Absolutely Do Not Touch ELdmia Egga – Chapter 167

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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Esmee was in an exceptionally good mood.

Not just good, but *exceptionally* so.

She had to actively work to keep it from showing.

But those she dealt with were nobles who had honed their skills in political maneuvering.

They were veterans of the political arena, seasoned and sharp, capable of discerning even the slightest shift in her demeanor, despite her genius-level efforts at concealment.

The problem was, in their eyes, Esmee wasn’t “suppressing her good mood,” but rather “masking extreme displeasure with a forced smile.”

The nobles who had come to greet her were sweating profusely, offering their greetings with trembling voices.

“It is an immeasurable honor to meet the brilliantly shining White Star of the Empire.”

Their perfect misunderstanding stemmed from their own guilty consciences.

Logically, her visit couldn’t possibly be for a pleasant reason.

The individual she had personally invited to the Empire to foster good relations was currently on trial for treason.

And the one who had not only saved her life but also personally delivered the Empire’s missive to the royal family was now confined to a temporary detention center for slaughtering a traitor.

Moreover, he hadn’t even been granted entry with the letter, having been turned away at the gate.

So, even if her smile appeared genuine, they could only assume she suffered from some strange affliction where extreme anger manifested as laughter.

From their perspective, it was the only reasonable explanation.

They couldn’t possibly imagine the Iron-Blooded Princess of the Empire would be in a good mood, filled with the anticipation of seeing her beloved after just a few days apart.

“I am…”

“Where is Eldmia Egga?”

It wasn’t rude.

She was the Princess.

It would have been rude for him to presume to speak first.

Therefore, she had graciously pardoned his initial attempt, and he could now compose himself.

The noble representing the welcoming committee frantically searched for a suitable response.

“Sir Egga is currently resting at a location provided by the royal family.”

“…Resting?”

“Yes. In these turbulent times, he single-handedly eliminated the traitors who attempted to overthrow the kingdom. However, as remnants of their faction remain, he is currently under royal protection.”

Despite having rehearsed the answer countless times, he’d barely managed to deliver it coherently.

Still, he felt a flicker of pride at having done so.

Now, he just needed to escort the satisfied Princess to the royal palace, and while she engaged in discussions with the King, he could retrieve Eldmia Egga and…

“Hmm, the situation seems rather more favorable than I had been led to believe.”

His barely functioning mind froze once more.

More favorable…?

“The last report I received painted a somewhat different picture. Your words ease my concerns.”

He felt a cold sweat drenching his back.

He couldn’t fathom what the Princess was referring to.

Could she possibly be implying… that “protection” was a euphemism for “imprisonment”…?

As he stood there, head bowed, the Iron-Blooded Princess issued her command.

“I wish to ascertain his condition. Lead the way.”

“While we proceed to the royal palace, we shall summon him…”

“The palace visit will follow my confirmation of his well-being. My current visit does not necessitate his presence. There’s no need to disturb someone who is currently resting.”

He felt the sweat trickling down his sides, but the Princess, having delivered her final decree, proceeded onward with an air of unwavering resolve.

Observing the silent procession of the Princess’s Black Knights and attendants, the noble representative gritted his teeth, made a swift decision, and abruptly rose from his position.

“Then I shall escort you by carriage, Your Highness. The rest of you, proceed to the palace and inform them of the Princess’s wishes. And send word to the location where Sir Egga is residing, so they can make the necessary ‘preparations.'”

Those who received the instructions understood.

They knew precisely what “preparations” entailed.

Transforming the interior of the temporary detention center into a lavish display rivaling a noble estate before the Princess’s arrival.

The race against time had begun.

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While it was technically called temporary detention, I was essentially free to do anything except leave the premises.

So, my daily routine remained unchanged.

I woke up, ate the meals prepared by the staff, washed, trained alone, read books when bored, and generally lazed around without any interference.

In fact, they catered to my every need as if I were royalty.

It felt less like detention and more like a luxurious vacation.

The only difference was the absence of visitors.

But the exceptional treatment more than compensated for that minor inconvenience.

They hadn’t confiscated my weapons, even allowing me to keep Gish and Envelde’s swords, which I’d taken from the mansion.

Complaining about the lack of visitors seemed petty in light of such lavish accommodations.

