The Transmigrator Doesn’t Dream of Being the Protagonist – Chapter 3

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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“Alfredo, I’ll be on my way now.”

“Farewell, my lady.”

To think she could transform into such a docile lamb in front of Alfredo.

It was hard to believe she was the same Sepia from yesterday.

The lord of the estate, Halion, was currently away on business.

Therefore, his authority rested with his steward, Alfredo.

“Vivian will be sent over once the academy term begins, so don’t worry.”

According to Neydia Academy regulations, servants of noble families were only permitted entry to the dormitories after the entrance ceremony.

Fortunately, I was a student, so it didn’t apply to me.

“Let’s go, Ethan.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She marched ahead with confident strides.

And why weren’t we using our own carriage, you ask?

The reason was simple.

Sepia had decided it was safer to pay for a carriage at the city gates than to travel to the academy in a carriage bearing the Logness family crest.

There had been rumors of bandits near the city.

She saw no reason to risk the safety of the Logness coachman.

Why she couldn’t extend the same concern to her servants by refraining from taking out her frustrations on them was a mystery.

Come to think of it, she was worried about putting her servants in danger, but the safety of the common folk was a non-issue?

Well, this was a web novel where logic had been run over by a carriage. There was no point in scrutinizing every detail.

I sighed internally, of course.

As we neared the city limits, Sepia promptly dumped her luggage onto me. If she was going to do this, she might as well have told Alfredo she would carry her own bags and didn’t need a porter.

“Here, I put some money in for you.”

Was this the infamous gaslighting I had heard so much about?

It reminded me of being in the military, when my seniors would make me carry their gear during marches.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll keep it safe.”

“My money pouch is in there too. Make sure you take good care of it. If you lose it, you’re fired.”

“…”

“Entrusting you with my money pouch means I trust you that much.”

I gritted my teeth and nodded.

“I’m eternally grateful to the Logness family, ma’am.”

“You should be. I also… never mind.”

I walked alongside my lady, navigating the bustling city streets.

We eventually stopped at the carriage stand near the city gates. As expected, Sepia desired to travel by carriage.

Anything to avoid unnecessary exertion, as befitting a noble lady.

“Go talk to the coachman.”

I trudged over to the coachman, who was busy grooming his horse.

“Are you heading to Neydia Academy by any chance?”

“Neydia Academy? We’ll go anywhere if you can pay the fare.”

“Great. Neydia Academy, then, please.”

The coachman sized me up, his eyes curious as to why someone like me was headed to the Hero Academy.

“A Hero candidate, are you?”

“Yes, sir. I recently passed the entrance exam.”

“And that young lady? Your companion?”

She’s more likely to be indulging in regret, suffering, and self-pity soon enough.

Because I, her servant, am now a transmigrator.

“No, sir. She’s the lady I serve.”

“Is that so? You don’t have that… what do you call it, the Hero’s Mark, do you? You must have gotten in through skill.”

Even I didn’t know what skills had gotten me into that academy.

“Something like that, sir.”

“I saw someone with the Hero’s Mark just the other day.”

The Hero’s Mark.

Or, more accurately, the Hero Candidate’s Mark.

The mark appeared on those chosen by the goddess to be Hero candidates.

Those deemed worthy of becoming heroes were marked by the goddess herself.

The mark could appear on anyone, regardless of status or race. It was the sudden appearance of this mark that had paved the way for Arthur to enter the academy.

On top of that, our dear protagonist had also received a status window.

Talk about protagonist privileges.

He must be having a blast, holed up in his dorm room, giggling to himself as he opened and closed his status window.

Not all students at the academy possessed the Hero Candidate’s Mark. Some aspiring heroes entered without it, while others enrolled simply to further hone their skills.

After all, it was the empire’s most prestigious educational institution.

A diploma from Neydia Academy was a guaranteed ticket to success.

I also intended to get my hands on that diploma, seeing as I was trapped in this world for the foreseeable future.

For these reasons, students from every corner of the empire flocked to the academy. Of course, once enrolled, all students received the Hero’s Mark on their right hand, along with a skill window.

“Rumor has it that the acceptance rate is quite high this year.”

“I heard that too, sir.”

“Hah, it’s a sign of the impending apocalypse, wouldn’t you say?”

I needed to end this conversation with the overly chatty coachman before it dragged on further. Sepia was glaring daggers at me, and I could practically feel the heat of her stare on my back.

“My apologies, sir, but it seems my lady requires my attention.”

“Ah, right. Of course, of course. Off you go then.”

I paid the fare and climbed into the carriage.

And immediately set about unloading the luggage.

“Hey, Ethan, what are you doing?”

It dawned on me what Sepia wanted.

She was expecting me to offer her my hand to help her into the carriage.

I extended my hand towards Sepia.

She gracefully took it and stepped inside.

She sat across from me, a disgruntled expression on her face.

“You know what? Lately, you’ve been really… never mind. I must be imagining things.”

Sepia’s eyes bored into me.

Surely she wasn’t about to hit me with a cliché horror movie line like, “Who are you?”

The thought made me shudder. I avoided her gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You were the one who…”

“Don’t talk back.”

“My apologies, ma’am.”

I forced a smile, my teeth clenched.

The carriage slowly started moving.

“Hey, Ethan.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Why are you acting so uppity these days? Did getting into the Hero Academy go to your head? Don’t forget who’s paying your tuition….”

Just then, a figure came sprinting towards us.

“Wait! Wait!”

The figure wore a hood, obscuring their face.

