Surviving the Assassin Academy as a Genius Professor - Chapter 102

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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 102
EP24 – Department of Illusion Magic Professors (2)

Someone swallowed hard. The gulp echoed audibly through the chamber. Before stepping into the Main Lecture Hall, the professors had been laughing and chattering with one another. But the moment they crossed the threshold, their expressions hardened and their voices fell silent.

Inherent superiority is preserved because it remains unspoken. The moment you thrust it into open competition, that’s when the mind—deaf and blind to everything else, convinced of its own excellence—shatters. Because there is always someone better than yourself somewhere.

By the time you’ve reached the professors’ age, everyone knows this. And so, when they were either sitting with their eyes closed in meditation or busying themselves with a Crystal Orb to kill the tension—
the Main Lecture Hall’s door swung open.

“…Hm? That man….”

All eyes converged on the entrance. A disheveled professor was stepping inside. Round, thick spectacles. Unkempt hair. A slight stoop that made him appear shorter than he was.

The professor’s name was Matte.
One of the assistant professors under the traitor Glumi.
The Magic Department’s official pariah.

“Ah, what? I thought it’d be Dante, the Chief Professor.”
“Ugh, even someone like him had to show up for this.”
“Still can’t tell where he belongs and where he doesn’t….”

Scoffing remarks cascaded through the hall.
There was reason enough for this.

Assistant Professor Matte had aided Glumi in the rebellion, and played a part in transferring materials to Croitz.
After the Croitz incident ended, he was brought to trial, but it was proven that he didn’t even know he was committing treason, and the charges were dropped.

But being cleared of charges hardly made anyone view him kindly.
In the end, Matte was an accomplice to treason—and in the midst of it all, Glumi had taken the other assistant professors with him, but abandoned Matte.
What a pitiful spectacle.

“Tsk, I’ll give you credit for hanging on so stubbornly.”
“Why would you give him that?”
“Pardon?”

At that moment, Lambda—the senior professor in the Department of Illusion Magic with the greatest influence—clicked his tongue and spoke.

“His lack of perception probably explains why he was the one left behind when his master abandoned him.”
“Ah, is that so?”
“One must understand their place. That’s what matters. Without it, are they even human?”

The professors agreed, laughing as if his words were profound truth.
Assistant Professor Matte didn’t even bother to pretend to listen.
Yet not everyone savored such mockery equally. Among ten people, there are ten different hearts, and not all delighted in such cruelty.
Unable to bear it, an elderly professor approached Matte and spoke to him.

“Listen, Assistant Professor Matte.”
“…Yes.”

Vacant eyes turned to regard the elderly professor.
The old man spoke with concern in his voice.

“Don’t take their words to heart. They don’t know anything—all they do is point fingers.”
“…Yes.”
“But I’d rather you didn’t just sit and listen, either.”
“…Yes?”
“You must preserve your dignity. When they continue their jabs, push back. The more you endure in silence, the easier a target you become.”

Matte shook his head.

“…What place does pride have before the pursuit of knowledge? I’ve simply come seeking the opportunity to learn.”
“No, no—even so, my friend. If you ask me, it’s just frustrating to watch.”
“…Thank you, Professor.”

Assistant Professor Matte lowered his head.

……

Assistant Professor Matte was a mage too. Within him burned that same fierce superiority, that same pride of self.
Had he not struck the wall of reality, he might have become much like those mages who looked down on others with such disdain.

But now, all that remained in him was desperation.

‘I have nothing left.’

Glumi, the Chief Professor who had been his sole lifeline, had betrayed Hiaka.
Now not only the other professors, but the department itself was suggesting he resign.
If he gave up his career and returned to the countryside?
His aging parents were tilling a plot of land no bigger than a palm, raising a single sickly goat.
As an assistant professor, he spent most of his salary on research materials—he couldn’t even remember his parents’ birthdays.
Such was his life.
Now his existence held no hope, no future whatsoever.
And then came this opportunity: to attend Chief Professor Dante’s lectures alongside every professor in the Department of Illusion Magic.
But only if he passed this test.

‘Perhaps this is my last chance……’

He turned his gaze toward the window.
Even now, looking out, he could see that enormous tree threading across one edge of the sky—that magnificent tree which became invisible if one truly wished not to see it.
He might receive instruction from the one who had created it.
This was the greatest opportunity of his life; perhaps the first and only one he would ever have.

