I Don't Need To Log Out-Chapter 259: Arcanium Edge

Trion had a special class of equipment known as Royals—legendary weapons and armor that stood at the pinnacle of what the planet had to offer.

During the era of the old heroes, the top players of Trion, especially those who ranked within the top ten on the leaderboard, enchanted their weapons to an extraordinary degree.

But enchantment alone wasn't what made Royals powerful.

The best equipment wasn't just infused with magic—it was also crafted by the most skilled players of the blacksmith and tailor professions.

The finest warriors wielded blades forged by master smiths, and the most resilient mages wore robes sewn by the greatest tailors.

That was why Royals were considered Trion's ultimate gear.

However, Trion wasn't the only planet with players.

Other worlds, scattered across the vast universe, had their own champions. Their own craftsmen. Their own masterpieces.

Though each planet's best equipment had unique traits and enchantments, they all followed similar principles—reflections of the same pursuit of power.

In the end, the strongest weapons and armor across the universe often resembled each other; their differences were mostly dictated by level rather than design.

And because the Tower served as a bridge between countless worlds, it became a graveyard of lost treasures.

Many challengers had entered, only to lose their lives before they could leave.

Some had fallen to the trials within, their weapons and armor left behind as remnants of their failure.

Others had come with more reckless ambitions, attempting to attack the Tower itself—only to be erased by Jiroeki.

Regardless of the reason, all their equipment was claimed by the Tower.

Stored. Collected. Preserved.

If a planet—or anyone from the physical world—managed to gain access to the Tower's storage and retrieve the high-level gear within, they could amass enough power to rule entire galaxies.

Of course, that was only true for the physical world.

Once one ascended, weapons and armor became meaningless. No mortal forge could create something truly useful for an ascended being.

Unless, of course, one intended to give that power to someone from the physical world.

Just like Jiroeki had done.

It had taken the strongest staff and the strongest sword within the Tower's storage and fused them together, creating a weapon unlike any other.

A weapon it had chosen to give to Arlon.

Unlike the other weapons created by the players, this one wasn't just "enchanted" or "crafted".

The sword itself carried all those features.

Arcanium Edge.

---

Arlon took a deep breath as he stepped onto the battlefield of Floor 87.

The towering walls of the chamber loomed over him, their surfaces laced with deep cracks from past battles.

Faint echoes of wind stirred the dust beneath his feet, an eerie reminder of the countless challengers who had stood in this same spot before him.

But none of that mattered. His focus was on what stood ahead.

This floor was different.

The monsters here were not mere fodder. Each was level 290—at the same existence level as him. That alone made them worthy opponents.

And yet, they were not his true goal.

Arlon slowly reached into his inventory, his fingers closing around the hilt of his sword.

Arcanium Edge.

With a smooth motion, he pulled it free, its blade catching the dim light of the chamber.

He had trained with it during his journey back from Floor ???. He had tested its weight, its balance, and its responsiveness. He had even cast spells with it.

But he had never used it in a real fight.

Not against flesh. Not against something that could fight back.

That would change now.

But before he could test it on the boss monster, he needed to deal with the others first.

Level 1 of Floor 87 began with a single monster.

It wasn't alone for long.

A hundred others would follow soon, swarming him from all directions.

And even though he had fought stronger creatures before, even though his power had soared beyond what it once was, he wasn't about to let them get close.

Fighting them as a swordsman would be inefficient.

Not yet.

Instead, he adjusted his grip, shifting his stance. Though Arcanium Edge was a sword, it was also something more. It retained its nature as a staff.

Updat𝓮d from frёewebnoѵēl.com.

And right now, he would wield it as a mage.

His gaze locked onto the nearest monster.

A hulking beast, its obsidian-black hide glistened as it advanced, its heavy steps leaving deep imprints in the ground.

Its muscles tensed, its claws twitching in anticipation.

Arlon channeled his mana.

A familiar spell formed in his mind.

Ice Pillar.

It was basic magic. He didn't expect it to do much against creatures of this caliber. At best, it would slow them down.

At worst, it wouldn't affect them at all. Their skin was likely too tough for something this simple to pierce.

That was fine. He only needed to control their movements.

But then—

Something was wrong.

The moment he directed mana into Arcanium Edge, he felt it.

A pull.

Not the usual flow of mana from his core to his weapon, but something else.

Something hungry.

The sword wasn't just conducting his magic—it was absorbing it.

Arlon stiffened. His control faltered for a brief second as more mana than he intended rushed into the blade.

It drank his energy greedily as if it had been waiting for this moment.

And then, before he could react, the connection formed.

This didn't happen when he was training with the sword even though he used spells back then.

A sharp clarity filled his mind, like a barrier had shattered between him and the sword. It wasn't just a weapon anymore.

It was alive.

Or, at the very least, it felt like it was.

He could feel the mana within it.

Not his mana. Not the energy it had pulled from him.

This was something else.

It was its own.

The sword had veins of power running through it, hidden pathways of magic pulsing beneath its surface like the lifeblood of a living thing.

And Arlon could sense it.

Not only that—he could control it.

His instincts flared. He had never done this before, never even considered it, but his body moved on its own.

His mind latched onto the energy within the sword, guiding it through the unseen pathways.

A sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced washed over him.

Time stretched.

It felt like he spent minutes carefully threading the energy, directing it along its natural currents.

But in reality, it had all happened in an instant.

A blink.

And then—

Power surged.

Mana exploded from the tip of Arcanium Edge.

The result was not the Ice Pillar Arlon had expected.

A spear of frozen energy rocketed forward, its form far more refined, far denser than any Ice Pillar he had ever conjured before.

The monster in front of him barely had time to react.

The ice tore through its hide as if it were paper.

Pierced clean through.

But it didn't stop.

The projectile continued, impaling the creature behind it as well.

Two kills.

With a basic spell.

Arlon's eyes widened slightly as he lowered his sword.

The first monster collapsed with a heavy thud. The second followed a second later.

Both were dead.

Just like that.

His grip tightened around Arcanium Edge.

This wasn't just a magic sword.

It wasn't just a staff.

It was something else entirely.

And this—this was only the beginning.