The Transmigrator Doesn’t Dream of Being the Protagonist – Chapter 11

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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“Ugh…”

My throat burned.

I felt a wave of nausea, accompanied by a pounding headache.

The effects were instantaneous.

Thud!

I slammed my head onto the desk.

“Ethan, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the wood.

My ancestors were waving at me from across the River Styx.

But it was fine. I would be fine.

I hadn’t crossed over yet.

Not yet.

“Sorry, guys, I’m still young!”

Damn it, I was hallucinating.

For the next ten minutes, I suffered through fever, headache, and nausea.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, it subsided.

The poison’s effects seemed to last for ten minutes.

“Alright, everyone, ten minutes are up. It’s time for your partners to drink.”

Arthur, after downing the poison, started foaming at the mouth and slumped over his desk.

Dude, get a grip!

You’re the protagonist!

I slapped him on the cheek, trying to bring him back to reality.

“In my next life, I want to be a lugworm,” he mumbled deliriously.

What kind of nonsense was that?

He was supposed to be saving the world from the Demon King, not wishing he was a bottom-feeding invertebrate.

Ten minutes later, Arthur sat up, shaking his head.

“Time to switch again. Another five milliliters for each of you.”

I glanced around the room.

Several students were trembling, dreading the next dose.

I picked up the vial, my hand shaking, and downed the poison in one gulp.

I saw my ancestors again, their faces clearer this time.

I started giggling.

This time, they were smiling.

“It’s not your time yet, kid!” one of them called out, his voice booming.

I giggled, meeting their gazes.

It was an unsettling sound.

My brain was melting.

Another ten minutes passed.

And just like before, the effects wore off abruptly.

We moved on to seven milliliters.

After three rounds of seven, we were given ten milliliters.

At fifteen milliliters, I found myself standing on a small island in the middle of the River Styx.

“Oi, where does he think he’s going!”

I was closer to my ancestors than ever before.

And this time, they weren’t smiling.

Their expressions were grim.

Would I be dead if I reached the other side?

Thankfully, when I drank the next fifteen milliliters, the distance between us had increased.

“Don’t you dare come over here, you hear me!”

“Fundamentals of Resistance Acquisition” was a three-hour class.

Three hours meant one hundred and eighty minutes.

Split between two people, that was ninety minutes each.

And to fill those ninety minutes, we had to drink the poison nine times.

Thankfully, the class ended after the fifteen-milliliter dose.

I was exhausted.

“If you’ve all consumed the required dosage, you should have acquired a new skill. Check your skill windows!”

Cassia clapped her hands together.

The students eagerly checked their skills.

I had acquired “Beginner Poison Resistance Level 2.”

Three hours of drinking poison had finally paid off.

I stretched, my body stiff and sore.

Arthur was talking to Professor Cassia, his expression eager.

“Professor, is there any way I can practice my poison resistance outside of class?”

Wow, this guy was insane.

I had read about it in the novel, but witnessing it firsthand…

I had forgotten.

The protagonist was also a hardcore grinder.

“I’m afraid not. Distributing poison outside of class is strictly prohibited. Imagine if something happened! I would be held responsible!”

As expected, she refused.

Thinking about it, Cassia wasn’t actually that bad.

Her teaching methods were a bit extreme, but she was just doing her job.

“Before you leave, please return the remaining poison and take an antidote. If you experience any symptoms after class, report to the infirmary immediately. Class dismissed!”

Arthur and I each took an antidote on our way out.

The poison’s effects were supposed to wear off after ten minutes, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Our next class was “Introduction to Hunting.”

The cheerful, childlike Professor Cassia was replaced by a stern, Snape-like instructor.

His name was Rond Giltian.

This class was surprisingly popular.

Because, well, hunting.

Skipping even a class like this would make it difficult to graduate from the academy.

And as the name suggested, “Introduction to Hunting” included practical exercises.

Reus, Sonny, Tia, Tesha, Anya…

And even Sepia were present.

She sat by the window at the back of the classroom, her chin resting on her hand, her gaze fixed on the world outside.

“Hey, Ethan! Did you make it back alright yesterday?”

Anya greeted me with her usual enthusiasm.

I mumbled a response.

Arthur, sitting beside me, bowed politely to Anya.

“Hello, I’m Arthur Pendragon, Ethan’s roommate.”

“Haha, I’m Anya! Anya Kargon. Nice to meet you!”

Arthur and I sat behind Anya.

The class began.

“I’m Rond Giltian, your instructor for Introduction to Hunting.”

Rond stood at the podium, his gaze commanding. A heavy silence fell over the classroom as he continued.

“Why do we study hunting? Can anyone answer that?”

Rond “The Hunter” Giltian.

He was known for his strictness and his high expectations.

He was infamous for giving out low grades and his perpetually cold and unapproachable demeanor.

His classes were informative, but incredibly dry.

I was already feeling sleepy.

I almost wished I was back in Professor Cassia’s class, enduring her poison-induced torture. At least it was entertaining.

“No one? I had such high hopes for this year’s batch of students.”

Rond sighed, his gaze sweeping over the classroom.

“There are many reasons why we study hunting, but the two most important are safety and efficiency.”

