Academy’s Undercover Professor-Chapter 4: The Great Train Heist (2)
“Out of the way!”
“You’re in the way!”
Pushing aside those blocking the entrance, the enemy mages stepped into formation.
Their faces were tense as they stared at the man standing alone in Car 4.
A sharp black frock coat embroidered with golden threads draped over a perfectly tailored suit.
Long black hair tied tightly at the nape of the neck.
Eyes colder and sharper than the freezing winds raging outside the shattered train wall.
From his appearance to the pressure he exuded, everything about him felt unmistakably dangerous.
And with his own hands, he had already taken the lives of their comrades who had approached from the rear.
<Who the hell is this guy...?>
The terrorist leader, who had orchestrated the train attack, frowned as he watched the man before them.
He hadn’t expected a mage like this to be on board.
Did they miss something in the intel?
<No. It doesn’t matter. We have five mages on our side.>
They had recruited skilled, high-level personnel—trained magic users.
Even if the train had a few internal guards, they were confident their overwhelming force would crush them.
They hadn’t anticipated a mage being on board, but even so—he was only one man. No matter how skilled he was, they had five.
And among those five, the one they called their leader—Mayhem—was a fourth-circle mage.
<Unless that man is a named fifth-circle mage or higher, he won’t stand a chance.>
There weren’t many on the continent capable of that level of power.
Especially not someone that young—if he had already reached fifth-circle or above, his name would be well known.
At best, he was a fourth-circle mage.
That put him on par with Mayhem.
The man in question didn’t immediately raise his hand or prepare a spell—as if he knew that as well.
“Hmm. Five mages, is it? I see.”
“You’re quick to accept the situation. But it’s already too late.”
“In that case, I suppose I’ll just have to change tactics.”
With that, the man swept his frock coat aside and threw himself from the broken train car into the void beyond.
“Wha—what? He jumped?!”
“Did he just... give up and choose suicide?!”
The terrorists stared in disbelief.
One of the mages cautiously leaned out over the shattered wall, trying to see below—but there was nothing to be seen beneath the sheer cliff face.
“I think he fell... He’s dead!”
“So much for being impressive. In the end, he was just a coward.”
Just as they were beginning to draw that conclusion—
Thwip!
A flash of light pierced through the head of the mage who had leaned out to check.
His body pitched forward, losing balance, and tumbled out of the train.
“Wha—what the hell?!”
“Hanson’s dead!”
Dead? But how? And where did that flash come from?
As confusion spread, their leader Mayhem twisted his face in frustration and looked up.
“The roof! He’s on the roof!”
“The roof?! But didn’t he just jump out?!”
“Did he use flight magic?!”
“Can you even catch up to a speeding train using flight magic?!”
“Shut up and chase him already!”
* * *
<Shame. I was hoping to bait another one out and take him down too.>
Noise rose up from below.
Now that they realized I was still alive, they’d come at me with everything they had.
Faking a fall, clinging to the side of the wall, and climbing up to the roof—it was a trick that worked, but now the element of surprise was gone.
I’d have to be content with taking out one of the five mages.
“Get up there!”
“Kill him!”
Voices echoed between the train cars as figures began to climb up the ladders onto the roof.
But it wouldn’t be that easy.
As if I’d been waiting, I fired shaped mana blasts at the ones climbing up, then turned and sprinted toward the rear cars.
The ones trying to climb up had no choice but to drop back down, driven off by the attacks whizzing past their heads. On an exposed roof, they’d just be targets.
Thump, thump, thump, thump!
I made sure to stomp loudly as I ran, so those waiting inside the cars would hear and come chasing after me.
“He’s heading to the back! He’s retreating toward the rear cars!”
“After him!”
So easy to bait.
Seems killing one of their own had rattled them more than I expected.
Even these suicide-bombing lunatics couldn’t tolerate losing a comrade by someone else’s hand.
A contradictory mindset if ever there was one.
<But if they’re going to act this emotionally, all the better for me.>
It makes them that much easier to manipulate.
* * *
The terrorists split their forces to go after the mage who had fled to the back of the train.
After all, against a mage, only other mages could truly keep up. Non-magical fighters would only get in the way.
Aside from a few to assist the mages, the rest headed toward the still-unbreached first-class car in Car 1.
From the two groups that had split off in Car 4, the mages made their way toward the rear.
“Damn it! Where is he?!”
“What about the ones who went up? Why haven’t we heard from them?!”
“Just keep going!”
They hurriedly opened the next door—
BOOM!
An explosion erupted as soon as the door opened, engulfing the front line in bright red flames.
Five men fell, charred to cinders.
The magically conjured fire did its job thoroughly and snuffed out like a candle flame.
“Y-you bastard!”
“He set traps on the door!”
Mayhem, the mage leading the group, stared down at the corpses of his comrades and cursed.
<He set magical traps in that short amount of time?>
It was impressive—but more than that, it was his tactics that unnerved Mayhem.
Most noble-born mages he knew were full of arrogance, never wanting to move around much.
They always cast their magic while standing tall and proud, as if performing for an audience.
But this man wasn’t like that at all.
<The moment things turned against him, he fled without hesitation. Then, he baited us into a trap and struck when we were least prepared. This isn’t how noble mages operate.>
His tactics were brutally practical, calculated.
This wasn’t the behavior of a mage—it was more like a mercenary... or a hunter.
<Just who... is this guy?>
At first, he’d seemed like just another upper-class mage who’d taken a life.
After all, most people on this train were nobles or wealthy merchants.
Leeches fattened on the blood of poor commoners—none of them worth grieving over.
