I became a god through archaeology in the Wizarding World.

Salty, torrential rain washed over the ruins of the Necropolis Tower. Black plumes of smoke were lowered by the rain, and the stench of burning and the smell of the sea permeated the streets.

The heavy clatter of hooves shattered the rubble and stones scattered on the ground.

A squad of military police cavalry, clad in black plate armor and fully armed, roughly pushed aside the outer ruins and forcibly cleared a passage.

Balthazar, mounted on a heavily armored warhorse, looked down at the three men standing in the center of the ruins.

Behind him, dozens of soldiers armed with heavy crossbows quickly dispersed, taking up high ground, their cold arrows locking onto every corner of the ruins.

The Duke's gaze swept over the pale-faced Professor Isaac, lingered on Sieg's charred and withered left arm, and finally landed on Rhodes, who seemed unharmed except for being somewhat disheveled.

"Where's Mortimer?" The Iron Duke's voice pierced through the rain.

Rhodes wiped the rain off his face, took a step forward, and stood in front of Sieg and the professor.

He pointed to the huge, acidic crater behind him.

"He's there, Your Grace."

Luo De said calmly, "Or rather, he was there. To activate that bio-beacon, he threw himself into the alchemical pool as his last fuel. The green slime you see now is all the traces he left behind."

The Iron Duke frowned and dismounted.

The armored boots made a dull thud as they stepped through the mud.

He walked to the edge of the pit, glanced at the remaining dark green liquid inside, and the huge, melting flesh and blood tissue scattered around.

The nauseating necromantic remnants couldn't be faked; a high-intensity biomass transformation and explosion had indeed occurred here.

"Self-destruction?"

The Duke turned around, his grey eyes fixed on Rhodes: "A third-ring necromancer, in his own lair, facing intruders who weren't even formal wizards, chose to self-destruct? Do you think I'd believe such a fairy tale?"

A terrifying killing intent enveloped Rhodes.

The Iron Duke didn't care how Mortimer died; what he cared about was what was inside the Necropolis.

That is forbidden knowledge that can create plagues, and even knowledge that is not limited to plagues.

If these things fall into the hands of an uncontrolled person, they will pose a new threat to him.

Rhodes did not avoid the Duke's gaze. He took out the stack of selected parchment manuscripts from his pocket, but did not hand them over immediately. Instead, he held them in his hand.

"He didn't self-destruct to fight us; he did it to complete a ritual."

Rhodes explained, "That beacon required the flesh and blood of a high-level spellcaster as a fuse. When we breached the gate, he knew it was all over, so he chose the final step. As for why we survived..."

Rhodes turned to look at Sig, who was leaning against the broken wall.

"It was because Lord Sigurd severed Mortimer's magical connection with the magic circle using the Killing Nail, causing the ritual to go out of control and prematurely triggering the collapse."

The Iron Duke looked at Sieg.

Sieg was in extremely poor condition. Although the decay in his left arm was suppressed by the medicine, the deathly aura was still eroding his life force.

Sieg nodded expressionlessly, meeting the Duke's scrutinizing gaze.

He raised his intact right hand, pointed at Rhodes, then at the deep pit, making a confirmation gesture.

The doubt in the Duke's eyes lessened somewhat.

Sieg is the king's shadow and an absolute royalist.

Since Sieg testified, it means that what Rhodes said was true, or at least the "truth" that the king was willing to accept.

Moreover, Sieg's crippled arm was enough to prove how fierce the battle was.

If Mortimer were truly that easy to deal with, the Royal Assassin wouldn't have paid such a price.

"Where is it?" the Duke asked, holding out his hand.

Rhodes handed over the parchment.

"These are some of the manuscripts we salvaged from the console. They record the cultivation process and mutation data of the Corpse Spores, as well as... drafts of letters between Mortimer and certain forces in the Western Sea."

The Duke took the manuscript and glanced through it briefly.

The dense alchemical formulas and biological diagrams on the screen gave him a headache, but he understood the words about storm algae and the deep sea.

This is exactly the evidence he needs.

With these, Mortimer can be definitively labeled a traitor, making the purge of the Necromancer faction legitimate.

"very good."

The Duke rolled up the manuscript and tucked it into the lining of his arm guard.

He gave Rhodes a deep look: "You're quite pragmatic, Rhodes. Remember who you are now."

Just then, the sound of rapid hoofbeats came from the other end of the street.

A carriage bearing the royal crest stopped outside the ruins.

Several royal mages dressed in dark blue robes walked briskly, surrounded by guards.

Leading the group was a middle-aged monk with a goatee. He was the deputy head of the royal monastic community and also a special envoy sent by the king.

"Your Majesty the Duke."

The envoy bowed slightly, but his gaze swept past the Duke, greedily surveying the ruins: "His Majesty heard that the tower had collapsed and specially sent me to receive Mortimer's belongings to prevent a second spread of the undead plague."

