The Transmigrator Doesn’t Dream of Being the Protagonist – Chapter 8

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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“…You never know when the Demon King’s army might attack.”

“Hmm, you’re an amusing one. There’s no need to lie to me. Tell me the real reason.”

Her words caught me off guard.

I knew my half-hearted lie wouldn’t fool her, but I hadn’t expected her to call me out so directly.

“To survive,” I said, my voice low.

I wanted to survive, more than anything.

To survive in this damned world.

And to survive, I needed to be strong.

“To survive…”

She nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful.

“Dania.”

“Yes, Lady Sylvia!”

“Would you mind sparring with this young man?”

Two wooden swords were strapped to Dania’s waist.

“What do you say, Ethan? Would you care to spar with Dania?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, nodding.

To acquire the Linchester swordsmanship style…

Even as an attendant, Dania was a skilled swordswoman.

Could I beat her?

I had just consumed a powerful artifact. Losing now would be embarrassing.

Besides, I wanted to gauge my current abilities.

“Good luck, Ethan! I’ve been looking for an excuse to stretch my muscles.”

I accepted the wooden sword from Dania.

We faced each other, our swords raised.

The spar began with a series of probing attacks. Dania struck first.

Whoosh!

Her wooden sword, imbued with a faint blue glow, came at me with surprising speed.

Clang!

The wooden swords clashed, the sound echoing through the training grounds.

Her attacks were fluid and unpredictable, shifting from right to left in the blink of an eye.

I remembered from the novel that Dania’s skill level was at least three stars.

Her attacks intensified, each strike carrying more force than the last.

She wasn’t holding back anymore.

But I wasn’t completely outmatched.

I had passed the academy entrance exam, after all. I had some skill.

Clang!

We exchanged blows, the wooden swords meeting with a satisfying thud.

Dania was systematically dismantling my defenses, her movements precise and calculated.

Ten seconds passed.

She suddenly changed tactics, launching a series of rapid strikes, exploiting a gap in my defenses.

She had been setting me up for this.

Whoosh!

Dodging was impossible.

Even if I managed to evade this attack, the next one would surely hit its mark.

So I countered, thrusting my sword forward.

“Gah!”

Thud!

My sword connected with her abdomen, sending her sprawling backward.

She clutched her stomach, groaning in pain.

“Ow, ow, ow…”

She quickly recovered, scrambling to her feet.

“Ethan, that hurt!”

“I-I apologize!”

I had instinctively struck with more force than intended.

“Ugh, it’s okay. Wow, you’re strong! And you didn’t even release your mana!”

Dania seemed genuinely impressed.

“Lady Sylvia, what do you think?”

“Hmm… He’s not bad,” Sylvia said, a hint of a smile gracing her lips.

It was a subtle expression, but it was there. She looked like a child who had stumbled upon a fascinating new toy.

I felt a surge of hope. The Linchester swordsmanship style was within reach!

“Ethan, may I test your skills?”

“Yes, ma’am. It would be an honor.”

“Release your mana and attack me with all your might.”

Sylvia took the wooden sword from Dania.

I met her gaze, and she smiled.

“Good luck, Ethan.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

My grip tightened on the wooden sword, my nerves getting the better of me.

“Begin!” Dania announced.

As soon as the word left her lips, Sylvia vanished, leaving behind only a faint afterimage.

She reappeared in front of me, her movements too fast for my eyes to follow.

Clang!

Our wooden swords crossed.

Her attacks were a mesmerizing blend of power and grace, flowing like water, yet each strike carried a weight that I could feel in my bones.

I had no choice but to release my mana.

A torrent of energy surged through my body, exceeding even my own expectations.

I felt invincible, my movements fluid and precise.

Was this the power of the Heart of Winter?

Clang! Clang! Clang!

I attacked relentlessly, my sword a blur of motion.

But Sylvia effortlessly parried every blow.

And she hadn’t even released her mana.

Wow.

Ethan was truly a pathetic excuse for a fighter.