……

Assistant Professor Matte waited in this state of mind for the test proctor to arrive.
And as Professor Matte and the other professors from the Department of Illusion Magic waited with bated breath—

The door swung open.

A figure stepped into the Main Lecture Hall.

Undulating black hair, crimson eyes ringed with the marks of a hunter, a gait as quiet yet unhurried as a crouching beast rising to walk. An assassin was entering the lecture hall itself.

Under normal circumstances, such a presence would evoke strong aversion in mages. Assassins were inconvenient creatures to them, after all.
To be judged by such a being—they had never even dared imagine it. But today was different.

“A pleasure to meet you.”

A voice that resonated through the entire lecture hall—measured, penetrating.
A timbre both grave and feral.

“I am Dante, Senior Professor of the Assassination Department at Hiaka. I have come today to conduct an examination for you professors.”

“Of the thirty of you present here, only three will be permitted to attend the special lecture on Transcendent Form Illusion Shaping. Please understand this is by decision of the Magic Department.”

Everyone swallowed hard.
Transcendent Form Illusion Shaping—the name alone was enough for anyone to grasp just how refined, how lofty a lecture it would be.
At that moment, greed flickered in everyone’s eyes.

“The test is straightforward. For the next thirty minutes, I want each of you to create the finest Illusion Magic you’re capable of using only a single Basic Particle. Afterward, I’ll evaluate and judge your work.”

A single Basic Particle.
No easy feat.
Someone raised a hand.

“Professor, are you saying that Dante the Chief Professor won’t be conducting this himself?”
“That’s correct.”
“Forgive me for asking, but do you possess sufficient expertise to evaluate Illusion Magic?”
“I am the direct disciple of Chief Professor Dante. Furthermore, he has granted me full authority over this matter.”
“……!”

The professors’ eyes sharpened.
A direct disciple!
That designation meant someone who stood closest to their master and inherited their greatest wisdom.
Consider Agion, for instance—the direct disciple of Abraxas, the Illusion Magic god. Though Agion fell short of Abraxas himself, he ranked twentieth in the current world standings, held the Radiant Starlight Seat, and was recognized as a premier Illusion Magic practitioner across the continent.
In other words, this Professor Dante, despite his youth, likely possessed remarkable skill.

“Are there further questions?”

At Dante’s words, everyone fell silent.

He then manifested an Hourglass through Illusion Magic and set it on the table.

‘Wait, no?’
‘That’s…!’

The professors gasped inwardly.

At first glance it appeared to be a simple hourglass. Yet from the professors’ perspective, it was remarkably intricate—a marvel of subtlety in Illusion Magic.

Ordinarily, when professors crafted an hourglass, they layered Form upon Form—both the clock’s exterior and the sand rendered as Forms.
Because sand particles were countless, vast amounts of Basic Particles were consumed. That’s why hourglasses were rarely made. The magical power expenditure was simply too great.

Why was that?

Because creating the Phenomenon of sand cascading down was extraordinarily difficult.

For falling sand to appear natural, half its motion had to obey fluid principles, while half had to follow particle dynamics. To manifest this as a Phenomenon required precise comprehension of Fluid Mechanics.

And Fluid Mechanics was among the fields that tormented virtually every Illusion Magic practitioner in the world.

Yet.
Professor Dante had rendered the entire hourglass—clock and sand alike—as a unified Phenomenon, and throughout this intricate crafting, not a single Magical Trace had scattered.

Where others would have invested one hundred units of magical power, he had achieved it with a mere fifteen.
This proved his mastery approached—if not matched—the level of a Chief Professor.

‘Chief Professor tier at such a young age……?’

Any lingering suspicion toward him melted away like snow.
This young assassin possessed every right to evaluate them.

Their pride suffered no wound.
One does not feel inferior to a bear’s size.

In that moment,

“Thirty minutes.”

Dante flipped the Hourglass over.

“Begin.”

Before the word had finished falling, every professor released a Basic Particle into the air.

Then they all began to weave the finest Illusion Magic they could manage.

‘I must perform well.’

And Assistant Professor Matte gritted his teeth, beginning to materialize Form.

* * *

Craft the most flawless Illusion Magic within thirty minutes.
Using only a single Basic Particle to do it.

