A lot happened after that.
“Professor Batalion was a traitor?”
“That crazy bastard... And the professors let him go?”
Once the truth came out, the cadets were furious.
They set fire to the Batalion Hall—named after the now-revealed traitor. No one was punished for it.
Even though Hiaka Academy had technically won the Assassin War, it was overcome by a crushing sense of defeat. The Disciplinary Bureau and the faculty joined forces to track down the seeds of the rebellion, uncovering multiple collaborators linked to the neutral senior professors.
Half of them were beaten to death.
“To think those Kreutz bastards stabbed us in the gut—does that even make sense?”
“We should’ve been the ones ambushing them. I can't see this in any positive light.”
The citizens of the kingdom denounced Hiaka Academy.
Even though the cadet casualties had been almost nonexistent due to swift action, it didn’t matter.
“The royal family expresses its regret over this incident. We are deeply disappointed. How could such a thing happen at an academy meant to train counterintelligence operatives?”
The royal house publicly condemned the Academy’s management and decided to drastically cut its funding.
At the same time, they released a furious statement against the Kreutz Kingdom. Kreutz, of course, denied everything. Despite multiple pieces of damning evidence surfacing, they played dumb to the end.
The news spread across the continent. The once-delicate power balance between Hiaka and Kreutz shifted sharply in Kreutz’s favor.
People usually side with the weak. Nations usually side with the strong.
Hiaka came under fire from all sides.
But Hiaka didn’t just sit still.
Ezekiel managed to borrow the national treasure “The ⧉Register” from the royal vault.
Then, both the Black Abyss and White Saber Division Chiefs vanished, accompanied by the Royal Assassination Unit.
Within two weeks, Kreutz Kingdom suffered a wave of devastating terror attacks.
Magic signal towers in major cities were destroyed.
Mines collapsed.
Airports and other key facilities were bombed.
Entire assassination units trained by Kreutz Academy disappeared without a trace.
No one could confirm who did it, but everyone who needed to know—knew.
The Kreutz royal family eventually issued a vague statement:
“We don’t know who did it, but if this doesn’t stop now, we’ll both end up dead.”
Only then did the retaliatory assassinations cease.
A kind of proportional deterrence strategy.
Hiaka had inflicted as much, if not more, damage in return—but no one felt any satisfaction.
Only a profound sense of defeat.
Meanwhile, the Kreutz side proudly paraded their stolen prize: several top-tier [Grandmaster] assassins who had defected from Hiaka. Every day, their newspapers and broadcasts featured glowing interviews and propaganda.
“Give me a break...”
Even I found it ridiculous.
At first, they ran the usual garbage:
Why Kreutz's Future is Brighter Why Hiaka Assassins Are Inferior to Kreutz’s Many Hiaka Professors Are Secretly Planning to Defect—And It’s Not Betrayal, It’s ConversionBut then it devolved into absolute clownery: No Food Like This in Hiaka! Professor Batalion’s Top 3 Kreutz Restaurants! Totally Worth Defecting Just for This: Batalion’s 5 Must-See Kreutz Destinations!Even I, with zero national pride to speak of, thought it was idiotic. You can imagine what the other professors and cadets must’ve thought.
At the end of this chaos, a lot had changed in just two weeks.
Quite a few cadets submitted withdrawal forms. Several professors stepped down from their posts.
In that heavy air of despair—
Shaman Kreutz, Head of the Department of Assassination, made a bold proposal to the Academy’s board and the royal family.
【 Head of Assassination, Shaman: “I propose that we open Hiaka’s Department of Assassination to the Empire.” 】
A truly radical deal.
【 Head of Magic, Ezekiel: “Shaman!” 】
【 Head of Warfare, Vulkan: “Are you serious?” 】
The other department heads were stunned.
For good reason:
Until now, Hiaka’s Department of Assassination had been completely insular—a Galapagos of its own, hoarding its methods and operatives from the outside world.
Sure, tidbits made their way into gossip rags like Assassination Daily, but Hiaka had always minimized academic exchanges, contracts, and collaboration.
【 Shaman: “I’m talking about the core issue. Why did the neutral faculty betray us?” 】
【 Ezekiel: “Because they were blinded by money!!” 】
【 Shaman: “Yes, personal gain was certainly a factor. But that’s only true for someone like Batalion. As the ones running the department, we must look deeper.” 】
【 Shaman: “I’ll admit it. It’s embarrassing, but... Hiaka Academy is a mess.” 】
I happened to be eavesdropping on this conversation from a cat café on the first floor.
