I became a god through archaeology in the Wizarding World.

When I returned to the ground from the third underground level, it was still dark.

Rhodes removed his leather armor, which was covered in mud and crocodile blood, and put on a clean robe.

Although his body was exhausted from the continuous high-intensity exploration, his spirit was unusually excited.

The genes of the Thunder Frog have been stably fused, and the special vocal sac deep in its throat is vibrating slightly with each breath, giving it a sense of control that allows it to unleash thunder at any moment.

However, when he walked out of the history department building, intending to go to the cafeteria to find something to fill his stomach.

The professor's mute servant stood in the shadows, looking anxious.

Upon seeing Rhodes appear, he immediately handed him a piece of parchment that smelled rancid.

This is intelligence from Rat Alley, and the handwriting is Jack Quicklegs's.

A strange disease has broken out in the lower city; the dead are stiff as iron, their skin turning green. Law enforcement has cordoned off the area, but the bodies... have all disappeared by midnight.

Rhodes looked at the note, and his pupils, which had been somewhat unfocused due to fatigue, instantly focused.

"Stiff as iron, skin green..."

Rhodes sneered and lit the note on the candlelight: "Mortimer, you've finally gotten impatient."

The Iron Duke's blockade cut off the necromancy's source of corpses. In order to maintain his experiments and so-called sacrifices, that old ghost went so far as to create a plague in the slums to harvest fresh corpses.

This method, though crude, is very effective.

The lives of the poor are worthless in the eyes of the powerful and wealthy in the capital. As long as the disease does not spread to the upper city, no one will care how many rats die.

"We must stop the plague quickly, and prevent Mortimer from obtaining more test corpses to increase his strength."

Rod walked to the sink and washed the blood and soot off his face.

His current identity is a history teaching assistant and a bloodline genius, neither of which is suitable for him to be in the plague zone.

But Rhodes has a third face.

Half an hour later, a figure dressed in a black robe and wearing a long-beaked mask resembling a bird's beak silently scaled the high walls of the academy.

That was the standard attire for ancient physicians when dealing with plagues, which could both filter out poisonous gases and conceal their identities.

……

As dawn broke, in the lower city of the capital, in the slums.

This is the festering wound of the capital, with sewage flowing everywhere and shacks crammed together.

At this time of day, this place would normally be filled with the shouts of drunkards and the lewd laughter of prostitutes, but tonight, it is deathly silent.

Only the occasional suppressed cough and the sound of a heavy cart rolling over the stone road could be heard.

Rhodes changed into a jet-black hooded robe and wore a bird-beak mask on his face.

He walked through the muddy alley, the sensation under his feet making him frown.

Several unclaimed corpses lay in the roadside ditch.

Their skin was an eerie emerald green, with bulging veins that spread beneath the skin like tree roots, emitting a faint magical glow.

"Rotten fever".

Rod crouched down next to a corpse and pressed on its abdomen through his gloves.

The internal organs of the corpse had completely liquefied, but the body did not stiffen like an ordinary corpse; instead, it maintained a strange vitality.

"Mortimer, you're insane."

Rhodes stood up, his eyes cold.

The Iron Duke cut off the necromancy's supply of materials, and Mortimer, without fresh corpses and experimental materials, actually turned his attention to these living people.

This putrefaction fever is a modified magical virus that accelerates the death of the living and gives corpses a weak magical conductivity for a short period of time.

For necromancers, this is an excellent low-level consumable that can be used to make stuffing for skeletons or stitched monsters.

Deep in the alley, two furtive figures were carrying a recently deceased corpse and throwing it onto a cart.

They were two low-level necromancy apprentices dressed in tattered gray robes.

"Hurry up! We need to get fifty more tonight!"

One of the apprentices whispered, urging, "Our mentor said if this batch isn't enough, we'll be thrown into the pool!"

"That damned Iron Duke, he made us come to this godforsaken place to scavenge for trash..." another apprentice grumbled.

Rod stood in the shadows, watching them push the cart away.

He didn't take action; killing two apprentices wouldn't solve the problem, and would only alert the enemy.

To completely resolve this problem, or rather, to stir up the waters even more, he needed to borrow an even bigger knife.

Rod turned and went into a shed with a tattered curtain hanging on it.

Inside the house lay a family of three, all of whom had contracted the plague; their skin was green and they had persistent high fevers.

Seeing the man in black wearing a bird-beak mask enter, the still-conscious father desperately grabbed Rod's sleeve: "Doctor...save my child..."

Rod didn't speak. He stretched out his left hand and gently placed his fingertips on the child's forehead.

The Poison Vine Fairy's ability is activated.

He wasn't performing a healing act; he was devouring.

