Academy’s Undercover Professor-Chapter 303: Andrei Semov (2)

“This really isn’t good.”

Gripping his sword more firmly, Passius muttered as he stared down his opponent.

The battlefield around him was scorched and battered, testifying to the fierce clashes that had taken place—slashing trails from his blade, craters carved by Andrei’s mana.

He looked at Andrei.

The man stood there as if untouched, exactly as he had before the fighting began.

Passius had thought the fight was intense—yet Andrei showed no sign of exhaustion.

‘Not even a crack in his defense. Isn’t this the part where most enemies let their guard down a little?’

During his time as the First Princess’s shadow, Passius had faced many foes.

Most of them died without ever going all-out—overconfident, they fell before unleashing their full strength.

Passius had assumed Andrei was the same type.

Even when the man was branded a black mage and driven out, he had continued forbidden human experiments.

Mages who broke taboos in their thirst for knowledge were always the same—self-satisfied, smug, and dismissive of others.

They thought themselves the best, looked down on others, and rarely gave their all in battle.

But Andrei?

He had gone all-in from the start—unleashing everything: his test subjects, his modified body, even refined demonic power.

And because of that, even against the four of them, Andrei held his ground and responded perfectly.

‘I can deal with the three test subjects... But the real problem is that demonic power. We don’t even know what it is yet, and that’s what makes it dangerous.’

Passius recalled the earlier exchange.

As a Master-class knight, he had the highest close-combat capabilities here.

So while the other three handled the test subjects, Passius took on Andrei.

Andrei was a powerful mage—but one who’d spent most of his life in research. His combat ability, while high, showed minor flaws.

Of course, those flaws were so subtle only a Master like Passius could notice them.

To anyone else, they would be invisible.

Which spoke volumes about how skilled Andrei truly was.

And now he was even stronger than before.

‘It’s the demonic power... Every time I go in to exploit an opening, something distorts my force.’

It wasn’t nullifying his strength.

It was disrupting it.

‘The black ripples that emanate during battle... every time I touch them, my focus scatters.’

His aura wouldn’t form properly. His blade would feel dull, like it had lost its edge.

His fighting spirit flickered like a candle in the wind.

It wasn’t a physical effect.

The demonic power interfered with the mind itself.

‘This is the worst.’

If it were just overwhelming power, there might be ways to counter it.

But psychological interference?

That made it particularly vile.

‘No surprise—it’s demonic power, after all.’

To call demonic power “vile” was almost a compliment.

Even so, Passius forced himself to rally his shaken resolve.

Andrei, watching him, eyed the knight with increased wariness.

‘So this is the difference. Swordmasters really are something else.’

Andrei had fortified his body beyond comparison and now wielded a dense, overwhelming energy that far surpassed ordinary mana.

With the addition of demonic power, he had eclipsed even the Lexuror level of mages.

The black ripples he emitted disrupted the opponent’s mind.

Most enemies would lose their will to fight just by facing him—fall into fear, or even hallucinations.

But even after clashing blows multiple times, Passius continued analyzing Andrei’s weaknesses, unfazed.

His resolve had not wavered.

It was the kind of mental fortitude only a Master-class knight could possess.

But more than his mind, it was Passius’s fighting style that worried Andrei most.

‘He doesn’t fight like the others. No “honorable tactics” at all.’

Andrei had noticed from the very beginning—when Passius launched that ambush.

He fought to win, using anything.

He scattered aura like throwing knives, kicked up dirt to blind his opponent, withdrew when the situation was unfavorable, and even feinted attacks multiple times.

A master of deception and misdirection.

Most Masters were strong enough to win head-on—so they chose to face opponents directly.

It wasn’t arrogance.

It was rational—because they knew how powerful they were.

But Passius was different.

He didn’t care about honor, or appearances.

‘A Master who fights purely to win, by any means necessary. How can someone so terrifying exist?’

Andrei thought that far, then let out a bitter laugh.

