I Don't Need To Log Out

Carole still looked hesitant, but Arlon had already turned his attention elsewhere.

The classroom slowly filled with students, their chatter buzzing like an undercurrent beneath the tension hanging in the air.

It was clear that today's lessons were secondary in everyone's mind. The duel between Arlon and Mirek had already cemented itself as the event of the day.

Even the professor seemed aware of the restless energy in the room. He sighed as he placed his materials on the podium, giving the class a sharp look.

"I expect all of you to pay attention despite whatever nonsense you're excited about today," he said, his gaze flicking toward Arlon and Mirek before scanning the rest of the room. "Just because there's a duel doesn't mean you get to slack off during my lesson."

A few students chuckled under their breath, but most straightened up in their seats.

Arlon, as usual, remained indifferent, already taking notes as the professor began the lecture.

Mirek, on the other hand, had a more distracted energy about him. Every so often, he would glance in Arlon's direction, as if trying to measure him up even while seated.

---

After a long, restless morning of theoretical lessons, the real excitement began brewing in the academy halls.

During the Hell Week, even the theoretical lessons were hard and important. But, maybe because of the duel, everyone sat through it.

By the time classes ended, students were already rushing toward the designated dueling arena. The official student duels were always held in the academy's outdoor training grounds—a massive, reinforced platform designed to withstand even the most destructive magic.

Arlon made his way toward the arena without much thought, but the rest of the players followed behind him with varying levels of enthusiasm.

"This is gonna be amazing," Zack said, stretching his arms behind his head. "I knew you wouldn't turn down a fight."

Pierre adjusted his glasses. "I don't think he accepted for the reasons you're assuming."

Carole, walking a bit behind the others, was still mulling over Arlon's words from earlier.

She wanted to believe there was something to learn from this fight, but the idea of approaching Mirek for advice still made her stomach turn.

"Ugh," she muttered to Maria. "Do I really have to talk to him?"

Maria smirked. "Well, technically, no. But if Arlon thinks it's important, maybe just get it over with?"

Carole groaned, dragging a hand down her face.

Meanwhile, Mei walked slightly ahead of the group, her brows furrowed. She kept glancing toward Arlon as if she wanted to say something but held back.

Finally, as they neared the entrance to the training grounds, she couldn't hold back anymore.

"Alright, I need to ask—why did you accept the duel so easily?" Mei said, crossing her arms. "Don't give me some vague answer like 'Why not?' either."

Arlon glanced at her, then turned back ahead. "I'm interested in fighting a strong priest."

Mei narrowed her eyes. "That's it?"

"That's it."

She stared at him for a long moment, then exhaled sharply. "You really don't care about rumors at all, do you?"

Arlon gave a small shrug. "They don't matter."

Mei shook her head in disbelief.

Before she could respond, they entered the training grounds, and the sight before them stole everyone's attention.

The stands were packed.

It felt like half the academy had gathered to witness the match. Students were sitting on the stone bleachers, some standing, others leaning over to get a better view. Excited murmurs filled the air as the duelists arrived.

At the center of the arena, Mirek was already waiting, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders. He looked completely at ease, a confident smile playing on his lips.

"Finally," Mirek said as Arlon stepped onto the platform. "I thought you'd take your time."

"You challenged me," Arlon reminded him. "I have no reason to stall."

Mirek chuckled. "True enough."

Professor Orlen stood at the edge of the arena, serving as the duel's official overseer. His arms were crossed as he observed the two duelists.

Unlike the students, who were buzzing with excitement, his expression remained neutral—calm but focused.

"Since this is an official duel under the academy's supervision," Orlen began, his voice effortlessly cutting through the noise of the crowd, "we will be using the special training arena."

Murmurs rippled through the spectators.

The special arena wasn't something used for casual matches.

It was a high-level magical field designed to prevent actual harm, rewinding minor injuries and negating lethal damage entirely.

It ensured that no matter how intense the fight got, neither combatant would be permanently injured.

Orlen tapped his staff against the stone platform, and instantly, a shimmering blue barrier rose around the arena, sealing off the combatants.

The air within the barrier crackled slightly, infused with spatial magic that would rewind injuries if necessary.

"This duel will continue until one party either surrenders or is deemed unable to fight," Orlen continued. "In this arena, no one dies, so don't hold back."

Arlon remained still, unfazed. Mirek, on the other hand, smirked. "No need to tell me twice."

There was no need for a talk. They didn't actually bet anything. Mirek wanted to prove to Mei that he was better than Arlon, and Arlon wanted to fight against a priest.

Orlen's eyes briefly flickered between the two of them before he raised his hand.

"Then begin!"

With a sharp crack, the magic in the air surged as the duel officially started.

---

The moment Orlen's hand dropped, the fight began.

Mirek wasted no time, thrusting his hand forward. A golden glow erupted from his palm, forming a radiant barrier around his body. At the same time, he moved—not backward, as one might expect from a priest, but forward, closing the distance between him and Arlon in an instant.

The watching students murmured in surprise.

"He's rushing in?" someone whispered.

Most priests relied on defensive magic, supporting from the backline rather than engaging head-on. But Mirek was different.

Arlon raised his sword just as Mirek's fist came flying toward him. The priest's speed was impressive—his movements fluid, precise.

His punch wasn't just a wild swing; it was backed by a surge of holy energy, the air around his fist shimmering from the sheer force of it.

This was one of the most basic things a priest could do. They would create holy shields to attack.

Of course, it wasn't as easy as it sounded since it was impossible to move a shield. But, if one worked enough, they could do it.

Arlon dodged with minimal effort, tilting his head just enough for the attack to brush past his cheek.

He swung Aetherion's Edge in a clean, calculated strike, aiming for Mirek's exposed side.

But before his blade could connect, a golden shield of light manifested in mid-air, blocking the attack.

The force of the clash sent out a ripple, making the barrier flicker for a moment before stabilizing.

"Auto-barriers," Arlon noted. A priest's signature ability.

Mirek grinned. "Surprised? I told you, I'm not your average priest."

Arlon didn't answer. Instead, he activated Eyes of K*T**.