Surviving the Assassin Academy as a Genius Professor-Chapter 56: On the Snow-Covered Ruins, the Christmas Bell Rings (1)

There are things that are fair to everyone.

Like death, loneliness, the passage of time... or snowfall in the heart of winter.

No matter how wealthy or powerful someone may be, the snow does not spare their heads as it falls from the sky.

It was the first snow.

The first snow had begun covering the ruins of Hiaka Academy, blanketing all the filth and debris in white.

I made my way through Zone 0 and Zone 2’s memorial sites—the ones where the Assassination War had erupted. Places that had little to do with me. Still, I went.

The memorial sites were being dismantled. Two weeks had passed since the war ended. The Academy had to begin standing back up.

So this time, I headed toward the cemetery.

At the center of the cemetery stood a massive stone monument. Etched into it were the names of every person who’d died in the conflict with Kreutz.

There were... many. Far more than I’d expected.

As I passed the monument and entered deeper, I began to see gravestones.

I walked slowly through them, reading the inscriptions.

“Master blacksmith of the Department of Magic, Gustafson. Off to repair Heaven’s Gate.”

Stones laid bare amid countless funeral portraits and artificial wreaths. People sobbing before them.

“Professor Chris, with the dashing mustache—your research and papers will be carried on by us.”

I kept reading them.

“Homerun, who brought laughter through service even while ill. Perhaps Heaven was short on angels.”

There wasn’t a specific reason.

“Tiny angel Yuria, who had just learned to walk—gone too soon. May she fly joyfully with wings now.”

I just... wanted to read.

“Senior Professor Lamuan of Defensive Magic. Lay here, having protected his students.”

“Hoban, the coward who cried even from a needle prick—we will never forget how you ran into the fire to save your friend.”

“Rena, who gave up her hard-won place at the Academy to nurse her sister.”

“Ophelia, the sister who always felt sorry to her younger sibling.”

“May the sisters find happiness in a heaven free from pain.”

⋮

My mother passed when I was around ten.

And with no father, I was sent to stay with not-so-welcoming relatives. Later, I found out the deposit from our old lease had been transferred under their names. Apparently, the law allowed that back then.

What I remember is the cold floor, the occasional rat scurrying across it. I always squatted in a corner—had to stay out of sight when the uncle came home.

Wandering through snowy streets was miserable—cold, wet, the snow melting and seeping through the holes in my shoes.

But there was one thing I found fascinating.

The view through windows of nearby homes.

Warm-looking houses. Piles of wrapped presents. Christmas trees with glittering lights. TVs always on.

I could never stand by those windows for long—it was someone’s home, after all—but still, it sparked all kinds of thoughts.

What’s going on in there?

What kind of child lives there? What kind of parents?

What’s inside those big boxes?

I would sit in front of the wall and let my imagination fill in the blanks.

Time passed quickly that way.

I didn’t hate it. Didn’t even feel jealous... If anything, it made my time outside on Christmas a little more enjoyable.

I wondered: Could I ever create something like that?

Could I someday share a warm space like that with someone beside me?

So why were those memories surfacing now?

These were people I didn’t know. People who had died with no relation to me.

That part... I still don’t understand.

Death is momentary. But loss—that lasts forever.

Still, I know one thing:

The living must go on.

And I understand now what it is that the living need, in order to survive...

“Adele.”

“Yes, Professor?”

“I’ll be working on a personal project. Don’t come looking for me for two weeks.”

The Academy was preparing to resume classes. Before that, they were giving everyone time to recover.

Buildings had been destroyed. Whole areas turned to ruin. People had died.

Of course recovery time was needed.

A notice went out to the professors: those planning to hold final exams in two weeks could begin preparing.

And I intended to prepare.

The final exam.

Only one question.

“Christmas.”

Not in the Christian sense—this world has no such thing.

But we do have a ceremony to celebrate the birth of the Holy Mother.

...If I sell all the magic tools I took from enemy assassins, I should have just enough funding.

I needed to prepare.

I’d need to buy a lot of materials. I’d need time. I’d need revolutionary levels of illusion understanding and execution.

Because what I was about to create—

Had to be huge,

Had to last,

And had to be executed with unmistakable precision.

