I Became the Teacher of a Troll Tribe

Chapter 1: Transference (1)

I opened my eyes.

It was a room blocked off by iron bars.

A piercing headache struck me, and I realized my hands were cuffed.

What the hell?

I had just returned from the academy and thrown myself onto the bed in exhaustion.

And now, I was here, caught in an unfamiliar procession.

"Useless. Next!"

A phlegm-laden voice rang out from outside, and the line moved forward. Then came the sound of a blood-curdling scream.

"Aaaaaargh!"

Through the gap in the iron bars, I saw someone on their knees being dragged away somewhere.

"No, no! Please, spare me! You monsters!"

Blood dripped from his knees, which were pressed against the floor.

There was no mercy.

Soon, he disappeared into the darkness, dragged by a creature with violet skin and sharp fangs.

"...To the left."

The next person in line was sent to a different area.

"Next!"

As the raspy voice called out again and the line shortened, the situation became clearer.

If the creature seated outside the cage assigned someone to the left—from my perspective, the right—they lived.

If sent to the opposite side, they died.

How did I know this?

The creature that had dragged the man away earlier returned alone.

Its spear tip was stained with thick, dark blood.

"Useless. Next!"

"AAAAH!"

Another scream tore through the air.

This time, it was a woman.

"Next!"

The man standing in front of me began trembling like a leaf.

"This… this doesn’t make any sense…"

Finally realizing the gravity of the situation, he muttered under his breath. Then, he suddenly shouted—

"Status window! Skill window! Damn it! Inventory!"

Gripping his head with his cuffed hands, he started yelling phrases one might hear in a game.

"Trait window! Damn it! Just give me something—anything!"

"Next!"

And then it was his turn.

The man, now utterly unhinged, shuffled out through the iron door.

The adjudicator spoke to him, saying something I couldn’t hear clearly.

The man, desperate as he was, responded with fervor.

"Useless. Next!"

"You damned troll bastards!"

Did he understand what those words meant?

The man lunged at the creature with his cuffed hands raised.

Schwick!

Before his knees could even fully rise, a spear came down from above and pierced him.

"Ugh…"

The man collapsed.

Thud!

The commotion behind me erupted into chaos.

Murmurs turned to screams, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

...Because it was now my turn.

"Next!"

I was dragged out of the cage to face the creatures.

A sticky sensation met my feet.

I raised my head and looked ahead.

Two creatures sat comfortably, watching.

Another held a spear.

To the right were the terrified remnants of the "selected," kneeling on the floor.

One more creature, holding a double-edged axe, seemed to be keeping them in line.

I glanced between the two seated creatures.

What in the world were their criteria for determining life and death?

What exactly did "useless" mean?

...Could I survive?

I knelt.

The adjudicator opened his mouth.

"Do you have a skill?"

The creature beside him repeated the question almost immediately.

"Do you have a skill?"

…?

What was with these parrot-like creatures?

"We don’t have much time. If you have a skill, state it."

"There’s little time. State your skill."

Whenever the adjudicator spoke, the other would repeat the same message with slight differences in phrasing.

It was as though one was translating for the other.

"Answer, human. Your life depends on your answer."

"Answer, human. Your life depends on your answer."

Yet strangely, both voices sounded identical to me.

My mind raced as I watched the two creatures glance at each other and exchange words.

"Judging by his silence, he must be useless."

"Still, we’ve had two decent catches so far. It wouldn’t be odd if there were no more today."

"Ugh… It’s still unsatisfying, though."

The adjudicator clicked his tongue in irritation.

"There’s no need to waste time. Useless! Next—"

That’s when it happened.

"W-wait! I have a skill!"

The moment I heard "useless"—a word synonymous with "death" here—I instinctively shouted out.

[Master of Languages!]

Possesses exceptional aptitude for learning other species’ languages.

Human (100%)

Troll (100%)

Yellow text appeared before me, written in a font I knew all too well.

And at that moment, I was certain.

I was inside the game Arcane Chronicle.

***

Grrrrrr!

I boarded the carriage pulled by a tamed raptor.

The pounding headache gradually subsided.

For the first time, I felt as though the fear of death had finally eased.

…There are four survivors, including me.

For now, I have survived.

I was spared because I could speak their language.

Or rather, because I could speak the language of what I now knew were trolls.

I can’t believe it’s really the trolls from .

