Surviving the Assassin Academy as a Genius Professor
Chapter 102: Professors of Illusion Magic (2)

Someone swallowed dryly. Gulp.

The sound echoed in everyone’s ears.

Before entering the lecture hall, the professors had been chatting and laughing. But the moment they stepped inside, their expressions stiffened, and their words grew sparse.

Inherent superiority is preserved only when it remains unspoken. The moment it’s thrown into clear competition, the illusion shatters. Because there’s always someone better.

At the age most professors reach, everyone knows that truth. And so, some closed their eyes and meditated, others distracted themselves with their Crystal Orbs, trying to suppress their nerves.

Then, the door opened.

“...Huh? That guy is...”

All eyes turned toward the newcomer. A disheveled professor walked in—round, thick glasses, messy hair, slightly hunched over and short.

His name was Mate, an assistant professor who had once worked under the traitor, Head Professor Gloomy.

The officially ostracized professor of the Magic Department.

“Oh, damn. Thought it was Head Professor Cain.”

“Ugh, even he came to attend?”

“Still can’t tell where he belongs, huh...”

Snide voices followed one after another.

And they had their reasons.

Assistant Professor Mate had helped Gloomy transfer research to Kreutz during the rebellion. After the incident, he’d been put on trial, but it was proven he hadn’t even known he was aiding in treason. He was acquitted.

But an acquittal didn’t mean forgiveness.

In the end, he was a collaborator. And during the escape, Gloomy had taken other assistants with her—yet left Mate behind.

The whole thing was laughably pathetic.

“Tch, gotta admit he’s stubborn at least.”

“What’s there to admit?”

“Sorry?”

At that moment, one of the most influential Illusion Magic professors, Professor Lambda, clicked his tongue and spoke.

“If you’re that oblivious, it’s no wonder your master dumped you.”

“Is that so?”

“Knowing your place matters. If you don’t, you’re not even human.”

The others chuckled in agreement. Mate didn’t even flinch.

But with ten people, there are ten different colors. Not everyone enjoyed mocking him.

An elderly professor walked over and asked gently,

“Hey, Assistant Professor Mate.”

“...Yes?”

His hollow eyes turned toward the old man.

“Ignore what they say. They don’t know anything but love to point fingers.”

“...Yes.”

“But still, I hope you don’t just sit there silently all the time.”

“...Sorry?”

“You’ve got to hold your head high. If they talk shit, push back a little. They only mock you because you take it lying down.”

Mate shook his head.

“...What pride is there before scholarship? I’m just here to learn.”

“Well, I suppose, but it’s still frustrating to see.”

“...Thank you, Professor.”

He bowed his head.

......

Mate, too, was a mage. He too had once harbored intense pride and a sense of superiority.

Had «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» he not hit the wall of reality, he might have become just like the professors mocking him now.

But now, what he had left was desperation.

“I have nothing left.”

Gloomy, the only golden rope in his life, had betrayed Hiaka.

Now, not just the professors—even the department was pressuring him to resign.

And if he gave up and returned to the countryside?

His aging parents were tilling a tiny plot of land, raising a sickly goat.

Most of his salary had gone to research materials. He couldn’t even celebrate his parents’ birthdays.

That was his life.

He had no future, no hope.

Then came a single opportunity: Head Professor Cain’s lecture, offered to all Illusion Magic professors.

But only if he passed this test.

“Maybe... this is my last chance...”

He turned his head.

Even now, if he looked out the window, he could see the massive tree that adorned the sky’s edge. That towering tree he tried not to look at—because it hurt to see.

To be taught by the one who created that...

It was the greatest opportunity of his life. Perhaps the first—and the last.

......

So, Assistant Professor Mate waited, with that resolve in his heart, for the proctor to arrive.

And as Mate and the other professors waited anxiously...

Bang—

The door opened, and a professor stepped inside.

Wavy black hair. Three-whites eyes with pink irises. A silent, smooth gait like a prowling predator.

An assassin had entered the lecture hall.

Normally, a mage’s instincts would revolt. Assassins and mages are fundamentally incompatible.

The idea of being evaluated by one? Unthinkable.

But today was different.

“Nice to meet you.”

The low voice echoed across the hall. Heavy. Feral. Resounding.

“I am Senior Professor Dante Hiakapo of the Department of Assassination. I’m here today to conduct your evaluation.”

“Out of the thirty professors here, only three will be chosen to attend the special lecture on [Transcendent Form Illusion Structuring]. This decision was made by the School of Magic. I ask for your understanding.”

Dry gulps rang out again.

[Transcendent Form Illusion Structuring]. Just the name made it obvious how refined and profound the lecture would be.

And in that moment—every pair of eyes flared with ambition.

“The test is simple. You have thirty minutes. Using only a single Basic Particle, create the best illusion you are capable of. I will evaluate and decide.”

Only one Basic Particle?

This wouldn’t be easy.

Someone raised a hand.

“Excuse me, Professor? Not to sound ignorant, but... shouldn’t Head Professor Cain be conducting this himself?”

“No. I am administering the test.”

“I only ask because I’m unaware—are you sufficiently qualified to evaluate illusion magic?”

“I am Head Professor Cain’s direct disciple. And this responsibility was fully delegated to me by him.”

“......!”

Sharp focus filled the professors’ eyes.

Direct disciple.

It meant someone who received the deepest revelations directly from the master.