He was reciting lines straight from the novel.

To hunt safely.

To develop effective strategies for efficient hunting.

Those were the fundamentals of hunting.

“There are three main categories of prey: humanoid, non-humanoid, and giant.”

The lecture continued, devoid of any humor or attempts to engage the students.

Humanoid prey included goblins, skeletons, ghouls, and other creatures with a human-like form.

Non-humanoid prey encompassed everything else, including animals and monsters that didn’t resemble humans.

“Prey can be further classified into three behavioral patterns: aggressive, passive, and cooperative,” he droned.

I remembered reading about this in the textbook.

“Trolls and ogres are classified as aggressive monsters, known for attacking humans on sight. They also fall under the category of giant humanoid monsters.”

His authoritative voice commanded the attention of the students.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

This class was torture.

But I couldn’t afford to let Rond see me yawning. Just like you couldn’t yawn in Snape’s class.

And Arthur, ever the diligent student, had chosen to sit near the front. His presence made it impossible for me to zone out.

“As you all know, trolls possess incredible regenerative abilities. The longer a battle drags on, the more disadvantageous it becomes for the hunter. The ideal strategy is to decapitate them or pierce their hearts in a single blow. However, considering their average height of four to five meters, severing their heads is no easy feat.”

Trolls were notoriously difficult to hunt.

I glanced at the illustration of a troll in my textbook.

A hulking giant with long limbs and a potbelly.

I couldn’t help myself. I drew a mustache on the troll’s face, stifling a giggle.

I hid my amusement behind Anya’s broad back.

“I doubt anyone here wants to be captured by a troll and devoured alive, or worse, imprisoned in a cave and treated like livestock for the rest of their lives,” Rond said, his voice flat.

A wave of nervous laughter rippled through the classroom.

“So, here’s a question for you: what is the standard method for hunting a troll? Anya, how would you hunt a troll?”

Anya, who had been zoning out, snapped to attention.

I felt a pang of guilt, suddenly feeling the need to pay attention.

“Me? Well… I’d just smash it with my hammer until it died.”

Laughter erupted in the classroom.

It wasn’t an inaccurate assessment of Anya’s fighting style.

“That would be ideal, Anya Kargon. But advising novice adventurers to adopt that strategy would be a recipe for disaster.”

Rond’s gaze swept over the classroom, searching for his next target. He settled on Reus.

“Reus, what would you do if you encountered a troll?”

“I would cripple it by piercing its knees with my spear. And once it was down, I would pierce its heart.”

“Hmm, that’s half correct. Ethan, is there a better way?”

The methods for hunting trolls were well-known among adventurers, as described in the novel.

They were powerful creatures, blessed with incredible strength and regenerative abilities.

But even the most formidable monsters had weaknesses.

“I would target its Achilles’ heel. Once it was down, I would strike its vital points,” I replied confidently.

Severing the entire ankle was difficult, even for a skilled warrior.

But targeting the Achilles’ heel?

That was a more achievable goal.

At least, that’s what the novel had claimed.

Achilles winced at the mention of his namesake.

Ah, right, his weak point.

“Correct. If one party member can distract the troll while the others target its Achilles’ heel, the hunt is practically guaranteed to succeed.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of the first class.

“Take a ten-minute break,” Rond said, exiting the classroom.

The students erupted in chatter, relieved to have survived the first lesson.

Sepia, still by the window, caught my eye.

She looked like she wanted to say something.

But she quickly turned away, her expression unreadable.

She didn’t send me a message either.

I decided to let it go.

If she needed something, she would call for me.

The rest of the day’s classes passed without incident.

Well, they were excruciatingly boring, but at least they were uneventful.

And finally, it was time for the last class: “Practical Combat Training.”

Human versus human.

Arthur was paired with Reus, Sonny with Anya, Tesha with Sepia.

I watched Arthur and Reus with a hint of apprehension.

Arthur, despite his potential, was still no match for Reus.

He was, after all, a protagonist who grew stronger over time.

And thanks to my arrival, the original sparring matchups had been disrupted.

What was I supposed to do?

In the original story, Arthur was supposed to spar with Tia, their shared experience forging a bond of friendship.

And Tia…

“You seem distracted, Ethan.”

Her cool voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

Tia Erze stood before me, her expression unreadable.

“Ah, I apologize.”

Tia, the sole heiress of the Erze Trading Company, was destined to become a powerful figure in the empire.

Her sharp intellect and keen business acumen would lead her company to unprecedented success.

At this point in the story, the Erze Trading Company was mainly operating in the eastern region of the empire.

But in the novel, Tia played a vital role in…

Supporting Arthur, both financially and emotionally.

After graduating, she would focus on managing her company, leaving the adventuring to others.

She was one of those heroines who faded into the background, only reappearing whenever Arthur needed a financial boost or a shoulder to cry on.

The fans had even nicknamed her Arthur’s “ATM.”

“No harm done. Shall we begin our spar?”

The original plot was already unraveling.

Maybe I should try to get Tia on my side?

Who knew what the future held?

I wrapped my wooden sword in bandages, my mind racing.

And then I made a decision.

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