He was the one using demonic power—who was he to judge?

“Tch.”

Just as he turned his attention back to battle, a surge of cold aura closed in on him.

Clicking his tongue, Andrei swung his arm.

Thwack!

His black-mana-infused arm struck Veronica, sending her flying backward.

But something about the impact didn’t feel right.

She had raised her sword just in time to block it.

She landed lightly and stood firm, prompting Andrei to frown.

He brushed frost off his forearm and glanced toward the area where the test subjects had been fighting.

“Hm. Took them out already? At least they were supposed to buy some time.”

The twisted, crumpled remains of the test subjects lay scattered around.

They hadn’t been slashed or hacked apart—just crushed.

“...Hiding his strength, was he?”

At the center of the carnage stood a man in a white robe and iron helmet.

Iron Mask Roteron.

A bizarre mage—dressed like a cleric, but wearing a helmet.

Rumored to be one of the pillars of the New Mage Tower, but to think he used such strange techniques...

“[Singularity]-type magic?”

“That’s correct.”

As Roteron spoke, a translucent figure materialized behind him.

A muscular man with long hair and a beard—towering, imposing.

It wasn’t a summoned beast made of mana.

It was something more sacred. More powerful.

“...Origin Magic.”

A rare and mysterious branch of magic that borrowed strength from great souls.

It resembled necromancy—but was fundamentally different.

Where necromancy called forth lingering thoughts or faint spirits of the dead...

Origin magic channeled power from the Great Flow, calling upon the strength of historical heroes.

Thus, it was often called by another name:

Myth Reenactment.

“So you’ve been hiding that until now... And chose this moment to reveal it.”

“It’s the perfect match for demonic power.”

“...Now I see why you hide your face.”

Andrei muttered to himself, then summoned his mana.

Separate from the demonic energy—this was his own, refined magical power.

The countless spell diagrams forming in the air like constellations made it clear: his magic was far from ordinary.

As the formula took shape, Veronica, Passius, and the war mage all moved at once to intercept.

“You’re too late.”

From Andrei’s blackened arm, countless yellow eyes burst forth, staring at the approaching enemies.

The eerie pulse in their gaze delivered a psychic shock to each opponent.

Their formation faltered for just a moment—and in that instant, Andrei’s spell completed.

6th-Circle Earth Attribute Grand Spell

[Jincheon Stone-Whale Resonance]

Shloooom!

The ground began to ripple like waves.

Everyone standing upon it struggled to maintain their balance.

The once-solid earth had softened, become loose and fluid—almost like water.

Strangely, only the floor undulated like a liquid surface. The walls and ceiling remained perfectly still.

Then, something burst from beneath the surging ground.

A whale.

A massive whale, made entirely of rock and stone.

Fwoooosh!

The stone whale that had swum through the ocean of earth surged up high into the air.

As its head approached the World Tree hanging from the ceiling, the whale’s titanic body slowly tipped sideways.

And beneath it stood Roteron, the man in the iron mask.

He tried to dodge, but the sheer size of the whale made it nearly impossible to escape.

The constantly rippling ground only hindered him more.

And so, the stone whale came crashing down on top of him.

The impact exploded like a barrage of bombs, unleashing a massive shockwave.

“Roteron!”

Veronica shouted toward the cloud of thick dust.

As the haze cleared, Andrei let out a note of admiration.

“Oh? He managed to deflect the force?”

Roteron was alive.

His robe was tattered and he was panting heavily, but for someone who had just taken a direct hit from a 6th-circle spell, he looked remarkably fine.

It was all thanks to the power of the mighty spirit that had manifested behind him.

Unlike the elder who had thrown punches earlier, this time it was a stalwart general bearing a large shield who protected Roteron.

Of course, that protection came at a cost.

Crack!

A fissure spread across Roteron’s helmet.

The crack rapidly expanded, and finally, the iron helm shattered and clattered to the floor.