No simple task.

A single Illusion Magic typically requires a minimum of thousands, sometimes hundreds of thousands of Basic Particles. And that’s by the professors’ standards.

At my level, the numbers are in a different order of magnitude entirely. For instance, the Basic Particles used to create the Chief Professor Dante cost roughly eight hundred and twenty million.

Using many Basic Particles is convenient. You simply attach differently shaped forms together. But if you must work with a single one, it becomes a headache.

You need countless applications of Expansion. A mere speck can accomplish nothing.

You need countless applications of Transformation. Bending, carving, creating texture and depth.

And through it all, you must maintain Sustenance. A Basic Particle under continuous strain shatters easily.

‘It’s like an ultra-refined form of sculpture.’

Carving a statue from tofu.

Given enough time, anyone could fashion something passable. But thirty minutes is painfully tight.

This test isn’t truly about current mastery—it’s meant to distinguish those whose Magical Power sense remains sharp and alive.

No matter how extraordinary an Illusion Magic practitioner, the moment they step away from the craft, their sense dulls.

In other words, those who neglected daily training would create nothing in this trial.

‘That is the heart of this test.’

I need to find those who prepared themselves beforehand.

The moment a person reaches a certain level, growth stops. They gaze upon what they’ve already built and become satisfied. And then, when confronted with new eras and new knowledge, they show resistance, refusing to learn.

I’ve proven myself! I’ve already mastered this much! Should I really struggle further here?—such thoughts poison the mind of a professor, and I have no reason to share my teachings with them.

Such people eventually fall behind the rest. My teachings will bear no fruit in them.

But there are others who, despite all they’ve accomplished, still strive with desperate energy. Those for whom effort has become the habit of life. Those whose will to learn remains prepared, even as time passes.

To those people, I want to reveal the Chief Professor Dante.

It must be done.

Because I approach Illusion Magic with just as much earnestness.

Around the twenty-five-minute mark, I plan to begin my evaluation rounds. Until then, they need time for design and calculation.

In the interim, I stepped outside briefly and made my way to the Waiting Room behind the Main Lecture Hall.
Lambda was sitting in the Waiting Room when he rose to greet me.

“Do you require assistance?”
“No need. I’ve come to summon Dante.”

It was so that I might observe the landscape of this examination hall together with him.
I moved to stand beside him and cast Illusion Magic.

⋮
『 World Forgery: The Fusion Forgery of Form, Phenomenon, Perception, and Memory [Chief Professor Dante] 』
⋮

After light flooded the space.
A small child wearing an Elephant Mask appeared.

“Remove the mask, Chief Professor.”
“…….”

Dante squirmed and pulled off the mask with his short arms, revealing hair matted with sweat.
Sweat that flowed in real time according to external temperature and time. Even the shifting form of the hair as it became drenched in perspiration—it was a flawless rendering, even by my assessment.
But when he removed the mask, he was facing away. Apparently he’d put the mask on backward from the start.

“……??”

He turned his head about, searching for me, muttering “Where…?” to himself.

“Here. Behind you.”

At last, Chief Professor Dante turned his body slowly around to face me.
He smiled very slowly, but brightly.

“Hello….”

A perfect model, though not entirely perfect in truth.
The way he approached me suddenly and held out his arms to be embraced was testament to that.
I blocked his face with my hand.

“Enough. Now is a time for focus. The Department of Illusion Magic professors are administering their examination just outside that door.”
“…….”

Chief Professor Dante’s eyes widened and he nodded.
I had mentioned this matter before, and he grasped that this was not the time for play.

“Now, look at that.”

In the Waiting Room stood a large Projection Device I had set up beforehand, and it was displaying the interior of the Main Lecture Hall in real time.

“Among these thirty professors here, we must select three. How many?”
“Three….”
“Exactly. From this place, you are to observe how they conduct themselves in the examination, and tell me of one person who captures your heart. I shall select two. You shall select one.”
“Yes….”

And so Dante, the Chief Professor, remained nestled in Lan’s lap—a gesture that had happened between them before—his eyes fixed on the Projection Device.
I walked back out into the Main Lecture Hall.

Now it was time to assess the process of creation and decide who would be eliminated.
I moved forward.
Toward the professors, tense and utterly focused.

“…….”

Eyes heavy with extreme tension flickered toward me.

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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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