I became a god through archaeology in the Wizarding World.

The night was as dark as ink, shrouding the history building in a somber silence.

Rhodes, who was preparing to go underground to help the professor at the agreed time, had just stepped onto the stone steps in front of the building.

Then, he stopped at the doorway.

Deep within the building's shadow, a crimson flame flickered on and off.

Colonel Vance emerged from the darkness, a burning cigar between his fingers, his hawk-like eyes coldly fixed on Rhodes through the smoke.

Behind him stood a black carriage, unmarked but pulled by four armored warhorses.

"You're back very late, Rhodes."

Vance's voice was hoarse, with a commanding tone: "The Duke wants to see you, now."

Rhodes' heart skipped a beat.

"This is not a request."

Vance flicked his cigar away, sparks arcing through the night sky: "That's an order. Also, congratulations on your outstanding performance in the assessment. His Excellency the Duke is always exceptionally lenient towards beasts."

Rhodes was silent for two seconds, then a smile that was a mixture of greed and ambition appeared on his lips.

"Since it is His Excellency the Duke's invitation, it is my honor."

He knew this was a trap.

But he knew even better that if he refused now, the sword at Vance's waist would be drawn immediately.

……

The Iron Duke's mansion is located in the military control zone of the capital. Unlike the mysterious academy, everything here exudes a cold, steely aura.

The towering walls were covered with barbs, and the patrolling guards wore heavy plate armor; even their breathing was perfectly synchronized.

There were no magical lamps here, only braziers burning whale oil, which illuminated the enormous castle like a war fortress.

Rod was led into a spacious, somewhat empty restaurant.

At the far end of the long, black iron dining table sat a man as imposing as a mountain.

He wasn't wearing aristocratic formal attire, but rather a simple military shirt, revealing muscular arms covered in crisscrossing scars.

Balthazar, the Iron Duke of the Plantagenet dynasty, and the supreme commander of the mortal army.

On the plate in front of him was a rare, bloody steak.

"sit."

The Iron Duke didn't look up; his knife and fork cut into the beef, making a teeth-grinding scraping sound.

Rod pulled out a chair and sat down, with the same steak in front of him.

"I heard you went berserk in the arena, smashing the bones of a prospective wizard?"

The Duke put a piece of dripping beef into his mouth, chewing as he asked indistinctly.

Those gray eyes suddenly lifted, staring intently at Rhodes, as if trying to see through his disguise.

A terrifying killing intent swept over us.

This is not magical pressure, but pure baleful energy accumulated from countless killings.

If it were an ordinary apprentice, they would probably be trembling with fear right now.

But Rod didn't.

He grabbed his knife and fork, but instead of cutting with the elegance of a nobleman, he crudely plunged them into the meat and began to tear at it, his eating manners even more barbaric than that of the duke.

"He's blocking my way, sir."

Rhodes swallowed a large mouthful of meat, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and his eyes revealed an undisguised ferocity: "In that damned academy, if I didn't bite someone's throat, they would crush my head. I just wanted to live a little better."

"To live a better life?"

The Duke sneered and put down his knife and fork. "Just to live a little better, you killed three of my men in the Misty Forest? Including that idiot Kane?"

The atmosphere froze instantly.

Colonel Vance, standing in the corner, placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Rod paused for a moment, but he neither argued nor panicked.

He raised his head, looked directly at the Duke, and his face showed an expression that was a mixture of disdain and greed: "My lord, if I may be so bold, those were three pieces of trash."

"Kane only wants to use me, and those two thugs don't even have basic vigilance. If I don't kill them, they'll kill me. Do you really think your army will keep cowards who don't even dare to fight back?"

Rhodes leaned forward, his voice low, tinged with a gambler's fervor: "Besides, I survived. Isn't a living genius who has awakened his bloodline power more valuable than three dead pieces of trash?"

"Hahaha!"

The Iron Duke suddenly burst into laughter, the sound so loud it made the wine glasses on the table tremble.

"Good! Well said! This good-for-nothing deserves to die!"

The murderous intent in the Duke's eyes subsided somewhat, replaced by an appreciation for his fellow human.

In his view, Rhodes's personality of advocating violence, despising rules, and using any means necessary to survive was exactly to his liking.

He preferred this pure beast to those wizards who talked nonsense all day long and spouted truths.

