Surviving the Assassin Academy as a Genius Professor - Chapter 131

* * *

Gulla slumped down, breathing hard. His part was finished, yet there remained more to do. But his legs had given way, and he could not rise.

“G-Gulla…”
“Medical team! Over here—!”

When his head had first struck the rock, the wound had been worse than he’d thought. He realized it only now—half his face was covered in blood.

“Ah, please sit down.”
“Me and the Demon!”

As holy power cascaded down, Gulla stood braced against the castle wall in his capacity as tactical commander. Then he surveyed the Vomittekka.

‘It’s beginning.’

Phase One had been an overwhelming victory. Exactly as Professor Dante had said. They’d held the Inner Castle Gate.

But between the Inner and Outer Castle Gates lay two kilometers of territory—an Urban District with countless buildings and humans who hadn’t managed to evacuate when the inner fortress ran out of shelter. They were still there.

Now, as the Urban District battle commenced in earnest, Gulla understood something.

Among the Assassin’s 12 Ability Classes, the most dangerous was Throwing. Though when he explained this to students, they never grasped it.
Why not? they’d ask.
Wasn’t Magic more dangerous? Wasn’t Combat? Wasn’t Concealment? Wasn’t Sniping?
But every master swordsman knew the truth: Throwing was the most lethal of all.
The reason was simple.
Unpredictability perfected—never knowing what or when something would come flying.
And,

sheer, raw firepower.

—Crack!
—Crack!
—Crack!

From the center of the Urban District, the Vomittekka wrenched its maw wide and began spewing metal scraps and stone fragments in every direction with relentless force.
With each burst, elephant-sized boulders came hurtling forth—buildings shattered, defensive spells crumbled, everything crushed indiscriminately.

Through the chaos, sniper fire, cannon fire, and mage-battalion spellcasts poured down. They hammered away at the Vomittekka’s skull steadily, methodically.
But the moment it was struck, even blind as it was, the Vomittekka oriented itself and unleashed another barrage.

—Crack!
—Crack!
—Crack!

If a cannon forged by a demon waging war against heaven looked like this, the scale was nightmarish. A single stray volley meant the entire mage battalion couldn’t even transmit a final communication before annihilation.

< Eimon : Switch to guerrilla tactics! Fire and move! Don’t hold position! >
< Eimon : And Python! Fire now!! >
< Python : Yes!! >

A charged Thunder projectile launched from directly above the Vomittekka’s head.
Lightning descended from the heavens, streaking toward the Vomittekka’s jaw with perfect accuracy.
This was the moment.
This time, certain death!
But in the next instant, Python’s blood ran cold.
The Vomittekka, its half-shattered jaw clenched tight,

snapped open with a deafening boom—

and hurled its entire head skyward!
The head itself—monstrously, impossibly huge—launched into the air!

Crackle! Boom!!

The lightning struck bare ground immediately after.

The fallen Bomiteka then began shoving whatever came within reach into its mouth—buildings, vehicles, humans, carriages—everything that touched its half-shattered jaw was swallowed whole.

“Wizard Gillion!!”
“Aaaaaaah!!”

Among the wreckage, one soul drew particularly cruel fortune. A nobleman’s mage of considerable skill was gulped down entirely.

It was a mercy that half his form spilled free, yet the soldiers recoiled in horror. What if the creature recovered again?

But the wound marked by Dante’s Holy Mark would not heal.

Bomiteka tried nonetheless. To restore its left cheek, skull, and jaw. Yet each attempt crumbled to dust and fell away.

It managed only to partially restore a fraction of its eyes. Among the materials it consumed, the Pure Mana Stone embedded in the mage’s staff had evidently played its part.

Bomiteka shifted tactics, expelling siege entities from its maw—strengthened forms wrought of stone and steel poured forth.

“Hold them back!”
“Here they come again! Keep them from reaching the Urban District!!”

After that, it bounded through the air in great arcs of tens and hundreds of meters, its half-jaw snapping with each leap. The soldiers’ strikes continued to whistle through empty space. So vast a head had no right to move with such terrible grace.

‘Damn it! At this rate, we’ll never land a blow!’

One commander fell into despair.
The barrage had missed again and again. Yet Eimon kept ordering fire without relent, and the commander chafed against the futility.

Boom!!

A direct hit.

“…What?”

How?
He bellowed without thinking. ‘Now! Fire!’
The other commanders shared his bewilderment.

‘Wait—we’re hitting it!’
‘What? The spells are landing!’

From some point onward, magic and artillery began striking Bomiteka’s face true. Its movement had grown simple, constrained.

‘Why is it moving in a straight line?’

There was reason.
Bomiteka was chasing great tents fleeing far ahead of it.

“What—what in the hells? What’s it chasing?!”

Bomiteka hurled itself madly toward the tents.
The enormous pavilions veered away or shifted course.
The spectacle was like a bullfight.

At that moment, Eimon clenched her fist once more.

– Bomiteka’s win condition takes two forms. First, to breach the Inner Castle Gate, where food is particularly abundant and of superior quality.

The second element that Dante described.

– The second is consuming “Sky.”

The core element of Phase 2.

Sky.

The moment Bomiteka consumes and absorbs Sky, processing it, the Phase advances to 3.
Because,

– The instant it consumes and processes Sky, it gains the ability to sprout “wings.”

From this point on, Dante explained only to the senior commanders.

Bomiteka is a lower-ranked individual among the One-Horned Demons. But there are rare exceptions where it becomes the strongest among all of them.

That is the “Winged Bomiteka.”