The Academy was still in chaos, so I’d have to juggle it with my duties as a professor.

It would be a very busy two weeks.

『World Forgery: Form Forgery [Basic Particle]』

It began with a single, tiny point.

***

The true terror of war is this:

It can destroy the foundation someone truly believed would last forever.

“Huh? What? No, fuck off—!”

Like Kendreik—

Who had always thought the family company Drake & Guns would last forever. Something to hand down to his grandson’s grandson.

Now he was being told it had gone under.

“What the hell are you saying?! What about my father?! You couldn’t even protect that?!”

Kreutz had targeted it for being a weapons manufacturer.

“I need my medication, damn it!!”

And then there was Kaiser—

Standing silently before the portrait of a childhood friend from his neighborhood.

“......”

He never got to tell the guy his secret.

Had promised himself he’d come clean once all this walking-the-razor’s-edge business was over.

But the friend—

A worker at the Zone 2 magic ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) arms plant—

Had been engulfed by fire and killed.

Hoban.

A coward.

A fool who always exchanged dumb jokes with him.

What the hell was a guy like that doing charging into a burning building?

“.............”

Kaiser dropped to his knees.

What the hell have I been doing all this time?

Meanwhile—

There was someone else sprinting, gasping for air.

Balmung.

“Haa... Haa...”

There’d been a spike in ghouls. Probably Kreutz’s doing. They were erupting around the memorial zones and graveyards.

And this was happening dangerously close to civilians—Zones 0 to 3.

Someone had to respond.

Warriors and mages were too slow to react. So Balmung requested enforcement support from the Disciplinary Bureau.

<Ghouls on South Street 14!>

<Numbers rising fast! Requesting backup!>

But the real problem was the city itself. [Snipers] like Balmung were virtually useless in tight cities and dense forests.

“This is Team 3, Balmung! Acknowledged! I’m en route!”

So all he could do was run.

Run like hell.

“GRAAARGH!!”

“Aaaagh! R-run!!”

The ghouls burst out, attacking civilians at random. Smashing buildings with their monstrous arms.

And in the midst of it—

“Mom!!”

“Aileen!!”

A child had fallen, having let go of her mother’s hand.

Behind her, a ghoul approached—

Raising the very arm it had used to smash concrete walls.

At that moment—

Balmung held his breath, ready to pull the trigger on Siegfried⚉.

But—

Slip!

He lost balance on the snow-covered street. “Tch!!” Still—he caught his breath and regained control mid-fall.

And he saw it.

BANG —

The bullet imbued with darkness carved a black arc across the broad daylight, crushing the ghoul’s skull with a CRACK!! It had been an impeccable shot—so clean that the ghoul's massive body toppled backward like a ragdoll.

“Th-thank you! Cadet!”

“Please get up! This area’s not safe—head to the shelter, now!”

Even as he spoke, <Communications> continued to buzz nonstop. This street. That building. Another few ghouls... It had been like this for days, no break, day or night.

Still, over the past twenty-four hours, the number of reports had decreased noticeably. Those struggling on the frontlines had just begun to catch their breath. Could it mean... this wave of ghoul outbreaks was finally ending?

That hope shattered, violently.

THUMP—

Without warning, magic erupted, vibrating through the air.

“Ugh...”

Balmung clutched his chest and glanced around uneasily. Another Disciplinary Bureau agent noticed.

“Hey! What’s wrong, Balmung?”

“There’s... demonic energy.”

“Demonic energy?”

It was an overwhelming, noxious magic. Not one—but two distinct sources. And Balmung, ever sensitive to magical presence, sensed it immediately.

“What are you saying? I don’t feel a—”

That’s when it began.

< Dan—danger... >

< zzzzzk... >

< kkkzzzt... zkkk... >

The transmission broke into a dissonant stutter.

“It’s over there!”

“R-right!”

A prickling chill ran down his spine.

Balmung and the agents rushed toward the location—and there, something monstrous began to emerge, so surreal it barely registered as real.

Ghoul Lord.

A colossus—formed from dozens of ghouls mashed together into one grotesque amalgamation—revealed itself before the night’s veil.

A monster standing eight meters tall.

“Uaaaahhh!!”

“R-run!!”

