I became a god through archaeology in the Wizarding World.

The underground laboratory was still brightly lit, and the exhaust fan made a monotonous and dull sound.

Rhodes sat in front of the microscope, observing the nerve tissue on the slices.

That was a specimen he had taken from the body of a heavily armored giant crab.

Even after a weak electric current was applied, this grayish-white ganglion remained remarkably active, even attempting to corrode the slide by secreting some kind of acidic substance.

"Its nerve conduction speed is three times faster than that of ordinary crustaceans, and it also has a certain regenerative ability."

Rod was recording data in his notebook, the pen tip making a rustling sound as it scratched across the paper.

Although we won last night's battle, it also exposed the flaws in our weapons.

Thunderstorm dust lacks the penetrating power to penetrate creatures with thick, insulated shells; concussion mines operate on a limited frequency and cannot instantly destroy all the internal organs of such resilient creatures.

He put down his pen and turned to walk towards the lab bench.

There was a row of new reagent bottles there.

He grabbed a bottle of dark red liquid, an adhesive extracted from salamander glands.

"If 15 percent sticky salamander extract is added to thunderstorm dust, the dust will adhere to the target surface at the moment of explosion, and the continuous discharge time can be extended to five seconds."

Rhodes muttered to himself as he made the necessary adjustments.

Next came the shock mines.

He picked up a screwdriver, disassembled the mine's casing, and revealed the rune array inside.

"If a single frequency doesn't work, then let's switch to a double oscillation." Rhodes used a carving knife to carve a set of tiny runes on the edge of the iron plate. "The first low-frequency wave shatters the carapace structure, and the second high-frequency wave acts directly on the soft tissue. Although the cost will increase by twenty percent, the lethality rate can be increased to ninety percent."

Just as Rhodes was engrossed in calculating the efficiency of the killing, the laboratory door was pushed open.

Benjamin strode in, his face showing barely concealed anxiety.

"Mr. Rhodes, something has happened."

Without turning his head, Rhodes continued adjusting the rune circuits: "If it's a rise in raw material prices, then go to the finance minister and negotiate using the wartime requisition order."

"It's not about money." Benjamin wiped the sweat from his brow. "It's about the church. Bishop Cecil of the Radiant Cathedral just went to the city hall, accompanied by several high-ranking officers of the city guard."

Rhodes paused, put down his carving knife, and turned around: "What did they do?"

"They announced that the sea monsters that attacked the port were not natural creatures, but filthy beings tainted by the abyss." Benjamin swallowed hard. "Bishop Cecil claimed that ordinary physical attacks could not completely kill these monsters, and even if they stopped breathing, the filth within them would contaminate the souls of those who came into contact with them, ultimately causing the soldiers to mutate."

"They offered a solution?" Rhodes asked.

"Yes." Benjamin pulled a small crystal bottle, no bigger than a thumb, from his pocket. It contained a golden, oily liquid. "This is holy oil. The Church claims that only by applying this oil, purified by holy water and blessed by bishops, to weapons can the source of defilement be completely eradicated, protecting soldiers from corruption."

Rod took the crystal bottle and uncorked it.

A faint smell of sulfur mixed with the fragrance of flowers wafted out.

He didn't speak, but turned around and dripped a drop of holy oil onto the still-wriggling crab ganglion on the slide.

Nourishes—

A wisp of very faint black smoke rose, the ganglion twitched violently a few times, then stopped moving, and its color changed from grayish-white to a deathly black.

"It really works," Rhodes said calmly.

Benjamin's face darkened further: "The commander of the city guard has been persuaded. The church has offered to supply the army with holy oil at a price of five silver coins per bottle. More importantly, they are demanding that a chaplain be placed in each centurion to oversee the use of the holy oil and the post-battle purification rites."

This is a blatant power grab.

By monopolizing necessities, the church can not only seize huge sums of military funds, but also extend its reach directly into the army's grassroots command system.

Once the chaplain arrives, the soldiers will no longer obey the orders of their superiors, but rather the will of God.

"Did the city hall agree?" Rod shook the crystal bottle in his hand.

