the agility of a panther.

Arlon didn’t even use Eyes of K****. Even before he was level 100, he could kill these Named Monsters, and now he even had his copy on his side.

It was much better to kill the Named Monster before it could alert anyone else.

It roared as Arlon’s copy struck first, its Sentinel’s Legacy armor glowing faintly. The battle was brutal but quick—Arlon’s strength and his copy’s coordination overwhelmed the monster.

As the beast fell, a voice reverberated in Arlon’s mind:

"The player Arlon has slain the Named Monster ’Thalgar the Ironhide.’"

This time, the enemy wouldn’t be informed.

Arlon smirked, One down. Four to go.

---

The second was a serpentine creature that slithered between the mansion’s pillars, venom dripping from its fangs. Arlon cast a quick glance at his copy.

"You take the left. I’ll flank it," he whispered.

The copy nodded, moving to distract the monster while Arlon dashed in with precision strikes.

The battle ended when Arlon drove his sword through the creature’s skull, its body collapsing with a final hiss.

"The player Arlon has slain the Named Monster ’Zirath the Venomous Coil.’"

The third, a shadowy assassin-type Keldar, tried to ambush them in a dimly lit corridor. Its speed rivaled Arlon’s, but it underestimated the strength of his copy. Together, they cornered it, striking simultaneously.

"The player Arlon has slain the Named Monster ’Silt the Whisperblade.’"

The fourth and fifth Named Monsters were fought in tandem in the mansion’s grand hall: a ferocious wolf-like creature with lightning-infused claws and a flame-wielding berserker.

The copy took on the berserker, Sentinel armor deflecting fiery strikes, while Arlon methodically dismantled the wolf with precision.

Once the wolf fell, Arlon joined his copy, finishing the berserker in a coordinated attack.

"The player Arlon has slain the Named Monster ’Fyrak the Stormfang.’"

"The player Arlon has slain the Named Monster ’Gornath the Firebringer.’"