“I feel like Dooly the Little Dinosaur, the tyrannical brat.”

I’d caused such a commotion, yet here I was, enjoying luxurious treatment.

A strange mix of emotions swirled within me as I woke from a refreshing sleep, grabbed my three swords, and headed downstairs.

Even confined to this place, I had no intention of neglecting my training.

I planned to utilize this free time to practice my mana control.

There was no backyard in this detention center, but there was a small training ground.

Just how far were they willing to go to accommodate me?

I began to question whether this was truly a place for detaining potentially dangerous individuals.

The training ground was impeccably clean, stylish, and secluded.

They even provided meal service, delivered promptly at designated times.

The stark contrast between my current situation and Lagnis’s previous experience in the dilapidated detention center fueled my resentment, but I suppressed it and began my training.

“Let’s see… durability test first.”

Inferior swords couldn’t hold mana; it simply flowed through them like water through a sieve.

But swords of a certain quality could contain it.

The challenge lay in the next step.

Good swords accepted only the mana they could hold, releasing the excess.

Mediocre swords, however, attempted to absorb everything, often resulting in their destruction.

“Why do they behave like overfilled water balloons, ready to burst?”

Without a mentor, I had no one to ask, leaving me to rely on self-study.

Still, I appreciated that this relied more on intuition than complex theory.

I channeled mana into Envelde’s sword.

“Hmm.”

After repeating the process with Gish’s sword and comparing the results, I placed both on the floor, a wave of disappointment began washing over me.

“They’re… worse than mine…!”

Not overwhelmingly so, but noticeably inferior.

How could these two, both knights, have used such weapons?

They were undoubtedly good swords, capable of accepting mana, but their limits were clear. Channeling too much mana through them would shatter them.

I hadn’t expected such a significant difference.

“Disappointing. I’ll just sell them and use the funds for my expenses.”

Still, they were sturdy enough for today’s practice.

I focused my attention on the two swords lying on the floor, channeling my mana.

My goal was simple: to master a practical form of sword control.

Envelde had demonstrated the immense advantage of manipulating weapons from a distance and launching them from unexpected angles.

My training aimed to maximize that advantage.

I had devised a training regimen: first, stationary control of two swords; then, mobile control; and finally, control while running with mana enhancement, followed by projectile launching.

Mastering even these basic maneuvers would prove invaluable.

Perhaps, with enough practice, I could eventually manipulate and enhance even cheap swords.

“As expected… once you grasp the technique, linking isn’t too difficult.”

For now, however, I would stick to high-quality swords.

A craftsman might not blame his tools, but I wasn’t a craftsman.

Lifting the two swords to eye level presented no difficulty.

Manipulating their movements also proved manageable.

The challenge began with launching them.

“This is frustrating!”

It felt like trying to draw a triangle with one hand and a circle with the other while simultaneously writing with my tongue!

Controlling two swords, even with my proficiency, was far more challenging than manipulating a single one.

The unresponsiveness of the blades created an indescribable sense of frustration.

“Wow, I didn’t expect such a significant difference… Woah!”

Despite my focused concentration, Gish’s sword suddenly jerked free, whizzing past my ear at an alarming speed.

“Damn… I almost lost an ear.”

It felt like witnessing a 3D game object glitch and fly off uncontrollably.

“I barely channeled any mana. How did it launch with such force…?”

Perhaps there were specific points on a sword that amplified mana-driven movement?

Sword control was proving far more complex than I had initially anticipated.

As I focused on retrieving the errant sword with my mana, a knock echoed from the training ground door.

“Sir Egga. Are you available for a moment?”

It was the capable maid who handled the meals and cleaning.

Her tone was as polite as ever, but an unusual sense of urgency accompanied her words.

“We’ve received notification of an impending visitor.”

“A visitor…? I was informed visits weren’t permitted.”

“The First Princess of the Empire has arrived in the kingdom regarding this incident. She has expressed a strong desire to meet with you…”

“Es… The First Princess…?”

She’d arrived already? So soon after the letter?

Taken aback by the unexpected news, I opened the training ground door and stepped outside, only to be met with a scene of utter chaos.

“…What is going on here?”

Numerous staff members were frantically scurrying around the small detention center, their eyes wide with urgency, moving furniture with a fervor bordering on aggression.

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[Winter is coming.]