The Iron Duke snorted coldly, said nothing, but patted the manuscript at his waist, indicating that he had obtained the key evidence.

The envoy's expression stiffened for a moment, then he turned to Rhodes and Sieg.

"Lord Sig, your injuries require immediate treatment." The envoy waved for the healing mage behind him to step forward, then looked at Rhodes: "Mr. Rhodes, His Majesty has instructed me to inquire whether there have been any other discoveries besides these? For example... Mortimer's core research notes, or some kind of special magical item?"

Rhodes' heart skipped a beat.

The king was indeed not only after the plague was over; he also coveted the power Mortimer possessed.

A hint of regret and exhaustion appeared on Rod's face as he spread his hands, revealing his empty belt and leather armor pockets.

"I'm sorry, Your Excellency."

Rhodes pointed to the deep pit: "Mortimer destroyed most of the data at the last moment. The only things we could salvage were the parts about the plague cure that the Duke had. As for the rest... they all melted into the acid along with the monster's collapse."

The envoy frowned, clearly dissatisfied with the answer.

He raised his staff and released a [Detect Magic] spell.

Pale blue ripples swept across Rod's entire body.

Apart from the few unused bottles of silence potion in Rhodes's arms and the enchanted dagger bestowed upon him by the royal family at his waist, no strong high-level magical reaction was detected.

The fossilized heart of the ancient siren was sealed in a specially made lead box, which Rhode then kept close to his body in an alchemically treated isolation bag, perfectly shielding it from magical fluctuations.

As for the core manuscript about soul stripping and biological modification, Rhodes stuffed it into the lining of his boot; it was his true trophy, kept for himself.

The envoy reluctantly scanned the ruins several more times, but found nothing except the lingering aura of the dead and traces of acid corrosion.

"It seems Mortimer really is a madman, preferring to destroy rather than leave anything for others."

The envoy sighed and accepted the reality.

After all, Sieg was also present. If Rhodes had hidden away any conspicuous large items, it would have been impossible to hide them from the eyes of the assassin leader.

As for why Sieg didn't expose Rod's possible underhanded tactics?

Rhodes glanced at Sig, who was receiving treatment.

In the previous battle, Rhodes used the memory crystal to interfere with the giant and save Sigurd's life.

For those who walk on the edge of a knife, this is a silent contract.

Moreover, Rhodes did indeed solve the source of the plague and fulfill the king's mission.

Under this premise, the distribution of even a small amount of spoils is, in Sieg's view, a privilege reserved for the strong.

"Now that the source has been cut off, the next step is to clean it up."

The envoy reverted to his bureaucratic tone: "Mr. Rhodes, in view of your outstanding performance in this crisis and the great contribution of the silencing agent you developed to the kingdom, His Majesty has decreed..."

Rhodes lowered his head slightly, gesturing to listen attentively.

"Rhodes Griffin, effective immediately, is granted the title of 'Royal Honorary Scholar' and will enjoy the benefits of an earl. At the same time, the History Department's underground laboratory has been designated as a Royal First-Class Restricted Area, and you will be fully responsible for the subsequent production of potions and... the research on certain remaining issues."

The envoy paused, then emphasized, "His Majesty hopes you will remain in the capital and at the academy. After all, it would be a loss for the kingdom if someone of your talent were to go elsewhere."

Rhodes sneered inwardly.

Being an honorary scholar sounds glamorous, but it's actually a golden shackle.

The king was telling him: You are useful, but also very suspicious. I give you status and money, but you must operate under my watchful eye. That underground laboratory is both your territory and your prison.

But that's exactly what Rhodes needs.

He needed time to process that heart, time to study that soul manuscript, and even more time to crack the control core of the underground legion.

Being confined to an underground laboratory with its own independent defense system and resources was, in fact, the safest protection for him.

"Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty."

Rhodes bowed, his voice sincere: "I will do everything in my power to serve the kingdom."

The rain was still falling, but the salty, fishy smell seemed to have faded a bit.

With the collapse of the Necropolis and the destruction of the beacon, the gloom that had hung over the capital began to dissipate.

On the streets, military police and church pastors began a large-scale cleanup operation.

The silencing agent was mass-produced and sprayed in every corner of the city.

The corpses, which could have exploded at any moment, were petrified and piled up for incineration.

Despite the heavy losses and the fact that the lower city was almost a wasteland, the capital city survived.

Rhodes, supporting Professor Isaac, followed behind the envoy's group towards the history department building.

He touched the cold lead box on his chest and felt the thickness of the manuscript in his boot.

Mortimer is dead, but his legacy will serve as a stepping stone for Rhodes to reach higher ranks.

"professor."

Rhodes said in a low voice, "When we get back, upgrade the lab's defenses by one level. What we're going to research next... might be a bit noisy."

Professor Isaac paused for a moment, then understood what Rhodes meant.

He glanced at the surrounding ruins and nodded vigorously.

The group disappeared into the rain.