Absolutely Do Not Touch Eldmia Egga – Chapter 100

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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“A human radiating magic power. Two of you being here at the same time is utter nonsense. The one who turned the Swamp Forest into an actual swamp. Little Eldmia. It must be you.”

The words I spat out in the heat of the moment, throwing my sword beyond the gate of that forsaken dungeon, had snowballed into this insane situation, bringing me face to face with this madman.

Judging by his tone, it was clear he hadn’t been there at the time.

And the fact that he knew details about the sudden disappearance of the demon unit, when the Demon King’s communication magic wasn’t anything special, meant he was no ordinary soldier.

But even setting that aside, my unease skyrocketed as I stood before him, unable to sense even a sliver of magic power emanating from his being.

The fact that I felt absolutely nothing, despite the tree he had just sliced clean through with a single blow, was utterly baffling.

If I had just bumped into him by chance, I would have bolted without hesitation, trusting my legs to carry me to safety.

But a primal urge, a warrior’s curiosity, urged me to test my limits and see how far I could go.

“Honestly, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Of all people, you’re the one I’ve been most eager to see.”

While his lack of magical presence, almost as if he were a human wearing horns as a costume, made it impossible to gauge his true strength, one thing was certain: this guy was batshit insane.

His current grin was a testament to that.

The phrase “a manic grin” must have been coined specifically to describe the expression on his face.

Even his long, unkempt hair, more reminiscent of dried blood than Lagnis’s fiery red, hinted at his fractured mental state.

“But you’re taller than I expected. Why ‘little’ Eldmia? It doesn’t seem like a derogatory term fueled by envy… Did you perhaps use it as a term of endearment for your past self? Now that’s… poetic? Or is it? Hmm. How intriguing.”

Even his emotional range, shifting from one extreme to the other in the blink of an eye, screamed madness.

And his incessant mumbling only solidified that impression.

Yet, what bothered me was the stark contrast between his outward madness and the cold, calculating analysis that flowed from his lips, completely devoid of prejudice or delusion.

A sane madman?

He’d be right at home at the top of my “people I’d rather not fight” list.

Although his assumptions were off, mainly because he had no idea about the “miniature hippopotamus” that embodied vengeance and wrath, he was clearly no fool who’d judge someone solely on appearances.

I could only hope he’d underestimate me, even if just a little.

“Heh, hehehehehehehe.”

What he found so amusing was beyond me, but his sudden, full-body laughter was pure madness.

If he were even slightly weaker than me, I would have lunged at him and punched him in the face.

My instincts were screaming at me to stay away.

If this was an act, he deserved an award for his commitment to the role.

“It doesn’t matter. Did you know you’re quite famous?”

His tone was so sickeningly sweet, almost as if he were talking to a lover, that it sent chills down my spine.

Yet, he simply laughed off my reaction and continued his analysis.

“How aggressive. You’re tense. Hehehehehe. And yet, you’re so rational beneath the surface. I had a hunch when I heard you chucked that magic tool in the Swamp Forest, and it seems my suspicions were correct. It was a calculated move, wasn’t it?”

I had no idea what he was basing his analysis on, but it felt eerily accurate, like a fortune teller spouting vague yet seemingly profound truths.

It was as if he could see right through me.

“I like it. Now, show me that again.”

There was no need to ponder his words.

A blade of condensed magic power shot towards me at his command.

Thankfully, it was slow enough to see and dodge.

As I rolled out of the way and regained my footing, he chuckled, a look of amusement on his face.

“You dodged again? But how? Is it instinct? Does your hair stand on end whenever you sense danger?”

While his outward madness was unsettling, his genuine curiosity, his wide-eyed fascination as I effortlessly evaded his attacks, was what truly bothered me.

It was as if he were a scientist observing a lab rat, completely oblivious to the fact that I could see his attacks.

Yes, it was as if he truly believed that I couldn’t possibly see the very thing he was using to attack me.

That meant that seeing and sensing magic power were two entirely different abilities, and that my ability was neither common nor ordinary.

Perhaps he saw something else entirely, something I couldn’t even comprehend.

Or maybe he possessed some kind of magic eye, allowing him to perceive a realm invisible to me.

Well, if that was the case, so be it.

Because his confidence in his “invisible” attacks made them incredibly predictable and easy to dodge.

If it weren’t for the fact that I had to maintain a semblance of effort, I could have dodged them in my sleep.

I wanted to test if I could cut down those completed magic blades, but the risk was too great at this point.

So, I continued dodging, narrowly avoiding each attack as I closed the distance between us.

I had to maintain a facade, after all.

If I made it too obvious, he would become suspicious.

A few cuts and bruises were a small price to pay for a moment of carelessness.

And the ultimate prize?

His head.

“You’re better than I expected.”

Even as I closed the distance, dodging five consecutive blades with ease, his expression remained calm, devoid of any sense of urgency.

The absence of that manic grin was a welcome change, but his unwavering composure, despite the fact that I was now within striking distance, was unsettling.

At this rate, I would be upon him after dodging just one more blade.

Yet, he remained unfazed, his gaze fixed on me with a detached curiosity that sent shivers down my spine.

Was he that confident in his abilities?

Did he have a hidden trump card?

“Then how about this?” he murmured.

Instead of forming above his head, a sphere of energy began to coalesce near his thigh.

Once again, it wasn’t drawing in the surrounding magic power, and it lacked any discernible form.

Unlike the blades, this new attack formed without any telltale signs, any movement or fluctuation in magic power.

He was clearly anticipating me to react based on his movements, and he was right.

It was a good attempt, but ultimately futile against me.

I effortlessly dodged the projectile, using his movements as a guide, and closed the remaining distance between us.

With all my might, I swung my sword, aiming for his neck.

For a fleeting moment, our eyes met.

His gaze held nothing but a cold, analytical curiosity, as if he were utterly unconcerned by the sword hurtling towards his throat.

There was no fear of death, no surprise, no panic.

Only a detached observation, a quest for understanding.

“This is getting annoying,” he muttered, his emotional pendulum swinging once more.

My sword connected with his neck, yet I felt no resistance.

Instead, a searing pain ripped through my side.

“Shit…!”

I threw myself to the side, gritting my teeth against the agonizing pain.

It felt like my insides were being torn apart.

“How did you dodge that?”

As I scrambled away, I instinctively reached for my side, my fingers probing the gaping wound.

It felt like I had been shot.

I had no idea what had hit me, but it was definitely not a blade.

And then I saw it.

His hand, still empty, yet radiating a chilling aura.

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[idk why but i imagine this demon like the one from the simpsons that looks like moe]