To bounce that enormous head, the jaw bears tremendous strain. With each bounce, it loses dozens of kilograms.

Since it rolls like a rugby ball with no fixed direction, Bomiteka itself cannot plot its path with precision.

But the moment the “wings” are completed, Bomiteka gains freedom in spatial movement—transforming into a mad bombardier that soars through the sky hurling boulders weighing dozens or hundreds of kilograms.

To achieve that, Bomiteka moves to consume “tough Sky.” It becomes obsessed with things like the troops’ tents.

That is Phase 3.
It signals the birth of a calamity that these troops can never contain.
Knowing this truth, Professor Dante spoke thus.

– I have prepared a certain mechanism.

That “mechanism” was now making Bomiteka’s movement linear.
The Dante Assassination Squad.
Its cadets—fast to a degree unbelievable for those in their twenties, individually formidable—
were now moving the finest bait against Bomiteka, the enormous mana-imbued Sky, leading the creature forward!

Eimon shouted, praying beneath her breath.

Now Bomiteka moves, ensnared by the bait.
Judging only by this, we seem to have the advantage.
Yet bait always finds its way into the fish’s mouth.
So there is nothing to do but pray.

‘Don’t die!!’

That the four cadets carrying the Sky might come through unharmed.

* * *

A commander blocks my path.

“Professor, please go to the medical unit!”

Who is this.
I can only see half the face—I cannot tell who it is. Likely one eye is covered in blood.

“Stand aside, Commander.”
“Professor! Your condition is far too dangerous! Please, stop this and let the medics— Don’t go! Please!!”

The Commander moved to block me with his own body. I remembered him now—the man whose comrades had died around him, whom I’d brought back to life with the Colossus-class Sword.

“Your state is too critical, sir!!”

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps it was. I’d managed to shatter roughly half of Bomiteka’s Life Force, but dealing such a blow was more than a human body could bear.

The status window scrolled on without end.
I was in decidedly poor condition.

Yet I could still move.
I seized the plume of his helmet and spoke.

“Move.”
“…….”

Half his face twisted in confusion—as though asking why I would do this. But I knew what had to be done. I also knew that only I could do it.

This wasn’t born of virtue. If anyone else could do what I could, I would have gladly surrendered to a bed in the medical corps. But no such person existed.

From a combat efficiency standpoint, there was no choice.
I had to move.

The Clock Tower stood at the Outer Castle Gate. Once I climbed to its height, Valmond’s signal reached me clearly.
I surveyed the unit’s position and the terrain, then issued a command.

Far below, Valmond ran through empty air, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Behind him came something impossibly vast—a head the size of a building, smashing through structures as it flew.

The monsters barring Valmond’s way shattered beneath Kendrick’s Battle Axe.
In our weeks of synchronized drills, he and I had learned to breathe as one. This was the fruit of that bond.
Yet nothing could remain smooth.

Crash—!

A metal column launched from Bomiteka’s jaws whipped across Valmond. My heart lurched.

Valmond tumbled through the air, stumbled for a moment, then caught himself and vaulted skyward. At that instant, Elise arrived and seized the cloth like a baton, lightning-fast, and burst away in a new direction.

By then Grey’s arm was already broken from the relentless barrage, and one of her legs was injured as well.
Kendrick Drake too was drenched in blood, moving with a dozen kunai embedded in his back.
Yet even amid these losses, victory was drawing steadily closer.
We were well into the late stages of combat. I could sense it. The Vomittekka’s life force, fragmented in places, lay below ten percent. And still, it had not managed to form wings.
If things continued as they were……

But the Hell-difficulty Vomittekka was more cunning than I’d anticipated. Realizing its own death creeping closer, it had abandoned the bait.

I leapt urgently from the Clock Tower and deployed Floating.
The Vomittekka began moving in an erratic pattern.
What was it doing?

‘Where is it heading?’

I traced the direction.
Following the line straight ahead.

‘Toward Saint Mother Cathedral.’

I considered it.
Why?
The cathedral in the Outer Castle’s Urban District was a shelter. A place where citizens had gathered in numbers.
In our war preparations beforehand, I’d had all the ‘Pure Mana Stones’ inside the cathedral buried beneath the ground—we couldn’t let them become food for the Vomittekka. So there would be nothing for it to consume there but humans…….

‘Is the Demon Race’s purpose simply to kill humans?’

Was this a final act of desperation?
To slaughter as many humans as possible before its death?
I couldn’t say for certain.
This was the Hell-difficulty algorithm. A scenario I’d never encountered before.

‘Damn it all.’

It was then that I felt a sharp irritation at the Script not displaying due to a bug. Not merely because I couldn’t read people’s thoughts. Skills, Holy Marks, and the like were expected to show, and when the Vomittekka moved as an enemy, everything occurring within it should normally appear in the Script—yet it wasn’t displaying.

Regardless of what might be there, I would block it.
Whatever it desired, I would deny it.
I would see that no one died.

But seconds later, watching what blossomed behind the Vomittekka’s skull as it rocketed toward the cathedral—I felt that something had gone terribly wrong.

Wings. They had formed.

How was that possible?
I observed the shape of the wing membrane, the apricot hue blooming forth, and after a moment of deliberation―

‘Oh, no.’

―at last, I understood its plan.
Human skin!

Eimon’s panicked voice crackled through the Communication.

The mad beast had begun processing the skins of its victims into wings.
And over four hundred humans sheltered in that cathedral.

I thrust my wings forward with every ounce of strength, launching myself skyward—and across the Urban District, racing toward the cathedral like lightning, came a single figure.

The Hero.

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