And I couldn’t help but let out a snort.
It was shocking.
【 Ezekiel: “......” 】
【 Vulkan: “......” 】
【 Director Hedwig: “......” 】
The department heads and the Director were internally horrified.
【 Shaman: “After the Second Assassin War, we shut our doors. At first, it was to protect ourselves. But over time, we became a greenhouse—and now we may have simply... withered away.” 】
Shaman really was a sharp department head. He saw the problem for what it was, and had the courage to propose radical reform.
After his speech on opening the department—
【 The department heads all looked to the Director. {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} 】
【 Director Hedwig: “Hm? Ah, yes.” 】
【 Director Hedwig: “Ahem! So you’re saying we should suckle at the warm teat of the Empire?” 】
【 Shaman: “Yes, Director. As vulgar as always.” 】
【 Director Hedwig: “Why thank you! Isn’t it sad? After all that work locking the gates... I’m the one opening them myself?” 】
From this, I understood what the next main story would be.
【 “But for middling powers like us... maybe a middling path is all we get.” 】
Opening up the once-closed Hiaka Department of Assassination.
Launching academic exchanges and international programs with the Empire—a land of opportunity filled with dungeons, labyrinths, and contracts ripe for the taking.
The start of a new Main Story—
「 Main Story 2: The Betting Table 」
The only early-game route that lets you step foot on the Empire—a massive casino of fate.
Either you rise, staking everything Hiaka has, or you plummet into an abyss of instant death.
As the name implies, the choices are many, the risks and rewards—enormous.
“From a cadet’s perspective, it used to be simple: learn from your professor, then go out and get results.”
This time, it’s from the professor’s side.
“Now, it’ll be my cadets out there making a name for themselves—and their success will count as my own.”
Their accomplishments would be credited to me, and I’d receive more Stellar Fragments for it.
【 Director Hedwig: “Sounds good! But I still have questions. Just opening the department doesn’t give us competitiveness. What advantage do we have?” 】
【 Shaman: “I believe every single professor and cadet we have is an advantage.” 】
【 Director Hedwig: “Please don’t say stuff like, ‘Even my kid could’ve become a top student in the Empire~’” 】
【 Shaman: “...This year’s 1st-year Assassination cadets are prodigies.” 】
【 Director Hedwig: “You mean the Dormant Dragon class? I heard they’re basically uncontrollable because of the Princess?” 】
【 Shaman: “That’s... regrettably true. They’re completely outside our control at the moment. It’s a problem we’ll have to solve. But their genius is unmatched.” 】
【 Director Hedwig: “How unmatched~?” 】
【 Shaman: “Overwhelmingly so.” 】
【 Director Hedwig: “More than the department heads?” 】
【 Shaman: “...Yes. Even more than me. That’s why, under normal circumstances, we’d have kept them hidden and raised them in secret.” 】
【 Director Hedwig: “Honestly, that would’ve been dumb. You can’t grow without real combat~” 】
【 Shaman: “Agreed.” 】
After that discussion, the Director finally gave her approval.
【 Director Hedwig: “Ahem! Understood.” 】
【 Director Hedwig: “I’ll submit a proposal to the royal court!” 】
That’s when Adele called for me.
“Professor. The café’s about to close.”
They were closing earlier than usual.
The owner was in a gloomy mood.
“Got it.”
I’d heard enough anyway.
Time to head home.
And so, when Adele and I returned to the professor’s residence—
A familiar figure was waiting on the living room sofa.
Legs crossed.
Red heels.
“...Where did you learn the habit of sneaking into people’s houses uninvited?”
“Isn’t that just standard assassin etiquette?”
It was Princess Rebecca.
***
“By the Way, Department Head!”
“Yes?”
Yes.”
“......”
“Oh my! Three department heads at once! Haha~”
After shooing away the other two department heads, the Director turned to Shaman.
“So, what about the spy you mentioned before?”
Shaman furrowed his brow. This person was always like this—diving straight into the point with no tact whatsoever. No sense of decorum.
“I plan to observe him.”
“The spy?”
“Yes. I have my own reasons.”
“Hmph! Fine. On another note... I heard you lent a national treasure to some professor under your department’s authority?”
“Who said that?”
“Our friends in ‘this side of the business!’”
Shaman shook his head.
“There it is again... that damned ‘this side of the business.’”
“You never care a bit about the department itself, but you sure hear everything.”