"You are greedy, Rhodes." The Duke's smile faded, and he leaned back. "But greed requires resources. What makes you think I'll keep you alive? Just your newly awakened brute strength?"

The test is here.

Rhodes knew that what he said next would determine his life or death.

He had to demonstrate sufficient value, but not appear too clever, lest he arouse the Duke's suspicion.

"It's not just about brute force, sir."

Rhodes put down his knife and fork, took out the crystal card Benjamin had given him from his pocket, and fiddled with it in his hand, his eyes revealing a desire for money: "Although I'm just a stonemason in the history department, I have very sharp ears. I know you've been targeting the necromancy department lately, and I also know that old devil Mortimer hates you to the bone."

"So what?" the Duke said dismissively.

"Mortimer is a treacherous villain."

Rhodes lowered his voice, a mysterious glint in his eyes: "While I was disposing of his body, I overheard something I shouldn't have. He not only wanted to intercept your letters, he was also collecting... echoes."

"Echo?" The Duke frowned.

"Yes, the Necromancers have a secret technique that can extract fragments of the deceased's memories from their soul fragments."

Rhodes began his carefully crafted lie, a lie based on the undeniable power of necromancy, yet impossible to verify: "Mortimer is collecting the bodies of those who died in accidents but served you. He claims that once enough fragments are gathered, he can piece together a complete chain of evidence to prove that you issued certain special orders, and then submit it to the Starry Sky Council."

"He wants to prove that you are violating the Human Protection Act and that you are assassinating wizards."

boom!

The Duke slammed his fist on the table, creating a dent in the hard black iron surface.

"That damn gravedigger!"

The Duke's face was ashen. He had indeed done a lot of dirty work, and many of his men had indeed mysteriously disappeared or died.

If Mortimer can really extract memories from corpses... that would be a huge problem for him.

Rhodes observed the Duke's expression and secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He made the right bet. For someone in a high position who has shady dealings, the worst thing is for their past misdeeds to be brought up again.

"My lord, I have no interest in academic research; I am only interested in power and magic stones."

Rhodes opportunely offered his loyalty, his tone tinged with a hint of mercenary shrewdness: "I can keep an eye on Mortimer for you. I'm a teaching assistant in the history department and a rising star in the bloodline department. I have access to many places your people can't get into. As long as the price is right... I'll be a thorn in your side of the academy."

"I will notify you immediately if Mortimer makes any unusual moves or finds any key bodies."

The Duke stared at Rhodes for a long time.

In his eyes, Rhodes at this moment was a typical nouveau riche who was blinded by power, greedy and without any bottom line.

Although such people are despicable, they are the most useful tools as long as they are given enough benefits.

Moreover, Rhodes' current identity is indeed perfect.

"very good."

The Duke picked up his knife and fork again and cut off a piece of meat: "Vans, give him a special pass. From now on, any intelligence he sends should be delivered directly to my desk."

Colonel Vance stepped forward and tossed a black iron token to Rhodes.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

Rhodes grabbed the token, his face beaming with undisguised elation, as if it were not a piece of iron but a mountain of gold.

"Get out of here." The Duke waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away a fly. "Don't disappoint me. If Mortimer actually produces any evidence, I'll chop you up and feed you to the dogs first."

"Yes, sir."

Rhodes stood up, gave an awkward bow, then grabbed the half-eaten bread from the table, stuffed it into his mouth, and strode out of the restaurant.

Only after Rhodes's figure disappeared did Vance ask in a low voice, "My lord, do you really believe him?"

"Believe? Of course not."

The Duke sneered, a cold glint in his eyes: "He's just a greedy wild dog. But right now, this dog is biting Mortimer, and that's enough. We can deal with this dog after the Necromancers fall."

……

Stepping out of the Duke's mansion, a cold wind blew past, and Rhodes felt a chill run down his spine.

Every word and every expression I just made was a test on the edge of a precipice.

If the Duke had asked even a single more question about the details of the echo, or had any doubts about the greed he had displayed, tonight would have been his death night.

Fortunately, arrogance blinded the Duke.

Rhodes touched the black iron token in his arms, and the smile on his lips gradually faded, turning cold and profound.

"A nail?"

He glanced back at the brightly lit steel castle.

"I will be a nail. But the one driven into your coffin lid."

Rhodes pulled his cloak tighter and quickly disappeared into the night.