Absolutely Do Not Touch ELdmia Egga – Chapter 147

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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The man, frantically stripping off his equipment, received a swift kick to the face, rendering him unconscious.

I surveyed the carnage.

The fiery orb in the sky dwindled, losing its form, but the thirty or so burning corpses showed no sign of extinguishing.

“I need to study theoretical magic once this is over.”

It wasn’t about using magic, but understanding it, countering it.

I hadn’t anticipated such swift, inescapable magic.

It was unsettling.

I could see the mana flow, grasp the principle.

The fiery orb, a giant eye conjured by magic.

Threads of mana, emanating from it, latching onto the mercenaries’ armor, igniting them.

Like dousing them in gasoline and striking a match, but with magic.

Terrifying.

It must have consumed a tremendous amount of mana and required immense mental focus.

A single pebble, disrupting the caster’s concentration, could cause unimaginable chaos.

Rellie had positioned herself in the open, suggesting a limited range.

Still, the speed was alarming.

If a more skilled mage used a similar, more subtle method, it would be inescapable.

“For now, I should appreciate this victory.”

Dragging the unconscious Wery Mk.2, I headed towards the village square.

Gaendal and the others gathered, including Asirye, who had emerged from the forest.

Gies, seeing the situation resolved, circled overhead, searching for a landing spot.

“Eldi? Who are these people?”

Ah, I hadn’t written about the dungeon incident.

The others seemed to understand Asirye’s elven features and her use of my nickname.

I introduced them.

“These are the adventurers I worked with on the last request. Gaendal, Ginh, Yekaterina, and… Rellie, struggling to catch up.”

Rellie was indeed struggling.

No one offered assistance, suggesting a reason.

Perhaps the scale of the magic had taken a toll.

She wasn’t too far behind, though.

Hearing my voice, she waved weakly.

“This is Asirye. My benefactor and guardian. And circling above us is Gies, a certified wyvern pilot.”

“Hee hee. Guardian might be a bit of a stretch now.”

“So you’re the elf she mentioned!”

Yekaterina clapped, while Gaendal stared in surprise.

Ginh, however, tilted his head, stroking his beard, as if recalling something.

I glanced at Asirye, but she simply bowed politely.

“Pleasure to meet you, Asirye. I imagined someone like a Northern Elf, considering you raised Eldmia.”

“Hee hee. It’s a pleasure. Eldi has grown quite a bit.”

Northern Elves, I’d heard, weren’t the typical slender, elegant type.

They were muscular brutes, capable of crushing skulls with a single blow.

Their height also far exceeded the average elf. Perhaps I resembled them in build.

Of course, standing next to one would make me look like a lanky squid, so I had no desire to meet them.

“The immediate threat is neutralized. Let’s help the survivors. Eldmia, are you alright with that?”

“Of course. My objective is complete. I’m happy to help.”

I shook Wery Mk.2’s collar, and Gaendal, chuckling, assigned tasks.

I trusted his judgment implicitly and followed his instructions, heading towards the shrine with Yekaterina.

I signaled Gies to join the others in the square.

The shrine’s door was secured with a heavy latch.

“It’s quiet.”

“They’re probably terrified. I’ll open it.”

“Whoa, whoa. Hold on, Eldmia.”

Yekaterina stopped me from lifting the latch.

I raised my hands in acquiescence, and she took a deep breath, shouting,

“People inside! We’re adventurers here to help! Can anyone hear me?!”

“Y-you’re here to help?!”

The shrine erupted in commotion.

Voices pleaded for help.

Yekaterina shrugged.

“There are three types in these situations. They either cling to any hope of rescue, attack the moment the door opens, or… give up completely. The last type react like living corpses.”

This wasn’t the last type.

Yekaterina seemed concerned about the second.

I hadn’t considered that.

Experienced adventurers were different.

The voices inside gradually subsided as we remained silent.

Yekaterina spoke again.

“The mercenaries who attacked you are all dealt with! We’ll help you reach the nearest city! Please, don’t panic and do anything rash!”

“A-alright!”

Yekaterina was a true warrior of civilization.

Her vocabulary in casual conversation was surprisingly limited.

The commotion inside settled.

I removed the latch and opened the door.

The survivors stared at us with a mixture of fear and hope.

We exchanged glances, understanding our roles.

Yekaterina rested her massive warhammer on her shoulder.

I sheathed my sword, speaking softly,

“Come out. You’re safe now.”

It was time to play the hero they needed.

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Silence, distrust, surprise, joy, sorrow.

The survivors’ emotions shifted dramatically.

But there were no men or elderly among them.

Only women and children.

Male slaves weren’t worthless, so the men must have fought to protect them, dying in the process.

They were refugees from the border, fleeing the demon army.

They’d reached the relative safety of the inland, joining other refugees, seeking protection from the city while establishing a village.

“Humans are worse than demons.”

Disgust overwhelmed me.

I stepped away, seeking solitude.

Asirye approached, silently embracing me from behind.

My expression must have been worse than I thought.

Yekaterina glanced at me, concerned. I waved, reassuring her.

“Gaendal isn’t back yet?”

“No.”

I hadn’t hidden my reasons for being here.

I hadn’t elaborated, but I’d mentioned the mercenaries’ connection to the rebels.

Gaendal had taken the survivor into the forest to extract information.

Twenty minutes had passed.

No screams yet.

Either they’d traveled far, or the survivor was cooperating.

He hadn’t seemed the stoic, torture-resistant type, frantically discarding his equipment to survive.

“Could there be another slave trading group we don’t know about?”

“Not according to Zikmel’s information. I hope not.”

Ginh explained that another village had suffered the same fate.

Some of the survivors here were from that village.

It seemed the Hawk’s Talon mercenaries were responsible.

Likely, the slave traders we’d dealt with were supposed to transport the captives.

Forty mercenaries couldn’t escort twenty prisoners on a cross-country trek without proper transport.

The survivor’s cooperation was crucial.

I stared at the rising sun, lost in thought.

Ten minutes passed.

Footsteps.

Gaendal returned with the survivor.

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