Veronica’s eyes widened, and Passius raised his brows in surprise.

Andrei, meanwhile, smiled.

“So that’s the beastly scent I was picking up.”

Roteron’s thick brown hair spilled down his back.

Golden eyes. Sun-kissed skin.

And most striking of all—beast-like ears protruding from atop his head.

“A barbaric beastkin? And one strong enough to reach Lexuror level and claim a seat at the New Mage Tower, no less.”

Come to think of it, the mighty spirit he summoned with Origin Magic earlier looked more like a warrior than a mage.

Beastkin were known to wield a strange power called Spirit—and perhaps it had some connection to the use of Origin Magic.

Roteron shakily touched his exposed face, then slowly raised his head to glare at Andrei.

His pupils had become vertical slits, brimming with feral, primal hostility.

“Hm.”

Outwardly ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) calm, Passius was inwardly calculating furiously.

‘So Roteron’s a beastkin—that’s unexpected, but not particularly relevant right now.’

He assessed Roteron’s condition.

With the mask gone, the man looked noticeably unsettled.

He could still contribute as a fighter, but expecting the same sharp precision from earlier would be difficult.

Andrei, meanwhile, was completely unscathed.

The longer this dragged on, the worse it became for them.

‘A prolonged head-on fight favors him.’

Neither side had a definitive finishing move, but Andrei was simply stalling until his test subjects awakened.

If their group remained entangled here, then they were already playing into his hands.

‘If the mission takes priority...’

Passius narrowed his eyes.

If he broke away while the other three held Andrei...

He could destroy the laboratory deeper inside.

But in doing so, their delicate balance would tip drastically—someone could be gravely wounded, or even killed.

The only reason this standoff was holding at all was because a Master-class knight like him was occupying Andrei’s full attention.

‘So do I sacrifice three people to stop Andrei’s plan... or hold out until reinforcements arrive?’

The old Passius wouldn’t have hesitated—he would have chosen to abandon them.

He came here solely to obey the Princess’s orders. He felt no real comradeship with these allies.

If they died, it would be unfortunate—but rationally justifiable.

But now, he hesitated.

And that hesitation was probably because of Ludger.

The Princess’s former dagger in the dark—his senior.

Ever since their reunion and conversation, Passius had begun to change.

‘I shouldn’t be hesitating like this.’

Frustrated, Passius was struggling inwardly when suddenly his eyes lit up—and a wide grin spread across his face.

“...What is it?”

Andrei couldn’t immediately understand why Passius was smiling and reacted a beat too late.

His blackened arm moved on instinct.

The countless yellow eyes on his arm twisted and writhed, all turning to focus in one direction.

From there, a silver-haired knight in a black uniform came charging with twin swords.

The mind-shattering ripple of demonic energy?—useless in that moment.

By the time Andrei even sensed the killing intent...

...it was already too late.

“What—?!”

He gasped, watching his blackened arm break into countless pieces and scatter.

Fast. Sharp.

There had been no opening.

He was shielded in mana, layered in magical barriers.

And yet the enemy slipped through all of it, soundlessly, and severed his arm.

Only a Master could do that.

‘Master?’

Of course.

Andrei’s eyes quickly regained clarity.

Thanks to that, he managed to repel the next follow-up attack by releasing a burst of black energy outward.

Terrina Lionhowl clicked her tongue in frustration as she retreated.

Then—over her shoulder—a blast of golden mana came flying.

A focused beam fired by Chris Bennimore’s magic beast.

It struck Andrei squarely.

The split mana trails exploded backward, cracking against the cavern walls.

Zzzrrrk—!

Andrei slowly lowered his one remaining arm, now seared red.

“...So. All the guests are here.”

His narrowed eyes scanned the battlefield.

Two were missing.

Two who should have been here.

‘Where are they?’

He turned his head.

‘No... Don’t tell me—’

That direction...

Was where the laboratory—and his subordinates—were located.