Absolutely Do Not Touch ELdmia Egga – Chapter 163

—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
—————————————————————–

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

The potion wasn’t as potent as the one I’d received from the Empire, but the visible healing of my wounds suggested Envelde’s stash was surprisingly high-quality.

That, however, was a small consolation.

The entire experience had left a bitter taste, and I couldn’t help but sigh.

“Ha, I could really use a cigarette right now. I wonder if this guy smoked?”

It wasn’t a joke.

I actually rummaged through his desk, but all I found were bottles of liquor and a case containing glasses.

The calm now was the quiet before the storm.

I couldn’t afford to drink with another potential brawl looming, so I simply sighed again and waited for my body to heal.

Physical abilities?

Sure, I was technically fifteen, but even I thought I looked eighteen.

I’d reached a decent height, and my muscles were toned.

All that sword swinging and running around had paid off. Call it practical, compressed training.

Swordsmanship?

I wouldn’t call myself a master, but I held my own.

This world had magic and Aura, but fights weren’t like those flashy, over-the-top anime battles.

It was just enhanced humans using enhanced strength to perform human techniques.

The abilities were leveled up, but the techniques were essentially the same.

In fact, I’d found it more helpful to reference anime from my past life for those slightly unrealistic, yet fantastical moves.

Like extending my reach by gripping the pommel of my sword at the last moment.

Things like that.

“I wouldn’t be so frustrated if there was some legendary sword technique in this world, like the Flying Immortal Sword Style or something.”

Then I could at least tell myself my swordsmanship was ordinary, and that was why I was relatively weak.

A nice mental victory.

Unfortunately, as far as I knew, such special sword techniques didn’t exist in this world.

I wished they did, so I could learn them, but it seemed unlikely.

Which meant my defeat at Envelde’s hands wasn’t due to physical ability or lack of swordsmanship.

It was experience.

And Mana.

Those were the primary factors.

Experience… well, I could accept that.

And I could work on it.

But Mana was a different beast altogether.

“I can’t keep having near-death experiences. This is getting ridiculous.”

My senses had awakened when I first crossed the gate, and they’d sharpened further during my fight with that demon.

I was definitely stronger than I’d been then.

I could now do things ordinary Aura users couldn’t even dream of, like manipulating my sword with mana.

But the fact that I couldn’t overpower Envelde, a man who’d run from demons, was a problem.

A serious problem.

My goal wasn’t just to dominate humans.

Unlike Aura, which had established users and techniques, my mana manipulation was uncharted territory.

“Do I need to find a demon master or something?”

I couldn’t just hope for eventual improvement.

I needed a solution, but my current knowledge and experience offered no answers.

It was frustrating.

“I should talk to Asirye.”

In the end, I couldn’t come up with any brilliant solutions while waiting for my wounds to heal enough to move freely.

All I had was the growing commotion downstairs and the silence of the stopped rain.

I’d won, more cleanly than when I’d taken down that demon, yet the satisfaction was less than half. It was disheartening.

“Well, life never goes as planned.”

Feeling like I was just tackling another chore, I pushed myself away from the desk and walked towards Envelde’s body.

I sheathed his sword on my right hip, alongside Gish’s, and retrieved my own.

Nobles in the capital weren’t allowed to maintain large private armies.

No point in making it easy for them to stage a rebellion.

I’d probably killed around thirty of Envelde’s men since entering the mansion.

The fact that there were still enough left to cause a commotion downstairs meant he’d either lied about his numbers or had converted all his staff into soldiers.

But even then, the commotion was too loud.

“So, who are they?”

Royal guards responding to the chaos?

Or other nobles, sending reinforcements to curry favor with Envelde?

Either way, it didn’t matter.

They were a problem I had to deal with.

“If it’s the royal guard, some might back down once they confirm Envelde’s death.”

Decapitating an already dead man felt a bit wrong, but it was necessary.

“Sorry about this.”

I meant it.

I no longer held any grudge against the now-peaceful Envelde.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Though the rain had stopped, the gloom in Lesrom’s heart remained unchanged.

When the self-proclaimed Dreamer had appeared, he had felt a flicker of excitement, a childish anticipation of some interesting development.

And indeed, something had developed, but it was far from interesting.

It was, in fact, a disaster.

‘I should have kept a closer watch…’

Regret, however, was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

The moment he’d heard that Eldmia had single-handedly stormed Envelde’s mansion, he’d reached for his communication crystal, his mind racing.

He’d underestimated the boy.

He’d assumed Eldmia would continue to play along, carefully targeting only Envelde’s periphery.

He’d anticipated the royal family might face repercussions, but only after the matter was resolved.

Who could have predicted that a mere assassination attempt would prompt such a brazen assault on a Count’s mansion in the capital?

The problems were numerous.

First, Envelde’s strength.

However exceptional Eldmia might have been, Envelde was a seasoned Aura Expert, a veteran of countless battles.

His reputation on the battlefield had drawn many knights and soldiers to his rebellion.

Despite the recent events, Lesrom couldn’t easily imagine Eldmia defeating him.

Second, the potential fallout from Eldmia’s defeat, or worse, his death.

The Iron-Blooded Princess had made her stance clear.

Though their meeting had been informal, and slightly hampered by an overly zealous gatekeeper, the royal family had received her message.

If Eldmia died, what then?

Even though Envelde was a traitor destined for execution, they couldn’t claim self-defense after such a blatant provocation.

The Princess would hold them accountable for their negligence, and they would have no defense.

To claim he’d simply run amok and died would be unconvincing given the circumstances.

The Empire wouldn’t stand for it.

‘Diplomatic solutions require equal footing…’

Third, the implications of Eldmia actually succeeding in killing Envelde.

He’d already made extensive preparations for Envelde’s demise, and ensuring plausible deniability wouldn’t be impossible.

But it wouldn’t be easy either.

There would be significant backlash, calls for Eldmia’s restraint or punishment, and many of his plans involving the boy would have to be revised or abandoned.

*That audacious boy…*

Eldmia had undoubtedly calculated the risks, at least to some extent.

The fifteen-year-old, who seemed far older, always acted with a keen awareness of the potential consequences, choosing his moments carefully.

‘Your Grace. The scout has returned.’

Lesrom turned towards the knight who’d spoken, his gaze falling on the approaching scout, galloping towards them through the lingering dampness.

He’d sent him ahead to assess the situation at the mansion.

“Report!”

“Reporting! Envelde’s mansion… the main house is partially destroyed! Other nobles’ soldiers, approximately one hundred, are guarding the perimeter!”

The scout’s concise report, devoid of unnecessary details, was precisely what he needed.

At least five of the conspirators had sent their soldiers, hoping to capitalize on the chaos.

To Lesrom, however, it wasn’t an opportunity, but a poisoned chalice.

“What about the situation inside?”

“No movement detected. However…”

Lesrom held his breath, a familiar knot of anxiety tightening in his chest.

‘Please, let them both be alive.’

“Eldmia Egga… appears to be standing on the roof of the main house… holding… the head of… Count Bosha.”

His prayer went unanswered, but Lesrom spurred his horse onward, the urgency of the situation overriding any sense of despair.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

[Lesrom just wanting to do things the smart way…. poor lesrom, he has to deal with the MIGHT of Don ELdima Le Egga!]