I became a god through archaeology in the Wizarding World.

As night deepened, the dim yellow glow of the gas streetlights spread through the mist, cutting the streets of the capital's lower district into fragments of light and shadow.

Rhodes did not go directly back to his apartment in the university district. Instead, he wandered through several complicated alleyways, and after confirming that he was not followed, he returned to the door of the hidden underground laboratory.

This place is filled with all sorts of prohibited materials and ancient books that cannot be exposed to the light of day.

The air was filled with the smell of old paper and formaldehyde.

Professor Isaac was hunched over a large oak table, holding a high-powered magnifying glass, his face almost pressed against a thick, black-covered book.

This book records various unofficial histories and myths from the First Age. The pages are severely brittle, and each turn requires extreme care.

Hearing the door open, Isaac didn't even look up; he simply adjusted his glasses.

"You've come back just in time, Rhodes. Take a look at this."

The professor's voice trembled slightly, a tremor that was hard to conceal, a tremor unique to scholars when they discover the truth.

Rod took off his coat, which was damp with the chill of the outside air, hung it on the hanger, and walked to the table.

Isaac pointed to an illustration in the bottom right corner of the book.

It was a hand-drawn badge, depicting an eyeless raven entwined around a skull, its lines twisted and eerie, exuding an unsettling chill.

"What is this?" Rod asked.

"The sigil of the Valen family." Isaac looked up, his bloodshot eyes gleaming. "In First Age documents, they were called the family of mediums. It's a very ancient and mysterious lineage; they are said to be born with the ability to communicate with the spirit world and even directly manipulate the wavelengths of souls."

Rhodes frowned, pulled up a chair, and sat down. "What does this have to do with our research?"

"It's very important."

Isaac stood up and pulled a drawing from a pile of messy documents next to him.

That was Rhodes's reconstruction of Mortimer's core architecture diagram of biological beacons from memory.

The professor placed the illustration of the family crest alongside the structural diagram.

"You mentioned before that Mortimer's biobeacon experiences highly unstable energy overflow upon activation, leading to receptor collapse. We've always thought it was a problem with the energy source or insufficient precision of the alchemical array."

Isaac drew a line between the two drawings with his finger.

"But look here. The core frequency receiver of the beacon, this complex runic structure, is not actually standard universal alchemical language, but a variant of ancient Hermes. I consulted a lot of materials and finally confirmed the meaning of this rune—'Valen's Whisper'."

Rhodes's gaze froze.

He quickly drew upon his knowledge of alchemy and mysticism.

"You mean, the monster Mortimer created, the so-called beacon, is actually a locked box?" Rhodes calmly analyzed, "and the key to opening this box isn't some kind of spell or magic, but rather the unique soul frequency of the Valen family?"

"To be precise, it's a biometric key."

Isaac corrected him: "Mortimer obviously knew that. He tried to control the beacon by forcibly simulating that frequency, but he failed. Because the wavelength of a soul, like a fingerprint, cannot be perfectly copied. Without a descendant of the Valen family as a repeater or controller, that beacon was a bomb that could explode at any moment."

Rod was silent for a moment, then tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

This explains a lot of things.

Why did Mortimer collect corpses so frantically? Why did he choose to sacrifice himself in his final experiment?

He may have attempted to force a fusion by consuming some material with Valen blood, which resulted in him going out of control.

This also means that the document that the Lightforged family and the military are currently fighting over is actually incomplete.

Without the key, even if they built the beacon, it would just be a pile of uncontrollable rotten flesh.

"Is the Valen family still around?" Rhodes asked.

"That's the most interesting part."

Isaac closed the ancient book, a mysterious smile on his face: "According to official records, the Valen family was completely wiped out by the Church during the witch hunts of the Second Age. But I found some interesting records in the registers of the Lower City."

The professor pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket, on which was copied a brief record of a property transfer.

"About fifty years ago, a fallen nobleman named Victor Varen bought an abandoned manor on the edge of the lower town. Although he soon changed his surname to Victor Lowell, he kept the family crest as decoration for the manor. That crest, although the skull was removed, still had the eyeless raven."

"Lowell..." Rod murmured, savoring the name. "Where is that manor?"

"On the banks of the Blackwater River, near the abandoned textile factory area," Isaac replied. "The locals call it Whispering Manor because no one lives there year-round, yet strange noises always emanate from it at night."

Rhodes stood up and walked to the window.

Through the gaps in the heavy curtains, he looked out at the dark night sky.

That direction leads to the edge of the lower city, the most chaotic and uncontrolled area in the capital.