The open-world MMORPG that once enthralled players worldwide.

With its high level of freedom, vast content, large-scale battlefield systems that immersed players just by watching, hidden secrets scattered across the expansive continent, and a variety of character-building methods tailored to individual tastes, it was hailed as a masterpiece that set a milestone in RPG gaming.

But that was a long time ago.

Outdated graphics, a uniquely hardcore system, and the sluggish management by the developers had reduced it to a relic of the past.

Even so, retained a loyal fanbase who couldn’t let go of its distinctive atmosphere.

I was one of those veterans.

With the Korean server nearly deserted, I’d spent the past few years playing on overseas servers.

It was a lonely road, but the game had been a significant part of my otherwise uneventful life for the past decade.

Of course, as an English instructor, I had no trouble navigating the foreign servers.

Could it be?

It seemed absurd, but the evidence was overwhelming.

Was the reason I had been granted the hidden trait [Master of Languages!] and could fluently speak Trollish because of my real-life experience teaching foreign languages?

As my mind formed a hypothesis, I decided to test it by speaking to the other survivors in the carriage.

"Excuse me."

The atmosphere in the carriage was heavy.

It was clear that no one had fully recovered from what had just happened.

"Yes…?"

My first target was the woman sitting across from me.

She was a blonde foreigner, likely a gamer from Europe or North America.

"You saw it too, didn’t you? The yellow text."

"Y-yeah, I saw it. It was a trait, like the ones in the game I played…"

"Arcane Chronicle."

With the confirmation from the man sitting diagonally across and the nod from the young man beside me,

it became clear that everyone in the carriage was a player of .

Not that this was surprising.

What I wanted to confirm was whether there was a connection between our real-world professions and the traits we had received.

"What trait did you get? And… if you don’t mind, what’s your profession in real life?"

"Ah… I was…"

The woman, a graduate student pursuing a Ph.D. in engineering from the UK, had the trait [Magical Engineering].

The white man, a dentist from Canada, introduced himself and had the trait [Innate Chill].

The young, dark-skinned man was a soldier and had received [Dexterous Hands].

Hmm…

The British woman having [Magical Engineering] made sense.

But the dentist and soldier’s traits seemed unrelated to their professions.

So, it’s inconclusive for now.

As I mulled over my failed hypothesis, the dentist spoke up.

"Hey, does everyone only have one trait?"

Huh?

Why ask something like that?

"Yes… even if I check again, I only have [Magical Engineering]. Did you get more than one?"

The dentist hesitated for a moment before shaking his head.

"Ahem, no. Just one, like everyone else. Just thought I’d ask."

His tone was suspicious, but there was no way to verify his claim.

Still, how had he checked again? "Excuse me, but how did you check your trait again? I haven’t seen any text since earlier."

"Oh! I figured it out after some trial and error. If you say ‘Abilities!’ out loud or think it in your head, it shows up again."

So that was the trick.

I recalled the man who died after shouting “Status window!”

If he had tried “Abilities,” would it have worked?

So I just need to think about it?

I calmed myself and tested the woman’s claim.

Abilities.

[Master of Languages!]

Possesses exceptional aptitude for learning other species’ languages.

Human (100%)

Troll (100%)

Oh, it really works!

But… What's the point of this?

The novelty wore off quickly.

It wasn’t exactly an impressive trait.

Of all things, I had to get this…

Then, it happened.

What?

A cascade of yellow text filled my vision, flooding it completely.

[Master of Black Flames]

Wields the unquenchable black flames of the demon lord Ogrehampton.

[Descent of the Shadow]

Imbues your weapon with shadow attribute aura for a limited time.

[Survival Instinct]

Detects impending threats.

[Eyes of the Dark Priest]

Darkness no longer obscures your vision. Greatly enhances dynamic sight and provides clear visibility in darkness.

[Unyielding Will]

Grants a resilient mental state. Significantly increases resistance to pain and mental disturbance effects.

[Calm Mind]

Maintains remarkable composure in any situation.

What the hell.

Seven base traits?

Gulp.

I carefully read through each piece of text.

It all felt eerily familiar.

Of course, it did—these were the traits of the characters I had been using until just yesterday.

Some descriptions had been slightly altered, as if a "realism patch" had been applied.

But one thing was certain: every single trait was S-rank or higher.

…

With this, I might just have a chance.