What was the point of acquiring a power-up if I couldn’t even land a single hit on a skilled opponent?

Sylvia was probably thinking the same thing.

Frustration welled up inside me.

Just one hit.

I had to land at least one hit.

Pure competitiveness fueled my determination.

With a battle cry, I launched a powerful attack, my sword whistling through the air. I lunged forward, aiming for her abdomen.

A flicker of surprise crossed her face.

I was going to hit her!

My sword plunged towards her, the tip aimed at her stomach.

But she deflected it with ease.

And then I felt a sharp pain in my gut.

My stance crumbled.

I collapsed to my knees, my breath knocked out of me.

Sylvia stood before me, her body enveloped in a blue aura.

“Gah… Cough!”

It was hard to breathe.

I coughed uncontrollably.

It hurt.

And I was angry. Angry at this pathetic excuse for a body.

Would this Ethan even survive the academy?

“Are you alright, young man?”

Sylvia rushed to my side, her voice laced with concern.

I clutched my stomach, gasping for air.

“Ethan! Are you okay?”

“What… what’s wrong, Dania?”

“I… I’ve never seen her release her mana before,” Dania said, her voice filled with awe.

“What?”

I stared at her, dumbfounded.

She had never seen Sylvia release her mana?

“It’s true… I’ve never seen it before…”

Dania nodded vigorously, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Ethan, I apologize. I got a bit carried away,” Sylvia said, her tone apologetic.

I struggled to my feet, her hand supporting my weight.

My stomach throbbed with each breath I took.

“But I must say, I’m impressed with your skills. And I enjoyed our spar.”

“…”

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with genuine amusement.

She was beautiful. Breathtakingly so.

“Ethan, I have a proposition for you.”

“A… proposition?”

Had all those early morning runs finally paid off?

“Would you be interested in becoming my personal swordsmanship student?”

My second power-up opportunity had finally presented itself.

I struggled to maintain a neutral expression, my mind racing.

Never in my life had I been so conscious of my facial expressions.

Becoming Sylvia’s personal disciple wasn’t something you could buy with money.

Countless individuals across the continent dreamed of learning from her.

And she had rejected them all.

“So, what do you say? Would you like me to be your teacher?”

She waited patiently for my answer, her composure unwavering.

Even her silence radiated an aura of power and confidence.

I couldn’t just accept her offer outright.

“May I ask why?”

“Let’s just say I’m intrigued by you,” she said, a subtle smile playing on her lips.

“And I’d like to see what you’re capable of.”

“I see… Very well, I accept your offer.”

“Excellent. Meet me tomorrow evening at seven o’clock. I’ll be waiting for you in the northern forest, just beyond the academy grounds.”

With those words, she turned and walked away.

Even her retreating figure radiated an air of power and grace, her every move deliberate and precise.

“Ethan?”

“Yes? Did you say something?”

Dania’s voice snapped me out of my daze.

“You seem to have forgotten your wooden sword,” she said, amusement flickering in her eyes.

“Ah… right.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, sheepishly handing her the sword.

“Congratulations, Ethan. I’m… a bit jealous, actually.”

“Dania…”

“Haha, that’s so formal. You’re twenty, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Technically, I was twenty-five.

But Ethan was twenty.

Dania smiled, her eyes twinkling.

“Call me Nia. I’m a year older than you. See you around.”

With a wave, she turned and jogged towards Sylvia, her short brown hair bouncing with each step.

I watched her go, my mind still reeling from the encounter.

Things were going surprisingly well.

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Late afternoon, in Sylvia’s office.

Sylvia stood by the window, her gaze sweeping over the academy grounds.

Hero Candidates were arriving from all over the empire, eager to begin their studies.

Some had even traveled from distant lands, drawn by the academy’s reputation.

Knock, knock.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She remained by the window, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Lady Sylvia, it’s Dania!”

“Enter.”

Dania entered, her arms laden with documents.

She placed the stack of papers on Sylvia’s desk with a thud.

