Ezekiel Hiakium von Hiaka, Dean of the School of Magic, sipped from his teacup in an elegant, old-fashioned manner. It was noon. In the chill of the day, he quietly savored the subtle fragrance rising from the cup. He wished this peaceful teatime could last forever...
...That was exactly the kind of thought he shouldn’t have indulged.
— “The Empire is targeting Head Professor Cain.”
At the voice beyond the Crystal Orb, he scowled.
The source of the intel: a top-tier Hiaka assassin embedded close to the imperial court.
So it’s true. These damn Empire bastards...
“...You mean they’re trying to abduct Head Professor Cain?”
— “Not abduct. According to snippets heard during imperial council sessions, they’re considering... persuasion.”
“Persuasion? What are they offering?”
— “Uh...”
A hesitant voice trickled through the Crystal Orb.
— “...Candy, apparently?”
Ezekiel went deadly serious.
Of course. Typical Empire.
They knew exactly what worked. Where to press, what to offer.
Cain was, after all, nothing more than an illusion created by Dante.
But... anyone who looked at that face...
Wouldn’t they assume candy would absolutely work?
“...Got it,” he said and cut the communication.
Alone again, Ezekiel reflected:
For now, it would be best to limit Head Professor Cain’s public appearances and exposure.
Not because of the threat of kidnapping or persuasion—after all, one cannot kidnap an illusion.
But the more someone studies a subject, the more they lose respect for it. The more they believe they can handle it.
The Empire would keep probing. The more they learned about Cain, the more they would covet him.
And Ezekiel knew exactly how to counter that kind of social dynamic.
“I’ll have to reduce exposure.”
Eliminating it entirely would be ideal—but not feasible. Still, even a reduction would instill caution.
What is the animal that humans fear most?
A tiger? A bear?
Neither.
It’s “an unknown animal.”
“I need to minimize how many people get to see Cain. Only the most desperate, most invested professors should learn from him. The important part is content delivery. Those professors can then pass it on to others.”
Having reached this conclusion, he made a call.
“Yes, it’s Ezekiel. I’ll be adjusting the format of the Cain lecture.”
— “How would you like to change it?”
“There will be a test.”
⋮
And so, the professors of Illusion Magic lost their minds.
“A test?!”
It struck at their pride.
No one hates being evaluated more than a mage.
“What kind of nonsense is this? You said before that any Illusion Magic professor could attend!”
“Did you hear that correctly, fool?”
“Y-Yes, sir...”
The administrative TA of the Magic Department was sweating bullets.
Head Professor Cain’s special lecture!
The Illusion Magic faculty had been looking forward to learning from that transcendent level of illusion. Being told everyone could attend had felt like being handed a divine gift.
And now they were taking that chance away?
“Who made that decision?!”
“...Dean Ezekiel...”
“......”
Silence fell.
No one dared object further.
If Ezekiel gave an order, pride be damned—they’d comply.
But since the attendees would be chosen based on exam results...
From that moment, the professors began glancing sideways at one another.
“......”
“......”
Assassins live by money. Warriors live by conviction. Mages live by pride.
And pride, to define it precisely, is the desire to preserve the feeling of superiority.
That superiority can stem from wealth, status, belief, magical achievement, or academic work.
I am better than others.
I’m not like these low-tier professors sitting around me.
Those pigs and nobodies may have landed their seats by luck or talent, but my life has been built on relentless effort and achievement.
Everyone thought the same.
“......”
“......”
Up until now, they’d kept a civil distance—pretending to be friendly.
But with things like this, there was no avoiding the competition.
“I have to be the one who attends Cain’s lecture. Not that it’ll be hard—these clowns are nothing. I’m ranked highest anyway.”
“Pathetic worms. You don’t even have 2,000 citations to your name. You don’t deserve to even glimpse the great Head Professor Cain’s illusions.”
“You all just go through life on inertia, getting by with the same routines. But not me. I’m this year’s Hiaka Academic Research & Education Award winner. None of you can match me in real competition.”
And then, someone let out a hearty laugh.
“Well, this won’t be easy. Competing with fellow professors and all. Haha.”
“Right? Still, gotta do my best. Haha.”
“Go easy on us, won’t # Nоvеlight # you? Hahaha.”
***
I returned to the professors' housing around 11 p.m. Adele had no transportation either, so we’d walked almost 40 minutes.
After getting home, I headed to Ran’s room.
When I’d gone to the Empire, I left her with Ezekiel just in case. Since then, I’d been monitoring her constantly.
She was fast asleep in her bed.
That was unusual. Ran was like Cinderella—she always fell asleep precisely at midnight.
“....”
I started to turn away—but stopped.
Thinking it over, this was very strange. From what I’ve observed, Ran’s routine was practically mechanical.
So why was she asleep at 11?
My concern deepened when I saw what was on her head: the Cross-Band Model.
One of the bands was missing.
Which meant... it was no longer a cross (+) but a dash (–).
“....”
Adele was currently in the Empire capital preparing for her research. She’d gone with a team of six other assistants to collect curse research materials.
They’d be gone for about a week.
Ran’s missing band might mean something—or it might not.
I decided to wait until she woke up and talk.
⋮
“I think I almost died.”
The next morning, Ran said.
I didn’t understand at first.
“‘Think you almost died’? Not ‘you almost died’?”
“Yes.”
“...Explain.”
Ran showed me the band model on her head.
“This Cross-Band Model is a supplementary device that fully heals me from any injury—twice.”
