One step. Another step.
As Professor Dante Hiakapo approached, the professors couldn’t help but feel their hearts thumping.
It felt strange. To feel like this again, at their age, as professors.
Dante examined each professor’s [base particles] attentively before moving on to the next. Those few seconds felt unbearably long.
‘Why does he keep hovering around here? It’s making me nervous...’
The professor in the seat where Dante lingered more than usual grumbled inwardly.
< Time remaining: 20 minutes 58 seconds >
After a long stretch of simply walking.
At one point, Professor Dante came to a stop.
In front of a senior professor.
Senior Professor Haydin.
He was the most experienced among those gathered—115 years old. At that age, no matter how powerful a martial artist, one inevitably appeared like an old man.
Dante spoke to him.
“You’re making a cat.”
“Eh? Ah, yes. It’s the one I keep at home. Her name is Hiaka.”
“Hiaka, huh.”
Dante carefully reached out a hand.
At that moment, the old man flicked his fingers, and the cat raised a paw.
Meow!
The cat waved cheerfully.
“Oh.”
“Hoho. When I come home, she greets me like this.”
“You even detailed the fur one by one.”
“Ah, I used the formula [Scratch] in reverse.”
“[Scratch], in reverse?”
“Yes, yes. Originally, that formula creates texture by sanding particles, like sandpaper—but back in the day, we also used it in reverse, scratching space itself to expand particles and simulate fur texture. ...It’s a rather old formula.”
As he spoke, he realized just how outdated that formula was—used roughly eighty years ago. Senior Professor Haydin felt a bit nervous.
The man standing before him was a young professor.
Old men always feel a sting of bitterness when the youth find their era’s methods outdated and unnecessary. After all, they themselves are remnants of that era.
“......It’s splendid. Truly impressive.”
But then came an unexpected compliment.
“Oh, truly?”
“Yes. It’s admirable. The formula [Scratch] is highly active, so reversing it must’ve taken a lot of time.”
“.......”
A strange light flickered in Haydin’s eyes.
He was surprised. He knows that? [Scratch] hasn’t been used since before this man was even born!
“You reversed the flow and rendered the fur in just ten minutes. Even simulated motion. You must still practice regularly.”
“...Ah, yes. Of course. [Illusion Art] is my life.”
“Personally, I believe even obsolete formulas have their own value. Frankly, modern formulas like [Sequence] or [Extend] can’t produce fur this natural.”
“Ah, yes. Quite right. Thank you... Hohoho...”
Dante turned and walked away.
At that moment, Senior Professor Haydin let out a breath—‘Phew.’ Dante’s compliment had made him feel genuinely good.
The best compliment he’d received in a long while.
‘Mm. That was nice.’
It felt strange.
The praise was oddly pleasing.
‘Why? I get complimented often... so why this?’
He thought about it.
Even if Dante was a young professor, there was nothing immature in the atmosphere he exuded.
Quite the opposite. He had a presence more befitting an elder.
‘Ah. I see.’
And with that, realization dawned.
It had been a long time—
‘Since I felt like a student in front of a professor...’
His thoughts drifted back to the distant past.
About ninety years ago, when he was young and delicate-looking. When he came to the capital in tears, supported by his family (who sold their ox for him).
At that time, Hiaka hadn’t even established a foundation for [Applied Illusion Art], and only a few professors taught it. He’d been lucky to be mentored by a professor he greatly admired.
But admiration alone doesn’t guarantee growth.
He tried his best, but his early results were poor. He was scolded harshly and cried alone behind the Academy’s stables.
But then he hardened his resolve, pressed on with his studies, and—after several sleepless nights—produced an illusion.
......And that was when he received his first compliment.
‘That’s right. Damn, those were good days.’
He never expected to feel that same emotion again. The old professor chuckled to himself, gazing at Dante’s back.
For someone so young to bring that feeling back?
‘He’s no ordinary man... that young professor.’
He was probably the only one among them who had no interest in the senior professor’s lecture. He was just enjoying the test itself.
< Time remaining: 19 minutes 36 seconds >
Perhaps because that first interaction went so well, the other professors began to feel more at ease.
Even if he was the disciple of a genius, no professor would appreciate being criticized by someone younger. But Dante seemed to be a respectful sort.
......That expectation shattered with the next exchange.
“What is this?”
The target was a forty-year-old professor, Ulberg.
“Excuse me?”
“This. What is it.”
Ulberg was making a 3×3 cube—a rotating cube puzzle.
“Ah, it’s a cube. You know, the cube? Perhaps you’re unfamiliar?”
“Why are you making a cube.”
“Ah, well, it’s not just a simple cube—it’s got added mechanisms. I’m most confident in structural illusion like this.”
“And the cube with those mechanisms—can it rotate?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. It’s a cube...”
“Then the edges and corners are disconnected from the axis, are they ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) not?”
“Uh... yes? For rotation, the parts have to be separate...”
Why don’t natural organisms have wheels?
Partly because there are no roads—
But primarily, for a wheel to function, it must rotate independently of its axis while enduring friction. That would make material metabolism impossible.
“That’s your [base particle]?”
“.......”
Ulberg shut his mouth.
This illusion used a [base particle] formula with [Divide].
Because a cube needs 26 extra blocks—excluding the axis.
Now Ulberg started to panic.
Is an illusion with [Divide] still a single [base particle] or not?
This was a question of definition.
‘Crap...’
‘He made a mistake...’
The professors from the [Illusion Theory] field sighed inwardly.
