Surviving the Assassin Academy as a Genius Professor - Chapter 10

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 10
EP5 – The Saint of the Palace (1)

“Your Highness. May I enter?”

Kaiser Truman, team leader of Zamryong Academy, knocked carefully on the door to the second floor of the Zamryong Academy Building.
Upon receiving an answer, the attendant carefully opened the door. Kaiser limped in on his cane.
It was late at night.
The princess’s room was dark as well, lit only by a single candle.
Kaiser bowed his head to the princess, who lay in bed gazing into a hand mirror.

“I understand your troubles have not yet been resolved, but I have come to request something urgent.”
“…….”
“I shall speak directly. I believe I have finally found a professor whom our first-year students at Zamryong Academy ought to request guidance from.”
“…….”
“A newly arrived instructor. When I attempted to meet with him separately, I found his insight remarkably precise, and I could not fathom the depth of the man himself.”
“…….”

The princess gave no reply to these words, and Kaiser knew well that she was indifferent to matters that did not interest her above all others.
But the next statement would be different.

“I say without hesitation—he is several steps above me.”

Only then did the princess react. She set down the hand mirror and turned her gaze toward Kaiser.

“Who is it?”
“Professor Dante Hiakrapo. From the Assassination Department.”
“And the request for him as your advisor?”
“……That is somewhat embarrassing. I have made the request to him several times, yet the professor has refused. Perhaps I was simply insufficient.”

And so he had come to the princess.
For the weight of a request from the princess of the great Hiakra Kingdom would surely differ from his own empty plea.
Perhaps she might change his mind…….

“A trifling matter. Don’t grovel like a cur.”

Though Kaiser had never stretched out his hand to Rebecca even in the most difficult of circumstances, the desperation of not losing this professor made him bow his head.

“Very well. Go on.”

Kaiser bowed deeply and left the room.
And so the next morning, a letter was sent to Professor Dante.
It was a summons for him to meet with the princess.

* * *

It had been a week since I entered the game.

In that time, there had been several assassination attempts. I nearly took a blade while walking; I nearly caught a bullet; I nearly lost a leg to a trap; and once, while eating in the faculty dining hall, I watched a spoon dissolve in the soup. That I managed to appear unfazed through all of it was nothing short of a miracle.
My mind remained tense, yet these scolding words poured out so easily…….

“An assassination as clumsy as this couldn’t kill even my grandmother lying in her grave.”

My heart was still racing, yet why did such reproaches come so naturally to my tongue?

Through all of this, I was gradually adapting to life as a professor.

“Let us begin the lesson.”

This is the Assassination Department.
And today, I intend to speak about the Assassination Department and assassins themselves.

Warriors have three professions.
Warrior, mage, assassin.
Among these, the assassin is a profession cultivated solely for ‘destruction.’

Don’t warriors and mages also primarily engage in destruction?
Yes.
That’s true.
But if assassins differ from warriors and mages in one respect,
it’s that they are trained to unleash the maximum amount of power in the shortest time possible.

Warriors sustain combat over long periods.
Mages dominate the battlefield through broad magic.
But assassins must pour all their strength within mere tens of seconds to several minutes, and ensure their designated target is absolutely destroyed.

To use an analogy, assassins are missiles.

Thus, the Assassination Departments operated by each nation’s academies were, in essence, missile factories.

Within this analogy, Zamryong Academy was a nuclear missile—barely more than raw plutonium ore now, yet capable of reducing an entire nation to ash once completed.
But nuclear missiles require two buttons by necessity. So then, who holds those buttons?

a. Kaiser Truman
b. Princess Rebecca

I had already grasped (a) to some degree, so now it was time for (b).
I needed to assess Princess Rebecca.

Zamryong Academy would seek to kill me for a long time to come.
And within that place, I had to survive while nurturing them.
There was a very specific reason for this.
And it was this…

“Come forward one by one and submit your assignments.”

The students came forth and submitted their work.
There was a reason I had them come one at a time. The moment their bodies made contact with mine during this process, I could discern the value of that person’s Potential.
It was why I had carelessly extended my hand for a handshake.

“Here you are, Professor! And… I look forward to your continued guidance going forward!”

───
Derek Rohas [1.3]
───

“I worked hard on it.”

───
John MacCullin [1.4]
───

The number next to a name like this is called [Potential].
[Potential] literally refers to a person’s growth potential.

In system terms, a Potential value of [1.0] is ordinary.
[1.5] is an exceptional child.
[2.0] is a prodigy capable of becoming top of an entire academy.
Professors typically possess Potential ranging between [1.9] and [2.2].
From that perspective.

───
Elise Ksikos [2.8]
───

There it was.
Why Zamryong Academy mattered.
Because it was a collective of such monsters.

