30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 52

In the Department of Metallurgy, Instructor Hans Schmidt.

In the Department of Fine Arts, Lecturer Dorothy.

Cam from the Department of Statistics.

Den from the Department of Architecture.

Professor Alain de Wagner from the Department of History.

These were esteemed faculty members within the Academy, renowned individuals or even those who had reached the level of masters.

Yet, here they were, not just anywhere, but in the extraterritorial area known as the Parasite Abyss.

A place even elite soldiers were hesitant to enter, and yet they strolled in boldly?

And such prominent figures, no less?

This alone was evidence enough that something suspicious was afoot.

However.

"Wa-Wait a moment! There's a misunderstanding here! I think there's been a mix-up, so let’s talk this out...!"

"Yes, that's right, Sir Turtle! Let's resolve this through conversation! This is all a big misunderstanding!"

"Ahem, this fellow has a short temper, you see, we also have our reasons—."

Thunk!

"Ugh...."

With a thud, the architectural giant, Den, fell to his knees.

A poisoned dart—a common weapon among assassins—was lodged in his chest.

The dart had hit him squarely, causing him to collapse and cough up blood.

"I smeared it with a goblin’s miscellaneous poisons. You know how those are, right? It’s a blend of all sorts of toxins, making it tough to detoxify. It’s bound to hurt."

"W-What on earth are you doing?!"

Throwing poisoned darts without a word—what kind of audacious behavior was this?!

They were genuinely furious...

"—Hah, how did you find out?"

A dull hum filled the air as he unleashed his mana, accompanied by a mocking grin.

Unlike Irene Windler’s beautiful, wave-like mana, his was a murky, sewage-like hue.

But it was still mana, after all.

...It was also a hue characteristic of the forbidden mages, those who had forsaken human decency.

Fwoosh!

The dart melted away without a trace.

Den had already burned off the poison with his mana.

"Damn, that's strong!"

But goblin poison was notorious.

Even though he had tried to cleanse it, the mixture of filth left his body barely able to stand.

If it weren’t for his mana, it would’ve been unbearable.

"How dare you, you lowly knight...!"

Gone was the pleasant smile, replaced now by a look of sheer contempt from the five of them.

Despite the seething glares, Ihan remained impassive.

No, rather, his demeanor had grown even colder, to the point of being menacing.

Hans felt a chill, his body twitching with unease, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself not to show it.

"How did you find out?"

"About what?"

"Our identities, how did you know?"

"Is that really what you’re curious about right now?"

"Call it a scholar's thirst for knowledge."

"Scholar's thirst, my ass. You’re nothing but plague-spreading vermin."

"......"

Without a trace of humor, but with a fire in his eyes, Ihan mocked them.

"Brain-dead pests, you thought you could exploit people without getting caught?"

"......"

"So, you had fun making that fool Oddwal dance to your tune? You dumbasses think you’re smart, huh? Oh, is that rude? My bad, I shouldn’t compare you to imbeciles—they’re smarter and kinder than you’ll ever be. Compared to you, even maggots are more useful, and you’re filthier than any rapist. No comparison can do you justice."

"...I’ll never let you live."

"Y’all aren't even kobolds, so why do you keep yapping like mutts?"

"!!"

Huff!

Any further words were useless, and they pulled out their staffs, ready to punish the insolent "creature" that dared insult them!

But.

Slash!

"Who do you think you’re pointing at, you wretched bastard?"

Splurt!

"Argh!"

Lacking even basic manners, Hans’s wrist was sliced clean off by an axe.

If one were to ask when he noticed something was off about them, he would say:

"I knew from the start"—they were just that stupid.

"[Blow, O Crimson Wind of the North!]."

Dorothy—no, the woman only wearing Dorothy’s "skin" had no scent of paint or graphite on her fingertips.

A renowned artist should naturally carry the scent of their atelier, but there was only the stench of rot.

Did she seriously expect anyone to believe she was a painter?

Ridiculous.

Whoosh!

The blade-like wind whipped toward Ihan, but he charged forward without a care.

A magic that could cleave through flesh as easily as butter.

Stab!

"Ugh!"

"Brush your teeth, you reek."

Crunch!

No blade could harm his body.

Unscathed, he crushed the mage's jaw in his grip, ensuring she would only be able to consume soup from now on.

If she survived, that is.

"L-Lenny!"

"Was that her name? So where’s the real Dorothy?"

"How dare you lay your filthy hands on her!"

"Fine, have her back."

The mage’s body was hurled towards them.

They attempted to catch her with telekinesis, but, regrettably...

Thunk!

"!!?"

"You insane bastard!"

Ihan’s sword pierced through her belly, then through another mage’s throat.

"Guh—!"

Splatter!

Den of the Architecture Department.

For someone said to be a great master, he lacked any semblance of dignity.

A true master wouldn’t have such soft hands, either.

If you’re going to disguise yourself, at least do it right.

"[Stab! Sharper, more viciously!]."

"[Spread, fire! Burn hot, ignite like molten lava!]."

The incantations were more like screams.

These fools—no one in their right mind uses magic when a knight is this close.

Thud!

Ihan's hand-axe buried itself in the center of Cam’s chest.

Supposedly a prodigy of the Statistics Department, rumored to have caught the royal family’s attention, but he reeked of narcotics.

No brain in that skull of his.

"[Fire—].

One of them tried to finish his incantation, but.

"━Shut up━!"

With a roar louder than a lion’s, the incantation was cut off.

The Parasite Abyss.