“Here are the files for this year’s incoming students.”

“I see. I trust you’ve included the file for that young man?”

“Yes, I’ve also done some background research.”

“What have you learned?”

Sylvia’s tone was neutral, betraying no hint of her curiosity.

It was unusual for her to take such an interest in a student, which made Dania even more intrigued by this Ethan.

“He’s an orphan who was taken in by the Logness family at a young age. He’s been serving as one of their servants.”

“As I suspected.”

Sylvia’s tone suggested she had known all along.

“I also discovered that he used his academy credentials to travel to Herbeiravan through the city transfer stone.”

He had utilized the city transfer stone even though he hadn’t officially started at the academy?

It seemed he was well aware of the privileges afforded to Neydia students.

Most new students were unaware of such perks until after the entrance ceremony.

But Ethan had taken advantage of it beforehand. It meant he had done his research, familiarizing himself with the academy and its benefits.

It could also be interpreted as a sign of his eagerness to join the academy.

Sylvia turned away from the window, picking up Ethan’s file.

A thought struck her. He had already developed his own unique swordsmanship style.

“To survive.”

His answer, devoid of pretense, had struck a chord with her.

He had learned to wield a sword for the sole purpose of survival.

Was he running from someone?

Perhaps he was caught in the crossfire of a power struggle between noble families, or maybe his parents had been assassinated, leaving him alone and vulnerable.

If that were the case, it would explain his dedication to swordsmanship, his relentless pursuit of strength.

If he was truly seeking revenge, it would make sense for him to utilize the city transfer stone as soon as he had access to it. It would also explain his eagerness to enroll in the Hero Academy, his desperate need to become stronger.

Dania’s question interrupted her train of thought.

“But why do you want to personally train him?”

“Because I see potential in him,” Sylvia replied simply.

“Potential?”

“Did you see the look in his eyes?”

Dania thought back to their encounter earlier that morning. Ethan’s gaze had been intense, that much was true.

“He wasn’t afraid of me. He was determined to win.”

“Determined…?”

Sylvia nodded.

“Dania, every year, students drop out of the Hero Academy. Do you know why?”

Dania was taken aback by the sudden change of topic.

“Because they fail their courses?”

Sylvia nodded.

It was partly true.

Students who failed two or more courses were automatically expelled, which led some to leave voluntarily.

“But that doesn’t explain everything. Why would top-ranked students, students with promising futures, choose to leave of their own volition?”

“Hmm… I’m not sure.”

Graduating from the academy meant you could form a Hero Party.

Not just any ordinary adventuring party, but a Hero Party!

If you weren’t interested in risking your life in dangerous battles, you could join a Knight Order or a Mage Tower, securing a comfortable and prestigious job.

You wouldn’t have to start at the bottom. You would be given a management position.

Yet, since the founding of Neydia Academy, there had always been a steady stream of top-ranked students who chose to leave.

“I don’t know the answer, Lady Sylvia,” Dania admitted.

“The reason is simple. They reach a point where they realize the limitations of their talent. They encounter a wall they cannot overcome, and they give up.”

The gap that couldn’t be bridged with effort alone.

The despair of realizing they had reached their limit, that their talent wasn’t enough.

That’s what drove top-ranked students to abandon their dreams.

“Ah…”

Dania nodded in understanding.

“That boy carries a deep rage within him,” Sylvia said, her voice low.

He had lost his parents, forced to learn swordsmanship on his own, driven by the need to survive.

His rage was understandable.

He had entered the Hero Academy with a fierce determination, dedicating himself to physical training even before the semester had begun.

“He’s been fighting tooth and nail to overcome his lack of natural talent, fueled by that rage.”

“I see.”

“But what worries me is that his rage is misdirected. I want to help him before it consumes him.”

Perhaps, she thought, if they grew closer, she could convince him to let go of his need for revenge, to stop destroying himself from within.

Meanwhile, Ethan was busy cursing the author who had thrown him into this world, ranting about the unfairness of it all.

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