I became a god through archaeology in the Wizarding World.

As the first rays of dawn pierced the thin mist over the capital, a slender hand slowly drew back the curtains of the luxurious suite on the top floor of the History Department building.

Rhodes didn't sleep, or rather, on a night like this, dancing on the edge of a knife, sleep was a luxurious waste.

He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, still clutching the shard of the water glass he had crushed the night before, his fingertips gently rubbing the sharp edge, using the pain to stay awake.

The view in the distance confirmed his plans from the previous night.

The morning bells had not yet rung, but the atmosphere in the North Campus of Royal Academy was already quite different.

The area around the necromancer tower, which used to be deathly quiet with only crows circling around, now has a striking new sight.

Dozens of armed men in dark gray uniforms, without any academy badges, set up roadblocks at the main intersection leading to the Necromancer Department under the pretext of road maintenance.

Although they were disguised as cleaners and road workers, their air of authority and the bulging weapon pouches at their waists clearly indicated that they were elite military police under the command of the Iron Duke.

"You're quick, Colonel Vance."

Rhode watched as a wagon attempting to transport alchemical materials into the Necromancer's sanitation department was rudely stopped by the cleaners, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

The letter he gave Vance last night was like a piece of raw, bloody meat, which thoroughly enraged the Iron Duke, that fierce tiger.

The military doesn't need solid evidence to prosecute a third-ringed wizard; they just need an excuse to flex their muscles.

Cutting off supplies is tantamount to strangling the necromancy faction, which relies heavily on corpses and preservation materials.

Mortimer is probably having a tough time right now.

She has to deal with the military's obstruction, guard against the royal family's secret investigation, and be blackmailed by Rod because of a non-existent ring.

"The chaos has been created; now it's time to exploit it."

Rod turned around, threw the shards of glass in his hand into the trash can, and put on a clean teaching assistant robe.

He straightened his collar, practiced a gentle and non-threatening smile in front of the mirror, and then walked out of the room.

……

History Department Office.

"Rhodes! Look at this! It's an absolute miracle!"

As soon as I opened the door, Professor Isaac's energetic voice came to my face.

The old professor was hunched over a huge drawing table, waving a roll of parchment that had just been printed, as excited as a child who had discovered a new continent.

"Look at the structural diagrams of these underground armories! The arrangement of these load-bearing columns perfectly conforms to the mechanical principles of mortal engineering! What does this prove? It proves that those massive structures don't need magical levitation at all; they stand upright using mechanical power!"

Rhodes smiled and walked over, taking the drawings and pretending to look at them: "Your discoveries are always so groundbreaking, Professor. This will be the headline of the next issue of Truth Weekly."

"Of course!"

Professor Isaac smugly picked up his teacup, his daily morning pickle for waking him up: "Those wizards always look down on the wisdom of mortals. Once we dig up that prototype... cough cough..."

The professor took a large gulp of tea, then suddenly coughed violently, his brow furrowing. "Strange, why is today's tea a bit pungent..."

Rhodes's eyes narrowed instantly.

Deep within his mind, the danger-sensing radar granted by the Ironbeak Raven emitted an extremely faint but sharp, piercing alarm the moment the professor picked up his teacup.

It's not targeting him, it's targeting the professor.

"Smelly?"

Rod stepped forward calmly and took the teacup from the professor's hand: "The tea leaves may have gotten damp, Professor. The ground is quite damp lately, let me get you a fresh cup."

He turned his back, brought the teacup close to his nose, and took a gentle sniff.

His past life as a surgeon, and his present life as a history teaching assistant, have given him an intimate knowledge of the tastes, properties, and effects of various medicines.

Beneath the seemingly normal herbal scent, there was a faint, cloyingly sweet odor.

That's the spore powder of the Nightmare Mushroom, a slow-acting hallucinogen. Long-term use can gradually weaken a person's mental state, cause hallucinations, and even make them more susceptible to suggestion and manipulation.

A cold glint flashed in Rhodes' eyes.

It was most likely Mortimer's doing.

Although the old man was restrained by the military and the royal family and dared not directly attack Rhodes, he did not give up.

He wants to control Professor Isaac!

The professor was drugged into a state of mental instability and then tricked into revealing secrets about the ring or something else.

If the professor says something he shouldn't during his hallucination, Mortimer can bypass Rhodes and take the initiative directly.

"That rat is like a persistent ghost."

A murderous intent surged within Rod. He walked to the sink by the window, poured out the spiked tea, and then took out a new tin of tea from his locker and brewed a fresh cup.

"Professor, your tea."

Rhodes placed a steaming cup of fresh tea on the table and said with concern, "Things haven't been peaceful outside lately. There seems to be some trouble in the necromancy department, with many strange people loitering around. For safety's sake, it's best if I personally prepare your meals from now on."

"Oh? Something's happened in the Necromancer department?"

Professor Isaac took the teacup and waved it off nonchalantly. "Who cares! As long as they don't interfere with our excavation. By the way, Rhodes, we need to speed things up. I feel like we're only a wall away from the core!"

Seeing the professor's complete lack of vigilance, Rhodes had already made up his mind.

Since Mortimer wants to play dirty tricks, then don't blame him for making things even more muddy.

Rod walked to the corner of the office, where a mute servant was cleaning.

Those were the royal family's informants planted in the history department, and also the liaison between Rhodes and the king.

Rhodes pretended to tidy up the bookshelf, his back to the professor, and said in a very low voice to the servant, "Tell them that Mortimer is getting anxious."

The servant paused slightly as he wiped the vase.

Rod pulled a small packet from his sleeve; it was a small amount of leftover tea stains that he had deliberately picked up with a handkerchief when he poured the tea.

He quietly slipped the handkerchief into a thick history book and placed it within easy reach of the servant.

"He poisoned the professor. It was a drug used to lower his mental resistance, making it easier to initiate the soul sacrifice ritual."

Rhodes' voice was calm and resolute: "The sacrificial circle that Mortimer inscribed underground requires intense resentment and specific soul fluctuations to activate. He was trying to control the Professor, not just for intelligence, but also to use the Professor as... a sacrifice."

"The military's blockade prevented him from obtaining offerings from the outside, so he began to target those within."

Rhodes turned to look at the servant, a sense of urgency in his eyes: "If we don't act quickly, the excavation will come to a complete standstill if something happens to the professor. At that point, what His Majesty desires... will likely become Mortimer's medium for summoning the evil god."

The servant remained expressionless, but Rhodes saw him use the act of moving books to quickly tuck the poisoned handkerchief into his pocket.

The message has been sent.

Rhodes turned his head and looked out the window at the necromancer tower that was blocked by the army in the distance. A faint smile appeared on his lips.

Mortimer wants to use drugs to control the professor?

Narod then told the king that this was a sign that Mortimer was preparing for a blood sacrifice.

In the eyes of the royal family, any act involving sacrifice or evil gods is an absolute red line.

Coupled with the lie Rhodes fabricated about the royal guards being sacrificed, this poisoned handkerchief will be the last straw that breaks the camel's back.

"professor."

Rod walked to the desk, looked at the old man who was working hard, and said softly, "Today's assessment is about to begin. After I finish the assessment, we'll speed up the excavation."