The magical spores that ravaged the children's bodies were deadly poison to ordinary people, but to Rhodes, who possessed the genes to prey on plants, they were a great source of nourishment.

A faint, dark green light flashed and disappeared from my fingertips.

The child's previously contorted face gradually relaxed, the green on his skin faded, and his breathing became steady.

"A miracle...this is a miracle..." The father wept bitterly, wanting to kneel down and kowtow.

"Don't move."

Rod's voice sounded muffled as it was filtered through the mask.

He did not cure the parents.

He simply cured the child, then pulled out a bottle of "holy water" he had bought from the black market.

That was a cheap product used by the Morning Star Church to swindle money, but in Rhodes' hands, it found a new purpose.

He poured the holy water onto his mother's lifeless body, while secretly activating the [Static Skin] within his body.

Zizizi!

The faint electric current instantly activated the light element in the holy water, causing a violent repulsion reaction against the necromantic plague within the corpse.

The body did not decompose; instead, it had a pure white, holy texture, like marble, but black pus and blood with a sulfurous smell oozed from the wounds.

Listen.

Rhodes looked at the surviving father, his voice low and seductive: "This isn't an ordinary illness; it's a curse. Only the light of the morning star can purify it. Take this corpse to the church door and tell them that the devil is eating people."

After saying that, Rod turned and left, disappearing into the night.

He did the same thing, leaving behind several purified corpses with obvious traces of necromancy in different corners of the slums.

……

An hour later, the gilded rose.

Benjamin looked at Rod sitting opposite him, his fat face trembling slightly.

"You mean... the necromancy faction is spreading a plague in the slums? And it's a magical plague?"

Benjamin wiped the cold sweat from his brow: "If this gets out, there will be a riot in Wangdu! My business will be finished!"

"So you need a new ally."

Rhodes toyed with the wine glass in his hand and said calmly, "The Iron Duke has sealed off the necromancy system, but he can't control the rats in the slums. Mortimer is now desperate. The only party that can legitimately intervene here and has the ability to suppress the necromancy plague is one side."

Benjamin's eyes lit up: "The Church of the Morning Star!"

"Bishop Cecil has always wanted to extend his reach into the power center of the capital, but the king and the council have always been wary of him."

Rhodes's lips curled into a cold smile: "Now, the opportunity has arrived. A wicked magical plague targeting civilians is the perfect stage for the Church to demonstrate God's love for humanity. Once they intervene, Mortimer will have to back down, and your business can return to normal."

"and……"

Rhodes lowered his voice: "You can be the sole supplier of purification materials to the church. It's a win-win situation."

Benjamin was a shrewd businessman; he weighed the pros and cons instantly.

"I see."

Benjamin stood up and straightened his collar. "Bishop Cecil happens to be making his rounds at the nearby church tonight. I think he'll be very interested in this news."

……

In the dead of night, the silence of the slum was broken by a series of orderly and heavy footsteps.

Dozens of paladins, clad in silver-white armor and wielding torches and longswords, surged into the filthy lower city like a river of light.

Leading the way was an elderly man dressed in red, holding a scepter.

His face wore an expression of compassion, but his eyes gleamed with excitement.

"The Lord said, 'The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.'"

Bishop Cecil walked up to the body that Rhodes had treated.

By this time, the body was surrounded by terrified poor people.

The bishop gently tapped the corpse with his scepter.

"Buzz!"

A dazzling holy light burst forth.

The necromantic magic remaining in the corpse's wounds emitted a shrill shriek under the stimulation of the holy light, then dissipated into a wisp of black smoke.

"This is dark magic! It's blasphemous sorcery!"

Bishop Cecil turned around, his voice booming and echoing throughout the block: "The evil wizard is experimenting with your lives! But fear not, the Church of Morning Star will protect you!"

"Purify! We must purify!"

At the bishop's command, the paladins rushed into the alley.

They soon ran into the necromancer apprentices who were still moving corpses.

"Halt! Heretic!"

"Damn it! They're mad dogs from the church!"

The necromancer apprentices panicked and tried to summon skeleton soldiers to fight back.

But against a well-trained paladin, this lowly undead creature was instantly chopped to pieces.

"Boom! Boom!"

The holy light blast exploded in the slums, purifying the apprentices who tried to rebel and the source of the plague they created.

Rhodes stood on the high rooftop, looking down at the chaos below.

The firelight reflected off his bird-beak mask, making it look particularly eerie.

The necromancy faction's secret operation has been completely exposed.

The Church of the Morning Star's high-profile intervention not only cut off Mortimer's last source of resources, but also dealt a fatal blow to the Necromancer faction politically.

Now, Mortimer faces not only the Iron Duke's military blockade, but also a religious trial by the Church and a covert investigation by the Royal Family.

The three forces were finally completely annihilated.