“Elise. What about your assignment—you came back empty-handed?”
“I forgot. Sorry about that.”
“Stand there with your hands up.”
“Yes, sir.”

Still, as a professor, she obeyed my orders at least—but judging by Potential alone, it was scarcely different from punishing a baby dragon.

It had been the same a few days ago.
On my way to Zamryong Academy Building, I’d quietly checked the Potential of Balmung Nibelung and Kaiser Truman.
With Balmung, it was during our handshake. With Kaiser, it was when I approached him to exchange contact information.
And I’d been horrified by what I found.

───
Balmung Nibelung [2.8]
───

Balmung, son of the Black Dark Constellation—he was indeed a monster, exactly as I’d thought.
In fact, in Hard Difficulty, this was a Potential that didn’t exist anywhere on the entire continent. The maximum in that world system was [2.5].
I felt the weight of this Hell Difficulty world grinding its teeth to kill me.
On the other hand,

───
Kaiser Truman [0.5]
───

I was dumbfounded at the sight of it.
A Potential of [0.5] meant he was half that of an ordinary person at [1.0]—among the dull, extraordinarily dull. Yet Kaiser held the position of team leader at Zamryong Academy.

This bastard…….
What kind of life was he even living…….

───
Forte Asimov [1.9]
Haru Han [1.5]
Dominic Dominic de Dominic III [0.9]
⋮
───

After that, when I verified all my students who attended my lectures, not a single one reached [2.0]. Forte from Wolvring Academy came closest at [1.9].

That was where it ended.

This was why I’d decided to meet someone who held the second button of the nuclear missile.
This morning, a letter arrived from the princess, and its contents were simply a request to talk.

‘The princess Rebecca…….’

Through Synchronization, information about Princess Rebecca came flooding in.
Princess Rebecca was quite a famous person in this world system.
Called the “Saint of the Palace,” a princess renowned for performing all manner of righteous and virtuous deeds.
She cast aside the peaceful life of the royal household and one day, quite unexpectedly, chose to enroll in the Assassination Department, which only made her more famous.
To the eyes of the world, it was ironic.
Assassins are tools, after all.
Yet I suspect her reasons for entering the Assassination Department were quite simple.
It was surely to bring this artificial monster collective—Zamryong Academy—under control.

‘Before jumping to conclusions, I should meet her once.’

After class ended, I made my way to Zone 0 Holy Mother Church.
A magnificent Gothic building.
A red light blinked intermittently, while smoke—symbolic of incense—curled upward from the chimney.

Inside the chapel, nearly dozens of people gathered. Solemn music drifted through the darkness.
At the center, some ten coffins stood in rows.
It was a funeral service.

“Hey. Move along quickly.”

Some low-ranking knight gave my forearm a light shove.
I turned around, and he turned to face me as well.

“What are you staring at? Go inside.”
……
“And after arriving late to the Princess’s event, no less. Why aren’t you going in?”

What a pointless wretch.
Not wanting to provoke needless conflict, I walked past him.

In any case.
The Assassination Department—whether students, expelled cadets, or professors—loses a considerable number of people, and the chapel holds a memorial service for them once a week.
That service was well underway now.
As I wove through the crowd, I caught snatches of whispered conversation.

“Is that really the Princess?”
“Yes. Remarkable, isn’t she? Turning away from an easy, comfortable path to come to this desolate place and offer prayers.”
“And seeing her in person… she’s so beautiful.”

Though visible from a distance, I decided to draw closer.
I pressed through the crowd, moving forward.
At last, before the great altar, I saw a young woman kneeling on the bare floor in prayer.

‘Ah.’

It was somewhat startling.
Hiakra Academy is a fabricated world.
Everyone—from Forte to Adel, Grey, Kaiser, and beyond—seemed like celebrities, as if God had sculpted them with care. Like actors in a divine drama.
Yet this person’s face appeared as if God had lavished particular pride upon her creation.
Bright golden hair.
Red eyes gazing with pity upon the coffins of the dead. Pale hands clasping memorial tokens.
A beautiful saint’s habit and earrings—surely the work of a master craftsman—cast a subtle radiance that rendered Rebecca all the more noble and graceful.
The “Saint of the Palace” sat before me, incarnate.

When Rebecca finished her prayer, she embraced the bereaved families permitted to approach, shedding tears alongside them.

“When she first began attending these funerals, I thought she’d stop after a few months.”
“Right. She couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen back then, and everyone assumed it was just what nobility does. She’s of royal blood, after all.”
“But seeing how she hasn’t missed a single week all these years, traveling throughout Hiakra—my mind changed.”