“‘Any injury’ is a bit vague...”
“It means, even if I die, I’m restored.”
...It’s that powerful?
I thought it just healed wounds.
“My hypothesis is this,” she continued, pressing a V-shape to her chin.
“Of the two bands, one is gone. And I have no memory of how. That implies the storage device was destroyed. In other words, my head was crushed.”
“...Hold on.”
“Yes.”
There was a lot I needed to unpack.
I gathered my thoughts and spoke.
“You’re not afraid of death?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because the end is a new beginning.”
“...Fine. Does the band regenerate?”
“It’s a consumable.”
“How does it restore you after you die?”
“It rewinds reality to a state where I was never injured.”
“...Noted. Next.”
“At the time of the incident, I was in the Error Zone of Star-Gazing Mountain. There’s no way my head broke on its own. Someone attacked me.”
“Do you know who?”
“No. Based on the circumstances, it could’ve been the Witch of Star-Gazing Mountain... or, as you said, Assistant Adele.”
I had told Ran everything about Adele.
Since she was sent by the System⧉, she was trustworthy.
But how could Adele, who’s all the way in the Empire, have attacked Ran?
“There are a few other things I should mention,” Ran continued.
She then described something she saw on the mountain.
“A presumptuous turkey?”
“Yes.”
“Did you win?”
“Yes. I won.”
“Well done.”
“Also, either Bomitecana or Trapiche is landing in various nations.”
“...What?”
“Pardon?”
“No, wait.”
What kind of follow-up is that to a presumptuous turkey?!
“Details.”
As Ran explained, I narrowed my eyes.
A system message appeared:
<⧉ A global [Corruption] has begun.>
It had arrived.
『Corruption』
The demon army’s offensive.
Separate from the main storyline, it’s the Demon King’s preemptive strike on humanity.
On [Hard] difficulty, the final boss—the professor—terrorizes the academy indiscriminately.
But on [Hell] difficulty, the scale is different.
“So this time, it’s indiscriminate terror on a global scale.”
The professor from Hero-Genre Professor is part of a DLC covering humanity vs. the Demon King.
According to Ran, there were criteria.
One per nation.
She said the Symbol⧉ revealed the concept of the attack—not the timing.
They’d occur simultaneously across the world.
The Demon King has two main strategies:
One: Kill me.
Two: Reduce the human population.
He’ll deploy both to secure victory in the final battle.
Trapiche and Bomitecana are among the largest entities.
They’re less dangerous than Jinksythe, sure.
But that’s only because Jinksythe—with all seven arms—is a literal warzone-level catastrophe.
That doesn’t mean these two are weak.
“Should we warn others in advance?”
“Yes. I’ll alert our department.”
Then, Ran asked a very difficult question.
“What about the other nations?”
“......”
I fell silent.
What about the other nations?
Of course, warning them would help.
Knowing where and when the demons will strike—their weaknesses, their strategies—would reduce casualties.
But... no. It’s not that simple.
Because of the Empire.
The current Empire of Hattengraj has a habit: Any time they find someone outstanding, they’ll do anything to take them.
Even being just [Challenger]-rank gets you bombarded with offers.
Now imagine someone who can predict unknown monsters. Who warns of escalating threats that become global crises.
The Emperor would dispatch [Constellation]-level warriors to kidnap me.
The moment I’m taken to Hattengraj, all that knowledge becomes imperial property.
And the Emperor will use it to maintain dominance over the continent.
There’s even a main storyline about this—it’s certain.
Unless there’s a way to transmit the info with perfect anonymity...
But no such method exists.
In the material world, all places are touched by star power.
Take, for example, Royal National Treasure No. 4: Namebook⧉.
With it, the Hiaka royal family can find even a [Constellation] trying to hide.
If we have that—imagine what the Empire has.
“...Still, we can’t sit idle. Before the final war, all humans are allies. Even Kreutz.”
“We’ll need to figure something out, bit by bit.”
“Exactly.”
For now, all we could do was observe.
“From now on, stick close to me. I don’t want you dying somewhere pointless. And keep that band stuck to your... skull at all times.”
“Skull?”
“Skull is slang for head.”
“Understood.”
That would do for now.
Adele, the unicorn demon, all important.
But today—there was something even more urgent.
Ezekiel had requested something of me.
— Ezekiel: “I’ve put the Illusion Magic professors to the test. You evaluate them and pick three.”
Three out of thirty.
A 10:1 competition.
— Me: “Will those prideful professors even accept taking a test?”
I was worried. If they got emotional, it’d be a headache.
I don’t avoid fights because I like them. It’s just exhausting when people come at me.
Ezekiel’s answer was hilariously simple.
— Ezekiel: “If they complain, cut them.”
Oh. That works.
Life as a person in power was surprisingly straightforward.
***
But an hour later, when I entered the large lecture hall of Magician Building 2...
I realized I wouldn’t need to do anything.
If I’d invited a grad student here, the sheer aura pressure alone would’ve suffocated them.
“......”
“......”
About thirty professors of Illusion Magic sat in silence—every one of them scowling, radiating murderous intent.
【 Choose me. Not these insects. 】
【 Surely the Head Professor can see through to the truth. Who among us is truly superior. 】
【 It must be me. It must be me. It must be me. It must be me. It must be me... 】
【 To be forced to compete with such lowlifes... This department is disgraceful. Head Professor Cain deserves better. 】
The School of Magic wanted Cain far more desperately than I had imagined.