"We're still hesitating, after all, it's a huge expense. But many soldiers at the front have developed fever and delirium after handling corpses, panic is spreading, and the commanders are under a lot of pressure."

Rhodes let out a soft chuckle.

The so-called fever and delirium are nothing more than the neurotoxins in the bodily fluids of the Deep Ones' retinue, or stress reactions after intense combat.

However, under the church's propaganda, this became irrefutable evidence of defilement and corruption.

"Mr. Rhodes, if the military purchases holy oil in large quantities, our funding for thunderstorm dust and concussion mines will definitely be cut," Benjamin said worriedly. "Moreover, the Church has suggested that alchemical weapons are soulless inanimate objects, unable to bear the power of holy light, and advised the military to reduce its purchases."

"Open conspiracy".

Rhodes threw the crystal bottle back to Benjamin.

He walked to a corner of the lab bench, where various chemical reagents were piled up.

"The effects of the holy oil you just saw are actually not magical."

As he spoke, he quickly grabbed several materials.

"The base ingredients are olive oil, with added sunflower extract and a small amount of...holy water. The so-called purification effect is due to the sunflower's strong yang properties, which can neutralize the residual yin magic in deep-sea creatures. As for that little bit of holy water, it's more of a psychological comfort."

Rhodes poured the mixed liquid into a beaker and then added a little silver nitrate powder.

The liquid instantly turned into the same golden color as the holy oil.

"The cost of this thing is probably three copper coins," Rod said indifferently.

Benjamin's eyes widened: "Then we..."

“We don’t sell holy oil,” Rod interrupted him. “That’s the Church’s domain. Competing with them in that field will get you labeled a heretic.”

Rod picked up the modified thunderstorm dust.

"The church says physical attacks can't eradicate defilement? Then let them see what physical purification is."

"High temperature is the best way to purify all filth."

Rod wrote down a new recipe on a piece of paper.

"Benjamin, notify the factory to cease production of ordinary thunderstorm dust. The new product will be renamed Purifying Thunder. We will add magnesium powder and white phosphorus to the dust."

Benjamin gasped.

Magnesium powder and white phosphorus are both extremely dangerous combustible materials.

"When the purifying lightning detonates, in addition to the electric shock, it will also generate a temperature of over two thousand degrees Celsius," Rhodes said expressionlessly. "At this temperature, flesh, bones, and even the so-called foul odor will be instantly carbonized."

"Since the church says soldiers will get infected handling corpses, then burn them to ashes. I think no filth can survive in a flame of two thousand degrees."

Rhodes handed the recipe to Benjamin.

"Also, go tell Sieg to take me to the city hall. Since the church is selling holy oil, I'll sell my services instead."

"Service?" Benjamin was a little confused by Rhodes's train of thought.

"Yes." Rhodes straightened his cuffs, his eyes deep. "The Church's holy oil can only be applied to melee weapons. But our weapons are consumables. I will propose to the city hall that, in order to cooperate with the Church's purification operation, every single one of our concussion mines and thunderstorm dust can be industrially enchanted in advance."

"Industrialized enchanting?"

"It's just a matter of engraving a sun rune on the outer shell and then soaking it in this sunflower extract." Rhodes pointed to the golden liquid. "The cost increases by five copper coins, and the selling price increases by fifty copper coins. We can claim that this is a highly effective purified weapon refined through alchemy, requiring no on-site operation by the accompanying chaplain; the soldiers can use it right away."

Benjamin opened his mouth wide, speechless for a long time.

This is undermining the church's foundation. The church wants to send people into the army, arguing that the holy oil needs prayer and oversight.

However, if the weapon itself has a purification attribute, then a priest is not needed.

Moreover, Rhodes did not deny the existence of filth; instead, he followed the church's logic and launched a more convenient product.

"But...would the church recognize this kind of enchantment?" Benjamin asked worriedly.

"They have to admit it." Rhodes picked up his cane and walked towards the door, "because I'll demonstrate it in front of all the generals. The purification effect of two thousand degrees Celsius combined with sunflower extract is far more spectacular than their thin layer of oil."

"No one in this world understands purification better than me."

Rhodes pushed open the laboratory door.

The carriage sped through the rainy night, heading towards the power center of Plymouth.