I became a god through archaeology in the Wizarding World.

Deep within the mass grave stands a massive black stone tower, shaped like the head of a monster.

That's a special incinerator for necromancy.

Unlike ordinary flames used by mortals to burn trash, the flames burning here are corpse fires made from a mixture of corpse oil and inferior magic stone powder.

The flames, a disturbing, ghastly green, howled in the night wind, casting shadowy reflections on the surrounding twisted black thorn bushes.

The air was filled with the acrid smell of burning grease, and a chilling, magical radiance that seemed to penetrate to the very bone.

Rod pushed the wheelbarrow and stopped in front of the open feed inlet of the incinerator.

The heat wave hit us, but it also carried a biting chill.

The surroundings were deathly silent, with only the occasional crackling sounds coming from inside the furnace.

Rod stopped what he was doing, closed his eyes, and stood still for three seconds.

The danger perception radar granted to him by the [Iron-Beaked Raven] gene in his mind is operating at full power.

Within a 50-meter radius, there was no heartbeat, no breathing, and no stinging sensation of being watched.

This is the dirtiest corner of the academy, a place even ghouls avoid, as it's filled with highly concentrated magical pollution.

"Safe." Rhodes opened his eyes, his movements instantly becoming nimble.

He lifted the black cloth and threw the first three ordinary homeless corpses into the green sea of ​​fire like firewood.

The flames instantly engulfed the flesh, sizzling as they did so.

In the end, only the body of the royal guard remained.

Rhodes didn't throw it in directly.

He pulled out a slightly worn-out chisel from his tool bag at his waist, his eyes instantly becoming focused.

"Based on the distribution of livor mortis and the degree of rigor mortis, the time of death is no more than six hours."

Rhodes pressed his fingers against the corpse's abdomen, feeling its hardness and coldness: "There's a slight bulge in the stomach; I hope my guess is correct."

Without the slightest hesitation, he precisely sliced ​​the scalpel into the upper abdomen of the corpse, below the xiphoid process.

snort~

A dull thud of flesh separating from skin rang out.

As an experienced surgeon, Rhodes's familiarity with human anatomy even surpassed that of his necromancy mentors.

He doesn't need large, destructive cuts; a tiny incision is enough.

The blade avoided the ribs, cut through the peritoneum, and precisely located the stomach.

A nauseating, sour stench mixed with the smell of blood wafted out, but Rhodes didn't even flinch.

He reached his hand into the incision, feeling around through the stomach wall.

Soft, viscous...

Suddenly, my fingertip touched a hard, foreign object.

Ring-shaped with a metallic texture.

"Found it."

A smile appeared on Rod's lips.

He quickly cut open the stomach wall, and with two fingers like iron clamps, he pulled the thing out from the pile of undigested food residue and stomach acid.

By the pale green light of the incinerator, Rhodes could see the item in his hand.

It was a heavy gold ring.

Although the surface of the ring had been slightly corroded by stomach acid and become somewhat dull, the intricate relief was still clearly visible: a roaring lion standing on a wreath of thorns.

The Lionheart emblem of the Plantagenet dynasty's royal guard.

The moment Rhodes touched the ring, the dormant "Species Atlas" in his mind suddenly vibrated.

The book didn't turn to a new species page; instead, a line of dark red text appeared on the cover, like some kind of warning.

High concentration of vengeful spirit residue detected

[Item: Lionheart Signet Ring]

[Status: Cursed Medium]

[Description: This ring carries the wearer's extreme anger and resentment before death. Although its biological genes cannot be extracted, this resentment is enough to serve as a locating beacon for some kind of necromancy.]

"Location beacon?"

Rhodes felt a chill run down his spine.

This means that although the necromancers haven't found the ring, if it's left exposed for an extended period or taken to an area with magical monitoring, it's very likely that a third-ring archmage of Mortimer's caliber would sense it.

This is a hot potato.

But at the same time, it is also a talisman.

As long as the ring remains, it proves the necromancer's crime of murdering a member of the royal family.

"You can't bring it back to the dorm, and you can't carry it on your person."

Rhodes pulled out a piece of lead sheet that he had prepared beforehand from his pocket. This was the wrapping paper used to wrap inferior magic stones, which could effectively block magic radiation.

He wiped the filth off the ring and wrapped it tightly in three layers of lead sheeting until the encyclopedia stopped vibrating as a warning.

Then, Rod turned around and kicked the corpse, whose abdomen had been cut open, into the incinerator.

"boom!"

Green flames suddenly erupted, instantly engulfing the unfortunate guard.

All the wounds, all the marks, were reduced to ashes in the intense heat of the corpse fire.

Rhodes stood at the furnace opening, watching the body completely carbonize until it became a pile of unrecognizable ashes.

"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes."

He muttered something to himself, then turned and walked toward an abandoned wall on the side of the incinerator.

This wall is an old building from decades ago, which has cracked due to foundation subsidence, and the cracks are filled with black moss and mud.

Rod went to the corner and counted to the third blue brick.

This brick looks no different from the surrounding ones, but when he came here to scout the area before, he found that the inside of the brick was hollow.

He used a chisel to pry open the blue brick, stuffed the ring wrapped in lead into the cavity inside the brick, then filled it with soil, sprinkled some dust on it, and finally transplanted a piece of moss to cover the gap.

After doing all this, Rod stepped back two paces and examined the area carefully.

Perfect.

In this mass grave filled with the aura of death and chaotic magical fluctuations, no one would notice that a secret hidden in a broken brick wall is enough to overturn the academy.

"The most dangerous place is the safest place."

Rod dusted off his hands, his eyes deep and thoughtful.

Now we have the evidence, we have the leverage.

Next, it's just a matter of waiting for the right moment to detonate this bomb, or... sell it for a good price.

He pushed the empty wheelbarrow again, and with the creaking of the wheels, he slowly walked into the thick fog of the night.