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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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It took three days.
Three days for me to realize that I had been transported into a novel.
Though I wasn’t sure if this could even be called transmigration.
I had entered the world of the novel with my own body and face, only to become a servant. Whether to call it transmigration or reincarnation, I couldn’t tell. Perhaps “transreincarnation” would be a fitting compromise.
Anyway.
Surprisingly, I seemed to have been granted a setting where I was more proficient in swordsmanship and etiquette than the average person. At least, that was the only explanation for why I survived my first day, which included sparring with Sepia.
In terms of skill levels, I’d say I was at least a Level 4 Swordsman.
Well, it would be a plot hole if someone who got into Neydia Academy based on skill was worse at swordsmanship and magic than a regular person.
Knowing that damn author, he probably set me up to be the worst student in the academy.
Just another way to make my life miserable.
The author’s despicable and petty tricks were so obvious.
“Hey, where’s Ethan?”
I heard Sepia von Logness calling for me.
Logness, one of the ten great families of the continent.
And Sepia von Logness, the sole daughter of that family.
The only child of the Logness family head, pampered and spoiled, with an ego that knew no bounds.
“Ethaan—!”
Her shrill voice grated on my nerves.
And for the record, Ethan was my name in this world.
Along with this sudden and inexplicable journey into a fictional world, I had been forced to adopt a new name, as if going through a forced name change.
Why was I even here?
Dragged from the 21st century into a novel, only to become a servant?
My experience with a hierarchical society in the military was more than enough.
My stomach churned.
My mental state had long since shattered.
Footsteps approached, each step radiating anger.
Bang!
The door burst open, revealing a stunningly beautiful woman.
Pink hair cascading down to her shoulders, piercing blue eyes reminiscent of a feline predator, she was Sepia von Rogness, the rising star of high society.
Clutching her long skirt, she strode towards me with purpose.
“Ethan, you should answer immediately when I call you.”
“I apologize.”
Surprisingly, I was fluent in this world’s language.
Truly, a convenient plot device courtesy of the author.
And I used to read this crap and grin like an idiot.
I wanted to slap my past self for being so foolish.
Sepia’s forehead creased with anger.
She reached for me.
I took a step back.
She was probably going to pull my ear.
I had been caught off guard yesterday, but I wouldn’t let her do that again.
Yesterday, she had pulled so hard that I almost cried.
“What are you doing? Come here, Ethan.”
“Lady Logness…”
“I said come here!”
According to the novel’s setting, Ethan had been Sepia’s personal swordsman for many years.
Of course, I had no memories of that…
That was the conclusion I had drawn after three days of gathering information.
He had endured Sepia’s abuse for a long time.
Sepia had probably forced Ethan to his knees countless times.
That was her style; if she disliked a servant, she would use telekinesis to force them to kneel.
The original character who served Sepia was Vivian, a maid.
A living saint who had endured Sepia’s atrocious behavior.
I had to admire her patience.
“Ethan!”
Sepia reached for me again.
“Please mind your manners, Lady Logness.”
“…You…”
“The entrance ceremony is only a few days away.”
Sepia bit her lower lip.
“Ethan, how dare you imitate Alfredo?”
Alfredo.
The head butler of the Rogness family in ‘Dragon-strongest.’
The only servant who could stand up to Sepia.
He also served as the family head’s personal servant, which meant that even Sepia, with all her spoiled behavior, wouldn’t dare disrespect him.
“My lady, you must control yourself at Neydia Academy.”
I adopted a stern tone.
If she continued acting like this at the academy, her reputation would plummet, and she would be lucky to avoid being ostracized.
Of course, Sepia, known as the “Flower of High Society,” would likely wear a mask and hide her true nature.
“If you keep this up, I’ll leave you in the territory and go to the academy alone.”
That wouldn’t do.
Because the Logness territory would later be half-destroyed by a demon invasion.
The chances of a character named Ethan surviving that?
Slim to none.
Damn it.
It would have been satisfying to watch Sepia beg Arthur for help.
Sepia, with all her pride, on her knees, crying and begging for his assistance.
And Arthur, the clueless fool, agreeing to help without hesitation.
That’s how Sepia joined his party, whitewashed her past with a tragic backstory, and became another member of his harem.
“Ethan!”
Her irritated voice snapped me back to reality.
She beckoned with her finger.
I obediently presented my ear.
“Aren’t you going to apologize?”
“…”
“What are you waiting for? You disobeyed your master. You need to apologize.”
“I apologize.”
Finally satisfied, Sepia pinched my earlobe.
It brought back memories of being punished by seniors in the military.
But for some reason, her grip was weaker than yesterday.
“Good. I’ll let you off with that for today.”
Damn it.
I needed something refreshing, something satisfying.
I understood now why people craved that feeling of catharsis.
“Hey, Ethan.”
“You called?”
“You’ve been… different lately. Never mind.”
She was about to say that I had changed.
Of course I had.
I had no idea who this “Ethan” guy was.
How could I possibly act like a character the author had created to torment me?
From what I had gathered, he was an orphan who had been sold into servitude at a young age.
The fact that he hadn’t run away from the Logness family was a testament to his endurance.
“Finish your preparations for the academy. We leave in 14 days.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It was I who needed protection, not her.
He might have passed the academy entrance exam, but this Ethan was weak, both in swordsmanship and magic.
Sepia, on the other hand, had inherited the magical talent of her family.
