Melancholy doesn’t last long.
That’s one of Elize’s better qualities.
“Mm...♬”
She doesn’t dwell on complicated things, nor does she grasp the full scope of her surroundings. But in times like this, that’s actually a good trait to have.
Still, she could tell everyone around her seemed down. And Elize believed it was her job to help.
Hmm...
What should she do?
A bracelet?
So she decided to make bracelets. The kind her elder sisters in the Xikos family used to make long ago.
The method was simple.
The pink hair of the Xikos family is resilient and glossy. She pulled out a few strands, smoothed them, threaded in some beads, and then drew the symbol of Shadowless Star, “○,” onto a wooden tag.
If there was misfortune clinging to someone, the power of “Shadowless Star○” would drive it away.
With that hope in mind, Elize began handing the bracelets out to the Dormant Dragon Cadets.
“...Thanks.”
First, to Kaiser in the next room, who’d been spacing out for days.
“What is this...?”
“A bracelet.”
“Oh, right...”
To Balmung, who seemed uncharacteristically glum.
“...Where’d they go?”
She left bracelets on the doorknobs of Quan and Kendreik, who had suddenly gone missing.
“What is this.”
She even delivered one to the princess—despite thinking she’d be scolded for it.
“It’s a bracelet, Princess.”
“.......”
Elize had been incredibly nervous. She knew just how much the princess hated ‘resistance.’
It had been that way from their very first meeting. When Elize had gone to visit Rebecca’s estate, the princess had been in the middle of killing a man. With a fork. She was stabbing into his throat.
The man had been a servant in charge of maintaining Rebecca’s clothes, and it was because a strap had come undone during a banquet.
Still, nothing scandalous had happened. Rebecca had quickly grabbed the strap and smiled it off. But when she returned—she had already decided to kill the servant.
That same princess had ordered her to kill Professor Dante, calling it a “mission.” Elize didn’t obey.
“You made this?”
“Yes.”
She’d expected a scolding, but surprisingly, the princess accepted the bracelet without complaint. She lifted it and stared at it like she was holding a rubber band.
“......”
But that was all. So Elize bowed her head and left.
She hoped, at the very least, that the gloom would ease a little.
There were only two left. Leaving one aside, the last was meant for Gray.
Sniffing the air with her eyes closed, Elize followed her nose to the backyard of the dormitory.
Clink!
There, Gray was training her [Illusion]. A familiar scene. Last time it had been shattered glass—now, it was something like feathers raining down.
“No good...”
Gray muttered, collapsed on her knees.
Elize quietly hid behind the wall and watched. What was she doing? What did she mean, “no good”?
“No good... No, no, it’s not working... why won’t it work...?”
Then Gray cast [Illusion] again, and one massive wing rose toward the sky. From Elize’s perspective, it was astonishingly large.
But Gray released the mana, and the illusion broke down into scattered feathers once again.
What’s wrong with her?
Elize still didn’t understand.
“......”
At the end of it, Gray collapsed again—this time with a nosebleed.
Sigh. Not again.
At some point, Gray had started overtraining herself. She’d collapsed from overwork even before the airship mission.
Regardless, it was bracelet time.
“Are you okay, Gray?”
“...What the hell. Why are you here.”
“I, um, came to give you something. This. I made it... a bracelet...”
“...Hey.”
“Huh?”
Kneeling with her forehead pressed to the ground—
Gray spoke.
“Don’t come see me when I’m training.”
“Huh? Why...?”
“Just don’t. Every time you suddenly pop out, it’s honestly uncomfortable.”
“......”
“Why aren’t you answering? I said don’t come when I’m training. Didn’t you hear me?”
Her voice grew more and more heated.
“...Okay. Got it...”
Elize rolled her pink eyes for a moment, then tried to smile again, to change the subject.
“Oh, but I heard the news. You’re gonna be on the cover of Assassination Monthly next month, right?”
“Can you just... leave for now?”
“What? Why...? I heard it’s a big deal. They don’t let just anyone on the cover—”
“Elize. Please...”
“Lucy said so. She said back in the airship, you—”
“AH—!!”
At that, Gray snapped her head up in frustration.
Blood dripped from the corners of her eyes and nose.