Because according to the textbook:
“The moment of division negates the definition of a single base particle.”
In other words—
From the moment Ulberg called it a cube, he had made a mistake.
If it doesn’t rotate, it’s not a cube.
If it rotates, the parts aren’t one.
“...I think it’s still one.”
He insisted anyway.
“Is that so.”
With that, Dante turned away. A grim expression crossed Ulberg’s face. He knew he’d failed.
And in this moment, everyone’s thinking shifted a little.
People assumed that “Assassination Illusion” was all about field use and lacked theory. So much so that the nickname “Peasant Illusion” had even stuck.
But Dante was different.
For instance—
Half the professors here didn’t even know the old [Scratch] formula. Meanwhile, the definition of base particles had been updated only earlier this year in the Empire.
Dante knew both.
< Time remaining: 15 minutes 17 seconds >
From this point on, it was as if wings had grown—Dante’s evaluations grew sharper.
“Your advanced [Expand] usage makes it look like [Space]. However, the assignment was to sculpt a [Form], not create space. Why did you make that choice?”
“You tried to fit the entire scripture onto one page. Well—not the whole scripture, just the Confession segment... It’s delicate and lovely, but by my estimate, around 100 characters are slightly broken. Could you correct them?”
“The peacock is beautiful—but as you know, if the Remiges (wing feathers) are thinner than 0.022mm, it lacks the lift to fly. Peacocks can fly. If yours cannot, I can’t give it a high score.”
The professors felt like they couldn’t breathe.
Dante’s evaluations were shockingly precise.
This wasn’t someone who just “knew how to observe.”
He was, to put it bluntly, evaluating like a madman.
He demanded feather thickness of 0.022mm?
He spotted broken letters thinner than one-fiftieth of a hair?
He said all of that with the calm assumption that such detail was possible with magic?
‘......Is this the level of a [Grandmaster]?’
They were stunned. In the Illusion Magic division of Hiaka Academy, the only [Grandmaster]-level professor was Chief Professor Gloomy.
‘Impossible.’
But one professor, proud and stubborn, was irritated.
‘You little punk, what a joke.’
He simply couldn’t accept it. No matter how gifted, how could a thirty-year-old evaluate the illusions of all these professors—each in different specialties?
Someone who studies bee wings doesn’t know everything about bird wings.
That’s how specialized modern illusion magic had become.
But Dante was acting like he understood not only bees and birds—but dragons, airships, and satellites too.
“Do you truly know what you’re saying?”
Unable to hold back, one professor finally spoke.
Dante turned to him.
“What is your question?”
“I don’t mean to cast doubt, but you may be speaking recklessly. If you wouldn’t mind, would you offer feedback on the ‘Model Garden’ I created?”
“I have nothing to say about it.”
“What?”
“It’s perfect.”
“.......”
Blush——
And just like that, the middle-aged professor blushed without realizing it.
‘.......’
Perfect...?
Ahem...
Well... that is only natural...
He was, after all, a man who had spent over thirty years crafting nothing but model illusions...
Internally, his index fingers awkwardly pressed together... ☞☜
‘...I was wrong. He truly can evaluate properly...’
Then it happened.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Dante’s voice suddenly turned aggressive.
Directed at a hooded female professor.
“...Excuse me?”
“I said—what are you doing. Here.”
“...Why are you asking me that?”
Just moments ago, he’d been polite. His sudden shift made the other professors tense up and observe.
“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“...What did I do?”
“Enough games. You know exactly what this event is. I don’t understand why someone of your stature is acting this way.”
“.......”
The professors turned to look at her creation.
It was... a normal yet beautiful statue.
So why?
Then the female professor laughed.
And said—
“...This is why I hate sharp little punks.”
—In a man’s voice.
‘What!?’
‘Wait, what?!’
Her face began to melt and transform.
From the young, hooded woman’s face—
To that of a mischievous old man.
‘Whaaa! Ch-Chief Galois?!’
‘Since when was he there...?’
Professors don’t use [Search] during a test. Without checking, they wouldn’t know. That old man had been hiding among them all along.
Chief Professor Galois cackled.
“Sharp eyes, kid!”
“Get out, Chief. This exam is under strict supervision. Unauthorized guests are not allowed.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re so cold. I’ve written twelve papers on [Illusion], and this is how you treat me?”
“Did you write them yourself?”
“You little...?!”
Even the professors who’d disliked Dante were now shocked. Chief Galois always kept his distance from others.
And yet here he was—acting like an old friend with Dante.
Turns out Dante was more of a big shot than anyone thought...
“I’m leaving, damn it! You heartless bastard.”
“Shut the door behind you.”
“Ugh!!”
And just like that, Chief Galois was kicked out.
< Time remaining: 10 minutes 25 seconds >
< Time remaining: 5 minutes 45 seconds >
< Time remaining: 3 minutes 25 seconds >
Time passed. One by one, participants began completing their projects.
The tension remained—but the atmosphere wasn’t bad. Some had assumed that “evaluation test” meant Dante would be excessively critical.
Some were even prepared to fight back.
But Dante had shown respect. And there hadn’t been a single mistake in his feedback.
Dante only laid out the facts. He didn’t pass judgment.
It didn’t mean their pride was unscathed.
But what could they even refute?
He only stated what was.
< Time remaining: 0 minutes 00 seconds >
At last, all the sand ran out.
⋮
“Thank you for your efforts. I’ll now announce the results.”
Professor Dante spoke calmly.
“Everyone has failed.”