Absolutely Do Not Touch ELdmia Egga – Chapter 164

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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Even in his past life, he hadn’t particularly enjoyed the rain.

It just added another layer of hassle to the already busy task of walking.

If he didn’t have to go out, though, it wasn’t so bad.

It wasn’t that he liked the sound of the rain; he simply derived a perverse pleasure from imagining others struggling while he remained comfortably indoors.

He did, however, genuinely enjoy the earthy scent that rose after a rainfall.

It evoked memories of a carefree childhood, bringing a sense of refreshment.

“Unidentified assailant! You are surrounded! Surrender immediately!”

Of course, the pervasive stench of blood currently permeating the air left little room for such sentimental musings.

Ignoring the ludicrous shouts from outside, he strolled leisurely through the eerily silent main house of the mansion.

“Based on what I remember from the informant, I’m concluding that most of these guys are far below Envelde’s standards. Maybe he only used his closest confidants for important matters? What do you think, Wilson?”

Zikmel had said that Envelde was meticulous in his management of people, conducting business only with his inner circle, operating in extreme secrecy.

At first glance, it seemed like an efficient way to cultivate an elite force, but the scope of a rebellion was far too vast for a small group to manage.

That was why Envelde had built a larger faction, but even then, he kept the crucial matters within his tight control.

Considering Envelde’s personality, evident even in his final moments as he attempted to recruit him, perhaps those outside his inner circle were little more than expendable pawns.

The severed head he held offered no reply.

“Right, I knew you’d agree, Wilson. You’re different from them, after all, having experienced being Envelde’s… hat rack.”

This seemingly insane act had a purpose.

Silence didn’t necessarily mean an absence of people.

The idea that individuals existed who would risk their lives for the outcome of a conflict on the second floor was difficult to grasp, but it was a reality.

These individuals, whose combat capabilities were unknown, were hiding, holding their breath, their eyes fixed on him.

That was why he’d acted like a madman, speaking loudly.

He had no intention of carrying this charade into the upcoming fight, however.

He couldn’t afford to be distracted by potential backstabbers.

“So, Wilson, my eloquent companion, what do you think we should do with Envelde’s lackeys lurking around, watching us? …What? Kill them all and start an ‘Egga’s Wilson Factory’? That’s a surprisingly appealing idea, coming from someone who was once Envelde’s helmet stand!”

“Heeelp!”

“He’s… he’s insane! Run!”

Idiots.

Staying quiet and hidden would have been safer than screaming.

Having achieved his objective, he abandoned the madman act and exited the main house.

He noticed a discarded dagger, picked it up, and stepped outside.

A crowd, holding torches, stood in formation, awaiting him.

“Well, well. Quite the gathering.”

Just how many were there?

He counted five different banners, suggesting the presence of five noble families.

Their presence here confirmed they weren’t royal forces.

He recalled the maximum number of soldiers a noble family could maintain in the capital was between fifteen and twenty.

That meant roughly a hundred men had assembled.

“Not bad, kid.”

So, five nobles in the capital were close enough to Envelde to react this quickly.

He was honestly surprised they’d managed this level of mobilization in less than thirty minutes.

“Lord Bosha is…!”

“That monstrous fiend!”

He watched as the nobles, who had initially shouted at him from behind the crumpled mansion gates, now entered, their faces pale with shock.

He suspected they had assumed he was already dead.

If they had truly perceived the situation as urgent, they would have stormed the mansion immediately.

Yet, despite their numbers, they remained outside, guarding the gate… as if Envelde’s mansion still held authority, and they were hesitant to violate a noble’s domain.

Perhaps, in their deluded minds, they had envisioned Envelde emerging triumphantly, holding his head, praising their loyalty and rewarding their diligence.

That was the only explanation for their brazen attempts to assert their presence, especially considering their non-combatant demeanor, evident in their panicked reactions to Envelde’s severed head.

If they had truly sensed danger, they would have hidden behind their soldiers.

“Who are you! Identify yourself!”

The only calm voice among them belonged to a man positioned in the center of the group.

He, too, however, had shown clear signs of distress upon seeing Envelde’s head.

Perhaps he was hoping to capitalize on the chaos.

“I am Eldmia Egga.”

The mansion was otherwise silent, so there was no need to raise his voice.

A calm, composed demeanor would be more effective.

He placed Envelde’s head on a pedestal flanking the mansion’s entrance and continued.

“I don’t care who you are. The traitor Envelde is dead. If you have any objections to his death, I will consider you traitors as well.”

“How dare you accuse the loyal Count Envelde Bosha of treason and justify this unlawful assault and murder! Before you spout such false rhetoric, surrender your weapons and submit to the law! Face the righteous judgment of the court!”

So, this was the one who had shouted about surrendering earlier.

“Are you defending Envelde’s crimes?”

“What crimes! I will bring you to the guillotine to honor the unjustly slain Count Bosha, uphold his will, and restore order! ”

The man’s tone was theatrical, his gestures exaggerated.

He took another step forward, his demeanor almost heroic.

Envelde was dead, and this man was clearly trying to salvage something from the wreckage.

“Disperse peacefully. I will assume you were unaware of Envelde’s treason. The royal family will investigate and reveal the truth, but that is not for now. However, if you refuse, I will consider you accomplices to his treason.”

“Your arrogance knows no bounds! You think you can escape this predicament with mere words!”

The middle-aged, hairy man raised his voice, and drew his sword.

“I already know who you are! The lawless Eldmia Egga, following the whore of Levien who stands accused of treason! Did you truly believe you could deceive us!”

And with that, he crossed a line.

“You dare insult…”

A dagger, thrown with deadly accuracy, silenced him mid-sentence, embedding itself in his throat.

He had assessed the situation.

These were men who didn’t even know the details of the ongoing trial, and therefore were utterly insignificant.

This one, Groshan or whatever his name was, was a fox trying to become king in a lionless forest.

Actions spoke louder than words.

“That idiot took his eyes off me.”

He’d been right to pick up that discarded dagger.

The men watched in stunned silence as Groshan clutched his throat, and collapsed.

They still seemed unable to grasp the situation.

“Attack! Execute him immediately!”

Finally, one of them, sensing the danger, retreated, shouting orders to his soldiers.

The other three followed suit, scrambling backwards, issuing their own commands.

“Wilson, did you really believe these idiots could succeed in a rebellion?”

He couldn’t sense Aura, and he was admittedly ignorant of the intricacies of noble society, but surely these men knew Envelde.

And yet, they were ordering a mindless charge against the man who had single-handedly decimated Envelde’s forces?

Even more astonishing, the soldiers were obeying, as their eyes burned with zeal.

“Well, I guess life has its easy moments, too.”

Surprisingly, he felt no fear facing the hundred charging men.

He had progressed too much.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he could kill two or three with each swing of his sword.

A hundred men sounded intimidating, but it was essentially five groups of twenty.

And with their leader dead, a portion of the soldiers, presumably Groshan’s, were already hesitating, retreating.

With this level of disarray, he could easily lure them into the mansion and finish them off.

“I am Eldmia Egga!”

He drew his sword, intending to maintain a serious demeanor for the sake of appearances, but the sight of them retreating en masse deflated his resolve.

He couldn’t help it.

“Fine. Those who want to leave, leave. The rest, come on in, damn it.”

Perhaps it was his overtly dismissive attitude, but a few, seemingly offended, drew their swords, shouting battle cries and positioning themselves at the front.

He wondered if he could take down three in a single swing.

It was worth a try.

He channeled mana into his blade.

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[WILSONNNNN NOOOOOOOO. bro really called enveldes head a hat rack lmaoooo]