Startled, Elize recoiled. Gray snatched the bracelet from her hand—threaded with the material called “Silver Thread.”
“I’ll use it. Happy now? Now go the hell away!”
“......”
Elize had no choice but to quietly turn around.
She glanced back, then walked back to her room.
“......”
She didn’t feel good.
But she got over it quickly.
Melancholy doesn’t last long.
That’s one of Elize’s better qualities.
“Mm...♪”
The last bracelet was for Professor Dante.
She even added a special bone pattern on it.
The reason was simple: she liked bones. So of course, the professor would like them too. Right?
Boneeees...♬
She wanted to give it to him right away, but that wasn’t likely.
She’d probably just hand it over when they met during finals.
* * *
“Professor!”
It was an ordinary afternoon.
Adele came running for me in a panic.
“The Department Head wants to see you!”
“What?”
“Just what I said! The department called—”
An unexpected development.
Why would Shaman Kreutz suddenly summon me?
So I went to the Department Head’s office in the faculty building... and found myself staring at a room full of heavyweights.
Five senior professors. One of them, surprisingly, was Head Professor Galois.
Someone I’d never imagined meeting this casually.
At the seat of honor sat the head of the Magic Department—Ezekiel.
So he was the department head?
“Take a seat, Professor Dante.”
The average age in this room? Probably around 80.
“...Yes.”
While an assistant prepared refreshments, the senior professors all stared at me. All of them had expressions brimming with interest.
I scanned their thoughts using 【Script】 and got a sense of the situation.
How the hell did the exam sheet end up in Ezekiel’s hands?
I already knew my name had spread among the senior professors. Obviously. With all the things I’d done, how could it not?
But this was the first time they’d all gathered like this.
Are they suspecting me because of the exam sheet?
Didn’t seem that way. All the thoughts showing up in 【Script】 were rounded, casual.
【He’s really 30?】
【I heard his Illusion level was high, but damn.】
【Where the hell did the Director dig up this jackpot?】
...And so on.
Tea was served, and then the real conversation began.
“Professor Dante.”
Ezekiel, the head of the Magic Department, finally opened his mouth.
Though he was nearly in his nineties, he looked no older than forty. The sheer density of mana around him made that possible.
He spoke in a voice laced with nobility.
“My apologies for being so abrupt. You must be a busy man.”
“It’s alright.”
“Let me get to the point. Would it be alright... if we kept the professor’s name off of this?”
He started from the conclusion, miles down the line.
“You mean conceal my name? May I ask why?”
“Of course. Just earlier this afternoon, Head Professor Galois and I took a look at your final exam.”
Off to the side, Galois winked at me.
“This, you designed this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“You mean the tree?”
“Yes, the tree... So it was intentional.”
“Yes.”
“Knew it. You don’t build a clock tower because a wave rolled in. This can’t be called just a final exam.”
Thump.
He laid the test paper down in front of me.
More precisely, a perfectly duplicated copy.
“This would be far too dangerous to publish under your real name.”
“......”
“There are two things Kreutz focused on the most in this whole betrayal scheme. You know what they are, don’t you?”
I did. The first: poaching as many professors as possible. The second: eradicating the seed of [Illusion].
“From here on, this is top-level classified. Kreutz began a massive investment in [Illusion Studies] fifteen years ago, betting their military future on it.”
“......”
My eyes narrowed. That wasn’t in the original settings.
Originally, Kreutz’s focus was on Holy magic. That had been rewritten.
In other words—[Hell Difficulty] exclusive lore.
“How much did Kreutz invest?”
“By estimates, about 4.5% of the national budget.”
“If that’s been ongoing for fifteen years...”
“Then we're talking roughly five hundred billion Hika.”
Five hundred billion Hika. An astronomical amount.
Even over fifteen years, that’s enough to bankrupt a kingdom.
For reference: Hika is the continent’s common currency. The fact that it resembles “Hiaka” is a coincidence.
“In the past, our Hiaka was among the top three countries in [Illusion].”
“You mean before the Habanero incident.”
“Exactly. It started with the partial destruction of the Habanero family during the Second Assassination War. Gloomy’s recent betrayal completed the collapse. We lost our competitive edge.”
“......”