For example, Agion—disciple of the legendary illusion god Abraxas—was ranked No. 20 worldwide, [Stellar Throne⁺₊⋆], and widely considered the continent’s top illusionist.

So this assassin professor, Dante, was likely incredibly skilled for his age.

“Any other questions?”

Silence.

Then Dante summoned an illusion—a sand timer—and placed it on the table.

Huh?

Wait a second...!

The professors quietly gasped.

At a glance, it looked like a simple hourglass. But from their perspective, it was exquisitely crafted.

Typically, when making an hourglass, a mage combines multiple forms: the frame, the sand—each a separate [Form].

But that consumes a ton of Basic Particles—especially the tiny sand grains. So most illusionists don’t even attempt it due to the mana cost.

Why?

Because replicating flowing sand as a [Phenomenon] is extremely difficult.

To make the sand pour naturally, you need to understand both fluid dynamics and particle motion. To pull it off, you must master [Fluid Dynamics]—one of the most brutal subjects for illusionists.

And yet...

Professor Dante had created both the timer and the sand as a single seamless [Phenomenon]—with no detectable mana fluctuations.

Where others would spend 100 mana, he used 15.

It was proof that he was, at minimum, on par with a head professor.

“A head professor-level illusionist... at his age?”

All suspicion vanished like melting snow.

This young assassin was more than qualified to evaluate them.

And their pride remained untouched.

Just like no one feels inferior standing next to a bear because of its size.

In that atmosphere,

“Time limit is 30 minutes.”

Dante flipped the sand timer.

“Begin.”

The moment the words fell, all the professors summoned their single [Basic Particle].

Then they began crafting their best illusions.

“I have to give it my all.”

And Assistant Professor Mate clenched his jaw and began shaping his illusion too.

***

Create the most complete illusion possible in 30 minutes—using only one Basic Particle.

Not an easy task.

Even the simplest illusion takes thousands—sometimes hundreds of thousands—of particles.

That’s by normal standards.

At my level, the scale changes.

To create Head Professor Cain, for example, I used approximately 820 million Basic Particles.

Using many is easier—you just combine forms. But manipulating one? That’s hellish.

You need extensive [Expansion]. A tiny dot can’t do anything alone.

You need countless [Transformations]. Bending, shaving, building texture.

And you have to consider [Durability]. Stressed particles break easily.

It’s like carving a sculpture out of soft tofu.

Given enough time, anyone could make something decent. But 30 minutes? That’s pressure.

This test wasn’t meant to measure current mastery. It was designed to identify those with intact magical sensitivity.

Even top-tier illusionists lose that edge when they stop practicing.

So those who’ve grown complacent will create nothing of value.

That’s the heart of this exam.

I need to find the ones who are still prepared.

When someone hits a certain level, they stop growing. They become satisfied with what they’ve already built. They resist new ideas, new systems. They refuse to learn.

“I’m already accomplished! I know enough! Do I really need to try harder?”

—Such people don’t deserve my teachings.

They’ll be weeded out in time. And my knowledge won’t bear fruit with them.

But there are those who keep striving, despite already achieving much. Those for whom effort is a way of life.

They’re the ones I want to show Head Professor Cain to.

They’re the ones I must show him to.

Because that’s how desperately I love illusion.

< Time Remaining: 28 minutes 33 seconds >

I plan to begin evaluations around the 25-minute mark. Until then, they’ll need time for design and calculations.

In the meantime, I stepped outside and walked to the waiting room behind the lecture hall.

Ran, who’d been waiting inside, stood as I entered.

“Do you require assistance?”

“No. I came to fetch Cain.”

I wanted him to witness this test with me.

I took a seat beside her and conjured an illusion.

⋮

『World Forgery: Fusion Forgery of Form, Phenomenon, Perception, and Memory – [Head Professor Cain]』

⋮

Light filled the space.

And a child in an elephant mascot costume appeared.

“Take off the head, Cain.”

“......”

Cain flailed, then reached up with stubby arms and pulled off the head—revealing his sweat-drenched hair.

Sweat streamed in real time, altering the strands’ shape and texture with precision.

Even I had to admit—it was flawless modeling.

Except...he had the head on backward. So the reveal showed his back.

“...??”

He tilted his head, murmuring, “Where...?” Searching for me.

“Behind you.”

Cain slowly turned around and saw me.

He smiled brightly, albeit sluggishly.

“Hi...”

A perfect model—yet not entirely perfect.

He held out his arms asking for a hug.

I blocked him with my hand.

“Stop. This is a serious moment. Out there, the professors of Illusion Magic are taking a test.”

“......”

Cain blinked, then nodded solemnly.

I’d mentioned this before. He knew it wasn’t playtime.

“Look over there.”

In the room, I’d set up a large Projector Orb, showing the lecture hall in real time.

“There are thirty professors. We’ll choose three. How many?”

“Three...”

“Correct. Watch them carefully and tell me which one speaks to you. I’ll pick two. You pick one.”

“Okay...”

And so, Cain curled up on Ran’s lap (they’d met before), and stared at the projection.

I returned to the hall.

< Time Remaining: 25 minutes 10 seconds >

Time to begin evaluating the works in progress and decide who to eliminate.

I moved forward.

Toward the professors, each immersed in tense concentration.

“......”

Their eyes flicked toward me—brimming with extreme tension.

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