A husky voice, definitely female, called out. The figure used their momentum to leap towards the moving carriage.

With an impressive jump, they landed on the carriage step. But their landing was less than graceful, and they stumbled, about to fall backward.

“Whoaa!”

Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed her wrist.

She tumbled into the carriage, landing with a thud.

“Whew, thanks! I almost cracked my head open back there.”

“Are you alright?”

“I am now, thanks to you.”

I took a good look at her.

Tanned skin, reddish-brown hair.

A glimpse of toned abs beneath her cloak.

And a massive warhammer strapped to her back.

Her appearance and attire left no room for doubt.

It was Anya, the Crimson Berserker.

The barbarian warrior destined to become one of the ten strongest heroes, renowned throughout the land as a member of the elite Hero Party.

She had earned her moniker, the Crimson Berserker, from the countless enemies whose skulls she had crushed, their blood and brains splattering her armor.

It was cheesy, but what could you do? The world of adventurers was full of such grandiose nicknames. The Flaming Axe, the Lightning Blade… the list went on.

Nicknames were inherently cheesy, it seemed.

I suddenly felt a burning sensation on the back of my neck.

Sepia was staring at me.

“Let go of her hand.”

Her gaze was a command.

Only then did I realize I was still holding onto Anya’s wrist.

I quickly released my grip.

“So, are you all going to Neydia Academy?”

Her hearing must have been sharper than the average person’s. She had obviously overheard my conversation with the coachman.

“Yes,” I replied.

Anya, being a barbarian warrior, wasn’t well-versed in the customs and etiquette of city life.

That’s why she had initially addressed everyone informally at the start of the semester.

Considering her easygoing nature, I figured I didn’t need to be overly formal with her.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Anya. Anya Kargon. What are your names?”

“Ethan.”

“Haha, your name is similar to mine.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

Anya extended her hand toward me.

“I hear this is how civilized folk greet each other.”

“Ah, yes… Nice to meet you.”

I hastily shook her hand.

Her grip was firm, to say the least.

I quickly withdrew my hand as I felt Sepia’s stare burning into me once more.

She hated it when others touched what she considered hers. Even if it was just a handshake with her servant, who, in her mind, was just another possession.

“What’s your name?”

Anya turned to Sepia, a friendly smile on her face.

“Anya Kargon, was it? I’m afraid this carriage is already occupied.”

Sepia’s attempt at politely asking her to find another carriage was admirable.

However, Anya, blessed with an airheaded demeanor and an impenetrable layer of obliviousness, was immune to such subtleties.

“Oh, sorry about that. This was the only carriage left, so I just hopped on. I’m not too familiar with the way, you see. I got completely lost yesterday. I can pay you for the trouble, of course.”

Sepia’s brows furrowed.

“I prefer my personal space,” she said stiffly.

“But this carriage is so spacious!”

I bit back a laugh, digging my nails into my thigh to suppress my amusement.

Leave it to Anya to take Sepia’s statement literally, a testament to her barbarian upbringing.

“Way to go, Anya! Show her the power of a barbarian!”

Sepia’s expression was priceless.

And Anya had a point. The carriage was spacious.

It was an eight-seater, after all.

We could probably squeeze in twelve people if we really wanted to.

“Spaciousness is relative… Ugh, why am I even explaining this?”

Sepia seemed to have an epiphany, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

Her eyes darted to me, a silent plea for help.

She couldn’t bring herself to directly ask Anya to leave.

It seemed I had to intervene.

Anya was destined for greatness. It was best not to antagonize her, considering the unpredictable nature of events in this world.

But why had our paths crossed with Anya’s?

In the original story, Sepia and Anya hadn’t met before entering the academy.

The reason for this unexpected encounter was most likely due to Sepia’s altered departure time.

And Sepia’s early departure was because of me.

I had mentioned wanting to familiarize myself with the academy grounds before the entrance ceremony, and Sepia, never one to be outdone, had insisted on accompanying me.

And my insistence on an early arrival at the academy?

That was motivated by my desire to snag some pre-academy advantages.

My seemingly insignificant actions were already creating ripples in the established narrative.

A headache was building behind my eyes.

All I wanted was to let the protagonist handle the heroing while I enjoyed the benefits. Why was this happening?

What if I forced Anya out of the carriage, turning them into sworn enemies?

The potential consequences were terrifying. Who knew what kind of butterfly effect this could trigger?

Even dealing with the tension between these two women was giving me a headache. How did Arthur Pendragon, our dense protagonist, handle the constant drama within his harem?

I felt a flicker of respect for the guy.

Of course, our dear protagonist, as befitting his role in a harem-themed novel, was completely oblivious to the subtle nuances of female emotions.

Every time a heroine poured her heart out to him, his trademark response was “What?” effectively solidifying his status as the king of misunderstandings.

Ugh, why had I ever enjoyed this frustrating web novel?

Anyway, Arthur and his party were the ones tasked with saving the world. My priority was to survive this mess with my sanity intact.

It was all that damn author’s fault.

“My lady, I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

I discreetly gestured towards Anya.

“May I have a word with you in private?”

I leaned in, intending to whisper in Sepia’s ear.

At that moment, the carriage lurched to a sudden stop.

The abrupt halt sent me flying forward, landing squarely in Sepia’s lap.

“Are you insane? What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I-I apologize. The carriage suddenly…”

“Just get off me!”

Mortified, I scrambled back to my seat.

Then, I heard it.

The distinctive whirring of arrows cutting through the air.

Don’t tell me… No way.

Were we really under attack by bandits?

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