Damn bloodline privilege.
She turned and left without another word.
As a transmigrator, I decided to focus on acquiring advantages within the framework of the original story.
What if I ended up changing the plot?
I didn’t care.
Survival came first.
Besides, the story was already deviating from the original, considering I was here, occupying a character named Ethan.
This messed-up novel had a decent number of academy students who died ridiculous deaths, even in the original story.
It was supposed to be the strongest academy in the empire, yet it was infiltrated by demons.
Threatened by fanatic cults.
The whole thing was riddled with plot holes.
But what could I do?
That was the story I was stuck with.
Speaking of plot holes, the fact that no one batted an eyelid at my black hair and Asian features.
Maybe the author had tweaked the setting a bit.
Regardless, if I didn’t graduate from the academy, even if the protagonist successfully stopped the evil forces, my life as a servant wouldn’t change.
From the freedom of the 21st century to this monarchy-ridden world? It was enough to drive anyone crazy.
How could I understand the warped mind of an author who decided to throw me into this world – reincarnated and transmigrated – because I had exposed his schemes?
And to survive in this damn world, I needed that academy diploma. As befitting the empire’s top educational institution, repeated failures resulted in expulsion.
To avoid expulsion, I needed every advantage I could get.
“Ugh… I need a status window.”
Meanwhile, our esteemed protagonist was probably reveling in his newfound power, excitedly checking his status window and allocating stat points.
He must be thrilled at the prospect of pretending to be weak and then surprising everyone with his hidden strength.
And here I was, struggling without even a basic status window.
Sure, I would get a skill window upon entering the academy.
But that was a big “if.”
I had no stat window, no quest log, no inventory.
I ran a hand through my hair in frustration.
“Ethan, Lady Sepia has an order for you.”
It was Vivian, the maid, standing at the door.
Sepia’s personal maid, just like in the original story.
“What is it?”
“She’s asked me to open the armory for you. You are to choose your equipment.”
Open the armory?
Suddenly?
Why would Sepia do that?
Countless questions flooded my mind.
Her motives were a mystery, but I wouldn’t question my luck.
I wouldn’t let this opportunity slip away.
Creak.
The heavy door groaned open, revealing the dimly lit interior of the armory. Magical lamps cast a pale glow on the walls.
“Please choose your weapons and armor.”
I stepped into the Rogness family warehouse.
Countless swords and suits of armor adorned the walls like decorations.
“She really said I can choose anything?”
“Yes. It was Lady Sepia’s direct order.”
“Interesting.”
I slowly scanned the rows of sword hilts.
Then, a sword tucked away in a corner caught my eye.
A worn hilt, a faded grip.
But the true worth of a sword lay in its blade and its craftsmanship.
Shing—
The blade slid from its scabbard.
A somber, black blade, gleaming with an understated elegance.
In that moment, a memory surfaced.
Could it be…? an Arken steel sword?
The Arken steel sword.
Long ago, in the now-defunct Arken mines, a rare metal called black steel was once mined. Swords forged from this black steell were known as Arken steel swords.
Early in the story, Arthur Pendragon, after receiving the hero’s mark, visited a blacksmith to choose a weapon before entering Neydia Academy. The blacksmith had impulsively proposed a wager: choose the best sword in the shop, and it would be his for free.
Thinking about it, the very presence of an Arken steel sword in a small village blacksmith’s shop was a plot hole in itself.
When someone pointed this out in the comments, the author had added an afterword, mentioning that the blacksmith, Fergus, used to be an adventurer.
Our protagonist, guided by the “call of the sword,” had chosen the Arken steel sword.
Of course, the sword hadn’t literally called out to him. It was just Arthur’s dramatic way of putting it.
I remembered Fergus chuckling and asking, “Why did you choose that sword, young man?”
To which Arthur had replied, “I’ve heard that a true sword chooses its own master. I was simply drawn to its call.”
In the real world, uttering such a line would probably get you diagnosed with early-onset psychosis.
Or at the very least, labeled as a chuunibyou patient.
Regardless, the Arken steel sword had served Arthur well in the early stages of the story. And whenever his classmates at the academy, blinded by their prejudice against his orphan status, saw the black blade, they always said the same thing.
“Damn it, how did you get your hands on an Arken steel sword…!”
Clichéd villain dialogue, every single time.
‘Could that really be an Arken steel sword?’
‘That sword is worth more than a dozen carriages!’
‘Maybe he’s from a fallen noble family after all?’
Their collective intelligence seemed to plummet at the sight of the black blade, their assumptions reaching truly absurd levels.
Anyway.
The somber black blade, radiating an aura of quiet power, definitely resembled an Arken steel sword.
“What do you think of this sword?”
I casually asked Vivian.
Vivian was knowledgeable about swords.
She was, after all, a “battle maid.”
Another setting that appeared out of nowhere, a detail that had no foreshadowing in the original story.
But I assumed it applied here as well.
“I wouldn’t know, sir.”
“Hmm, to my untrained eye, this looks like it might be an Arken steel sword.”
For a brief moment, Vivian’s eyes flickered with surprise.
But she quickly regained her composure.
“Is that so… Now that you mention it, I believe I’ve heard that a black blade is a characteristic of Arken Steel.”
If this wasn’t a lucky break, I didn’t know what was.
I chose the sword and a leather breastplate reinforced with steel plates.
It was time to accompany my dear lady to the academy.
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