As soon as it manifested, it began tearing down buildings like paper. Even when the agents charged in, it was futile.

BOOM!!

CRASHH!!

One strike, another, and entire structures collapsed.

“Die—!”

Balmung, catching his breath at last, released a Level 7 ability: 『Crushing Thunder Fang』.

BANG! CRACKLE—

The cannon-like bullet surged forward, trailing black lightning, zigzagging through the air until it smashed into the Ghoul Lord’s head.

CRUNCH!!

The massive head shattered.

But it was meaningless.

Other ghouls began to crawl into the ruined cavity—rebuilding it with their own flesh.

The same thing was happening to agents trying to hack off its limbs.

“D-dammit!”

“That thing’s immune to normal attacks!”

“Pull back! Call in the senior professors!”

SMACK—!

One agent was swatted like a bug, crashing through a building wall.

That was bad enough. But now the creature was getting dangerously close to the medical shelter—where the injured were being treated.

“Shift its attention!!”

They had to protect that place. There were patients inside.

Balmung kept firing as fast as his mana could recharge, but the monster did not stop.

Then—just as the behemoth raised its massive, house-sized fist to crush the shelter—

BOOOOM ── !!

Suddenly, the Ghoul Lord’s body was split from shoulder to waist. The monster—eight meters tall—was cleaved in half.

Everyone stood frozen in shock. What could have done that?

Then—

“Get it together! The broken pieces will move on their own!”

A commanding shout rang out.

Balmung turned his head—and saw the man.

“Professor!!”

Charging through the dark— it was none other than Professor Dante Hiakapo.

No one knew what had just happened. But it was clear the devastating strike had come from him.

“Balmung! Assist with the injured!”

“Y-yes, sir!!”

And then—

Balmung’s heart skipped a beat.

The fallen ghouls were gathering—pretending to flee, but clustering at a single point.

From afar—a second Ghoul Lord began to form.

It absorbed even the corpses of the dead ghouls, swelling massively— reaching nearly fifteen meters in size.

An ultra-class Ghoul Lord.

Even curled into summoning form, it was already the size of the previous monster.

A target that required a top-ranked magician to engage directly.

“Wh-what the hell is that—?!”

Gasps rippled as more began to see it.

“No way! T-this is impossible...!!”

“Retreat! Evacuate the shelter!”

Terrified Disciplinary Bureau agents began to scatter.

“Professor Dante! You have to evacuate too!!”

“Professor! Please fall back!”

Even Balmung blocked Dante’s path, desperate to stop him.

But—

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get out of my way.”

“P-Professor?”

“You have your jobs. Go do them.”

“But—!”

“That thing is too dangerous!”

Even as everyone pulled away—

Professor Dante remained perfectly calm. He simply raised his sword.

A plain longsword. Held in a reverse grip.

Dante closed his eyes.

“Raise the blade—”

A voice like ice.

Numb. Detached.

The command that awakens a sleeping divine soldier.

“O, weapon of war.”

In the next moment—the very air twisted.

If the earlier strike was merely a casual release—this was something else.

RRRRUMMMMMMMBLE—

Balmung and the agents couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. An overwhelming force radiated from Dante’s entire body, shaking the surroundings like a quake.

────── .

Everyone’s mouths fell open. They couldn’t see it. But they could feel it.

Something invisible, yet undoubtedly there, began to exert a crushing pressure.

Balmung, hyper-sensitive to magic, flinched in terror.

The sky was moving. The world was shifting.

Within it stood a single weapon.

But Balmung doubted it could be called that anymore.

It was too vast, too grotesquely destructive to be a mere weapon.

It was a catastrophe.

It moved.

Like a heavenly god descending, like a sword swung to decapitate a dragon—

It cleaved the air, split reality itself, and drove directly into the Ghoul Lord’s skull.

KUUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!

Every window in the vicinity shattered.

CRASHHHHH!

Snow whipped through the air in spirals, flung dozens of meters away. The world became crystalline-clear in that instant.

The 15-meter Ghoul Lord tried to raise its head—but its body was slammed into the earth.

Not even a giant of that size could resist a divine execution.

Starting from its head, the entire body began to collapse. Invisible force crushed it—even down to the monster’s core heart.

All of it—

Was obliterated...in a single blow.