<But he’s different.>
Who is this man?
As Mayhem pondered this, his expression darkened even further.
“Everyone be cautious. From now on, we go first. He may have more traps laid out—don’t let your guard down for even a second.”
“Yes, sir!”
Led by Mayhem, the mages took point, scanning for traps along the walls and floors as they advanced.
But that caution came at a cost—each time they crossed between cars, they lost valuable time.
“Don’t get impatient. That rat can’t escape the train’s end.”
In the end, the man was cornered. There was nowhere left to run.
It was certain he had retreated to the very last car.
Mayhem was walking slowly when he suddenly came to a halt.
He felt it.
A strange, indescribable unease.
It didn’t take long to realize why.
Clunk! Screeech!
A heavy noise echoed from the very back of the train.
The terrorists, moving cautiously up to that point, instantly froze as their instincts screamed at them.
“Oh no! He’s detached the train cars and is escaping!”
They’d realized it too late, heat rising in their heads.
From the start, he’d never intended to fight them directly. All he needed to do was stall for time and run.
The traps? Just a way to keep them busy and distracted.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
He had swiftly moved to the rearmost car, intending to make a clean escape.
“After him! Don’t let him get away!”
Panic-stricken now, the terrorists had no thought left for traps or caution. Their only goal was to catch and kill the fleeing mage.
They rushed down the train, finally reaching what should have been the final car—Car 12.
But when they yanked the door open, what they saw was not the interior of the next car.
It was snow-covered mountains and empty tracks.
Mayhem grit his teeth.
<I made a mistake. I should have remembered—he never needed to fight us in the first place.>
In the heat of the moment, he’d forgotten that crucial fact.
Who would have expected the enemy to actually go this far just to escape?
“Damn it. Did we lose him?”
“That bastard... I’ve memorized his face. I’ll find him and kill him.”
While they all stared out at the snowy wasteland, seething with frustration—
Mayhem suddenly felt it: a massive surge of magical energy behind him. ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ Every hair on his body stood on end.
“What the...?”
He spun around in a panic.
And there he was.
The man who should’ve disappeared along with Car 12.
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“Why is he... here...?”
But the more important detail wasn’t the man himself.
It was the spell, completed before him and already seconds from activation—a massive elemental spell of savage, destructive power.
“Everyone, get back!”
Mayhem shouted, frantically drawing out every ounce of mana he had left.
In the precious few seconds he had, he summoned the sturdiest magical barrier he could manage.
Fwoooosh!
A colossal spell surged forward, engulfing all of Car 11 in a violent blast.
Brilliant white flames blazed like sunlight, mirroring the snowstorm swirling outside.
The blizzard of fire swept through the car, vaporizing everything in its path—terrorists who hadn’t even had a chance to dodge, obliterated.
* * *
“It’s over.”
I muttered to myself as the magical flames slowly began to fade.
They’d thought I was retreating to Car 12. That was where all their attention had gone.
Of course it had. I set traps, stalled them, and then uncoupled the car. Who wouldn’t think that was my escape plan?
But that too had been a trap.
I pretended to flee and played for time, only to lure them into one place and wipe them out in a single stroke.
The fact that they were so heated helped. It let me control the pace and force them into a bottleneck.
<There might be some left in the front cars, but the mages are done. That’s all that matters.>
Just as I was thinking that, something moved in the rubble.
“You’re still alive, huh.”
“Y-you...”
The one standing—barely—was their leader. He must have managed to get his barrier up just in time.
But that was all.
His body was a mess. He looked like he’d survived by sheer force of will alone.
Half his face was melted, his skin covered in burns, one arm completely gone. He looked like even breathing was a struggle. There was no need to finish him off—he wouldn’t last long.
“Why... why did you do this? Didn’t you feel even a shred of pity for our comrades, who fought for a better world?”
“...What?”
I blinked, stunned. What the hell was he even talking about?
As I stood speechless, baffled by the nonsense, the man glared at me with burning hatred.
“I said—don’t you feel any guilt for killing them?!”
“I already thought you people were insane... but this is beyond delusional.”
“What did you say?!”
“You’re the ones who attacked the train. You slaughtered innocent passengers. And now you act like you’re the victims?”
That’s exactly why this whole thing had me so irritated.
They attacked first, killed everyone in their path—and now they’re upset because their comrades died?
“The people on this train deserved to die!”
“Weren’t you the ones who tried to kill me first? At this point, we’re past negotiation. It’s kill or be killed. What’s with all this righteous posturing now?”
“Th-that’s—”
“If you failed to kill me, then it’s only fair that you die.”
“...Who are you...?”
Finally, he gave up his moralizing and just asked the question.
But I didn’t answer.
Because just then, I saw it—dark shapes flying toward us from the snowstorm outside.
Schhhrrk.
Even through the howling blizzard, I could clearly hear the sound of a blade being drawn.
And then—
A flash of white streaked through the open rear door, slicing clean through the mage from crown to groin.
Shlick!
A perfect, vertical line.
The next instant, a white blur landed silently on the ground behind him. The mage’s body split cleanly in two and fell to either side.
No blood spilled.
The cross-section of his corpse was completely frozen—sealed in solid ice.
Beyond his severed body stood a female knight, a white cape billowing behind her.
“Are you all right?”
She looked at me and asked, concern in her voice.
I simply nodded.
The emblem on her shoulder bore the shape of a white eagle in flight.
It was the insignia of the Imperial Border Guard Knights—the protectors of the empire’s frontier.
“You don’t need to worry anymore,” she said, her voice steady. “The Border Guard is here now.”