“Now, aside from the Empire, no nation can match Kreutz’s [Illusion Studies]...”
Ezekiel smiled faintly.
“...Or rather, that would have been the case—until our Professor Dante got himself hired here.”
A terrifying eye for talent.
Ezekiel wasn’t even an illusion specialist, but from one exam sheet, he’d fully grasped the level of my mastery.
“Do you know how I feel right now?”
“You seem pleased.”
“I’m thrilled.”
Ezekiel laughed. It was mockery aimed at Kreutz—a cathartic joy that their 15-year tower might crumble because of me.
And directed at me, it was practically love. Understandably so.
“To be blunt, your level in [Illusion] might even rival my magic. That’s how highly I rate you.”
“You flatter me.”
“It’s not flattery. You must know it yourself—how absurdly advanced you are at age thirty.”
I did. At thirty, I was at [Challenger]-rank. Even I knew that made no sense. With the Star Fragment System factored in, I’d be around [2.9].
“And I imagine you know how Kreutz would react if they learned about you.”
It was a grim situation.
Kreutz had invested everything in [Illusion].
They took Gloomy, believing her «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» their finished product.
But then there was me—here.
If my existence gets exposed, I’m assassination target #1.
“That’s why your exam sheet is a problem. The intent is good—but it risks revealing you to the outside.”
“Right. I hadn’t considered that far.”
“Of course not. Kreutz’s obsession with [Illusion] was top secret.”
“Then... should we scrap the final exam?”
Galois suddenly leapt out of his seat.
“Are you insane?! Why would we scrap it?!”
“Calm down, Galois.”
“No, no, no—Professor Dante! If you ever have spare time, how about lunch with me? Hm?”
“Head Professor Galois, please—”
“You didn’t copy this from anywhere, right? I only heard the rumors but I was floored when I saw it. Who taught you illusion like that? Where the hell did you learn—”
Head Professor Galois was going off the rails.
Academic lust.
The department head had to forcibly rein him in.
“The honor is mine, Professor Galois.”
“No, the honor’s all mine, my friend. Hah! Anyway. Hm? Call me later, alright? Okay? Call me?”
He pressed his thumb and pinky to his mouth and ear, then reluctantly backed off.
Returning to the main topic.
“So that’s why you suggested hiding my name.”
“If you get marked for assassination unnecessarily, it’s a problem. I’ll handle your name, background, cover identity, schedule—everything. And any benefits that arise from this, we’ll assign them to you.”
“What’s the cut?”
“One hundred percent.”
I’m naturally distrustful of people, so I checked 【Script】—and it was 100% sincere.
Astounding.
“...I’m just grateful for your concern. But isn’t this too much favor?”
“If you're about to say it’s unfair—come now. When in history was humanity ever fair, even once?”
Ezekiel smiled crookedly.
The face of a noble, radiating absolute privilege.
Not that I minded being the beneficiary of such unfairness.
“......”
And for the first time—I felt a sense of belonging in Hiaka.
Even though I’d done nothing, there were people here trying to protect me.
I was part of the same fence as them.
If “Main Story 2: The Betting Table” had begun, I’d have needed to find a way to hide my name, even without the department’s help.
Right now, in terms of pure combat, I’m ambiguous. Depending on the situation, I could outperform head professors—or die to three idiot cadets.
If Kreutz sends a serious hit team, I’ll be toast. But Ezekiel was offering perfect countermeasures for free. There was no reason to say no.
“I’ll be in your care.”
Afterward, we had a lot of small talk. It seemed the department was deeply curious about my “past.” But I didn’t have one, so I had nothing to say. I got mildly accused of “being too tight-lipped at a private table,” which was unfair.
“Oh, right. Let’s decide on a name before we wrap up. For our Academy’s newly-appointed prodigy professor of Assassination by Illusion—what shall we call him?”
I paused briefly to think.
Then, a name surfaced.
I had no idea why.
“Kain.”
That would be my alias from now on.
That was supposed to be the end of the meeting.
But apparently it wasn’t.
Ezekiel used 『Psychokinesis』 to float something toward me—a golden badge.
A senior professor’s badge.
“Looking forward to working with you, Professor Dante—Senior Professor.”
I couldn’t believe my ears.
“...Excuse me?”