At that, Director Hedwig’s beak-shaped mouth on the owl mascot head wobbled with [Illusion Magic].
“Don’t dismiss me! I’m a very clever director!”
To be precise, it was the puppet mouth of a stupid-looking owl costume, animated by illusion magic.
No one—not even the department heads—knew the age, gender, or species of the creature inside.
“That’s correct. I authorized a two-year loan. The national treasure.”
“Why!?”
“What do you think?”
The whole Black-White division clash... Back when Hakon died and tensions were erupting between White Saber and Black Abyss—Shaman had been paying close attention.
And this recent incident had made things even clearer.
The new professor, Dante, had driven away a monstrous entity that even two senior professors couldn’t touch.
What did that mean?
“He’s more of a genius than the Dormant Dragon Cadets.”
There hadn’t been time to summon him officially due to the chaos, but his name was already seared into the minds of the Academy’s upper ranks.
“Oh, really?”
“Which brings me to my question for you.”
“What?”
“Who is that professor?”
“I dunno.”
“You don’t know? But you brought him in!”
Growing frustrated, Shaman snapped.
The owl’s blinking eyes slowly fluttered.
“...Don’t know!”
You don’t know!? — That was what he wanted to shout. But in the end, he could only accept that this inscrutable creature was once again playing its strange little games.
“Anyway! Now’s not the time to be fussing about new professors! What really matters, right now, is—!”
“What?”
“—the genius cadets, of course! A tool’s only useful if it obeys! Department Head, you need to think of a way to control those kids! Okay?!”
“......”
He really didn’t want to bring this up.
But given the circumstances, the information had to be shared.
Shaman spoke cautiously.
“...They seem to listen to Professor Dante.”
The owl’s mouth gaped wide.
“Really?”
So Shaman elaborated.
The Dormant Dragon cadets refused to listen to any professor. Even the Princess was impossibly perfect in her noncompliance—utterly unmanageable.
But...
Ace cadet Kaiser, Balmung, Elize—all showed strong affection for Dante. And only Dante.
The Director, now visibly serious, responded:
“Maybe it’s time we replaced the Department Head.”
“...Excuse me?”
“Joke, joke. Haha!”
“......”
***
That day was a strange one.
Even for a squirrel, who was busily preparing for winter on Starfall Mountain—gathering acorns, pinecones, and whatnot.
In a deep part of the forest, there was a cave. And inside the cave, lived something like a human. The squirrel didn’t know exactly what it was... but at least it wasn’t a threat.
Normally, the “neighbor” never came out during the day. Only at night. The “neighbor” was very punctual.
But today... today was different.
The “neighbor” came out before sunset.
“......”
Having lived half its life in the same territory, the squirrel was naturally curious and decided to follow.
The “neighbor” crept quietly down the mountain trail and stopped near a certain boundary—the very edge of its known domain.
The squirrel knew the place too. For whatever reason, the “neighbor” never crossed that boundary.
Not that there was anything special beyond it.
But today was definitely strange.
After hesitating for a while, the “neighbor” finally stepped beyond the line. Hundreds of squirrel-steps downhill, it stopped. And began to observe the paved road below.
What is he doing?
Pinecone tucked in its arms, the squirrel watched silently. The “neighbor” didn’t take his eyes off the road for a long time. A very long time.
Unable to hold back, the squirrel finally asked:
“Squeak?”
Whatcha doing?
...But the “neighbor” didn’t respond. He never did.
The squirrel had figured out a while ago that the “neighbor” couldn’t hear.
After a while, the squirrel got bored and turned to leave. But in the process of yawning, it dropped the pinecone cradled in its arms.
Oh no. My pinecone.
And then, unbelievably, the “neighbor” bent down—and picked it up.
“Squeak.”
Please give it back.
The “neighbor” ignored him and started walking away.
“Squeak?”
He’s... taking it? Just like that?
“Squeak-squeak?!”
EXCUSE ME.
THIS. IS. MINE.
With not even a glance, that bastard just stole it!
“Squeak! Squeak!”
HELLO?? NEIGHBORS??
THIS GUY IS STEALING MY WINTER FOOD!!
AND HE’S NOT EVEN GONNA EAT IT!!
“Squeak-squeak-squeak-squeak!”
UNBELIEVABLE!!
Now he’s picking up more!
He’s hoarding EVERY DAMN PINE NUT ON THE MOUNTAIN—!!
Despite all the protests, the “neighbor” didn’t hear him. And the poor squirrel lost his pinecone.
It really was a strange day.