Words of admiration continued.
That’s quite impressive.
Though attending only funeral services, I doubt the intentions were entirely pure.
In my memories synchronized with Dante, Princess Rebecca was no saintly maiden of the palace.
She still wasn’t now.

【 Rebecca is using the Soul-Devouring Curse. 】

Something was seeping from the coffin into Princess Rebecca’s hands.
Invisible to the eye. The curse was too refined for that.

It was Curse Number 75—the Soul-Devouring Curse. A curse that sucked the Spirit Essence from the dead and absorbed it.
Spirit Essence served as material for countless curses, but it came with severe side effects; a powerful curse rebounded upon the caster.

‘…She’s playing a dangerous game.’

The Curse Class held one of the twelve seats among assassins. Yet those who relied on the Curse Class as their main strength rarely met a good end. The saying “dig two graves if you curse another” existed for a reason.

After some time, when the funeral service ended, Rebecca entered the vestry.
The letter had said to meet her there, so I approached—but someone blocked my path.

“Halt.”

It was the one who’d struck my arm when I entered the church earlier.

● Bartrick, the Guardsman Knight

A young man in armor. The badge on his chest marked him as a junior knight.
For a princess’s knight, his rank was remarkably low.

“This is the princess’s rest area. What business do you have?”
“I’m Dante, a professor of the Assassination Department. I’m here to see the princess.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Would I have come empty-handed?”
“That’s strange. I haven’t heard anything about it.”
“…….”

I stood silent, uncertain what he was getting at.
The man’s face twisted in a scowl, and he asked.

“Do you have proof? A letter, perhaps?”

Here I understood he was a complete novice—he didn’t know that royal letters, save for official documents and such important correspondence, were always destroyed after being read.

“Go inside and ask her. Ask if we have an appointment.”
“Why won’t you listen to me? Don’t you have any proof documents or letters?”
“…Private letters from the royal house vanish. How long have you even been employed? Stop talking nonsense and go ask her.”

The corners of his eyes crumpled.
His pride was wounded.

“How long I’ve worked is none of your damn business. And the princess dislikes being disturbed during her rest.”

I truly had no idea what he wanted.
So I checked the Script, and his psychology became clear.
He’d been disrespected by an Assassination Department professor not long ago. Despite being the princess’s newly trusted knight.
That humiliation had been circling in his head ever since. Now he was going to vent that resentment on me.

Soon, a maidservant approached from the other direction and whispered something. He seemed to realize his mistake, and his expression darkened.
Yet unable to swallow his pride alone, the Script showed he’d begun thinking of shaming me with a security inspection instead. In all my life, I’d never been treated this way.

“I’m withdrawing. Lower knight. We won’t be meeting.”

I turned to leave, but the man cried out.

“Hey! Where are you going?”
“Leaving.”
“Wait! I haven’t finished speaking. You need to go through a security check first, so come this way…”
“I won’t be meeting anyone. I was invited here as a guest, and I see no reason to accept such treatment. Handle the details of this matter yourself.”
“What did you just say?”

I turned away. I had no interest in engaging further.
That’s when he went too far—suddenly deploying Speed Step to cut me off and block my path.

“What do you think you’re doing, Professor?”
“I said I was leaving.”
“I told you—cooperate with the security check and I’ll let you through. Why won’t you comply?”

By then, the attendants and church officials nearby had begun exchanging worried glances. The air between him and me had clearly shifted.
Sensing something was wrong, a maidservant tried to intervene, but he brushed her off with “Move aside.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Undergo the security check while I’m still being reasonable.”
“Move, knight. Don’t block my way.”
“This bastard. You come to meet the princess and act arrogant?”

Then he drew the sword at his hip.

Shing—

“Will you come here or not?”

The steel blade gleamed blue in the light.
I paused and thought. Royal affiliation. Semi-noble rank. Even a princess’s knight. And this—a place of worship, nonviolent ground. And finally.

“Professor…”

Unable to stop the knight, even the maidservant turned to stop me.
I could find no reason here to resist him.
All I had to do was swallow my pride.
Wasn’t it simple? As a modern person, a member of society—I’d bent my pride in countless situations before.

“Fine. I was wrong.”
“Now you see? Come here, you bastard.”

He recovered his composure.
I stepped forward and pointed my index finger at his eyes.

“What are you—”

『 World Falsification: Phenomenon Falsification [Flash] 』

Light shot out like a bullet, driving straight into his eyes.
Crack—!
A flash so brilliant it cast shadows across the backs of the gathered crowd.

“What—what?!”
“What is that light!”

The attendants and clergy cried out in shock at the sudden turn of events.
The guardian knight took the light full in the eyes and crashed headfirst into the ground.

Crash!!

His eyes had been burned away.

“Aaaaaaaaaaagh―!!”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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