If the descendants of the Warren family are indeed hiding there, then they themselves are a huge treasure.

For Rhodes, this was more than just the key to controlling biobeacons.

The [Abyssal Dragon] skeleton and [Ancient Siren] genes within his body have always been in a delicate balance, a balance that is extremely fragile.

If he could get help from the Valen family, who are skilled in soul modulation, or analyze their bloodline talents, he might be able to find a way to perfectly fuse these two powers, and even start the next stage of evolution.

"I'm going there." Rhodes turned around, his tone calm but firm.

"Now?" Isaac asked, somewhat surprised. "That's the most dangerous place in the lower city, and it's the middle of the night."

"It is precisely because it is late at night that it is suitable to visit those nobles who do not want to be in the light of day."

Rod walked to a corner of the laboratory and opened a black metal cabinet.

Inside hung a black trench coat without any markings, and a white mask that only covered the upper half of the face.

He skillfully changed into his gear, tucking two short-barreled shotguns loaded with alchemical bullets into the holsters on his waist, and stuffing several bottles of different colored potions into the inside pocket of his trench coat.

"If I don't come back..." Rhodes adjusted his gloves and looked at Isaac: "Burn all the data here, then go to the Bloodline Academy to find Instructor Galon."

"Don't say such unlucky things." Isaac sighed and sat back down at the table. "Good luck."

……

Half an hour later, Rhodes appeared on the banks of the Blackwater River.

The air here is even more polluted than in the city center, filled with the smell of rotting mud and the pungent odor of industrial wastewater.

The river flowed silently in the darkness, like a thick, black grease.

Following a weed-covered path along the riverbank, Rhodes saw the legendary Whispering Manor.

It's less of a manor and more of a dilapidated castle.

Half of the towering wall has collapsed, revealing the withered courtyard inside.

The main building is a three-story Gothic building with a spire that pierces the night sky. Most of the windows are boarded up, and only a very faint candlelight shines from a corner on the third floor.

Rod did not use the main entrance.

He activated [Danger Sense], and after confirming that there were no magical traps around, he silently scaled the wall like a nimble black cat.

The weeds in the courtyard were half a person tall, covering the original path.

The soil beneath my feet was soft and damp, and I could vaguely feel some extremely subtle vibrations coming from underground.

This kind of vibration is not physical, but spiritual.

It was as if countless people were whispering in my ear, the sounds noisy and chaotic, making me feel uneasy.

Rhodes stopped, took out a bottle of pale purple mental stabilizing potion from his pocket, and drank half of it.

The noise in my mind instantly diminished.

"It really is here."

Rod wiped his mouth, his gaze sharpening.

This level of mental interference would cause ordinary people to hallucinate or even go insane simply by getting close to it.

This is a natural defense mechanism and proof of the power of the Valen family bloodline.

He crouched low, using the shadows of the bushes to quickly approach the main building.

Just as he was about to touch the rusty iron door of the main building, his movements suddenly stopped.

[Danger Perception] is frantically alarming in his mind.

It doesn't come from the front, but from under your feet.

Without any hesitation, Rod tensed his leg muscles and launched himself backward.

"boom!"

The ground where he was standing suddenly exploded.

Several pale, translucent spikes made of spirits burst from the ground, emitting a mournful shriek in the air.

If he had been half a second later, those spikes would have pierced the soles of his feet, pinning his soul to the spot.

Rhodes adjusted his posture in mid-air and landed steadily on a broken wall five meters away.

He drew his short-barreled shotgun from his waist, the dark muzzle pointing towards the main building's entrance.

"Now that we have guests, is this how the Lowell family treats them?"

Rod's voice echoed in the empty courtyard, calm, indifferent, and without the slightest hint of panic.

After a brief silence.

The main building's doors creaked and groaned as they slowly opened inward.

An elderly woman with gray hair, dressed in a black maid's long dress, stood expressionless behind the door, carrying a lantern.

Her eyes were cloudy and lifeless, like two gray glass beads, staring straight at Rhodes.

"The master said that only thieves and ghosts visit in the dead of night."

The old woman's voice was dry and hoarse, like two bones rubbing together: "Which one are you?"

"I'm here to discuss business."

Rhodes lowered the muzzle of his gun, but his finger remained on the trigger: "About a key, and a forgotten surname."

The old woman's eyelids twitched slightly.

She stepped aside, making way for a passage into the depths of darkness.

"Come in. But if you can't say anything that will interest the master, you'll become the manor's new fertilizer."