Hogwarts: From Selling White Peppers to Becoming a God

Chapter 457 Wasting Resources

Cú Chulainn was being besieged by three archangels whose bodies were extremely hot, and each attack brought waves of heat, making Cú Chulainn feel as if he were facing his father, Rug, the god of light and the sun.

When he hurled his spear with all his might, he only managed to draw some golden blood from his opponent, without causing much damage.

His body was already broken and battered. Even though the pain fueled his anger, his tenacious fighting spirit could not change the fact that he was already exhausted.

A sense of despair rose in his heart.

Just then, the two remaining companions of the divine child in the distance were also shot down by another archangel, who quickly joined the attack on him.

Three archangels surrounded him in the center, their wings of light spreading out to block out any space Cú Chulainn could hide in. Then he saw the last archangel draw a giant bow made of flames and light.

A magical portal locked onto him, and the arrow was aimed at his head, leaving him no way to dodge.

"Ah!!" he roared madly, his body swelling up again in a final struggle.

"Bang!" The arrow was shot out, but the death that Cú Chulainn expected did not come. Instead, the head of the archangel in front of him suddenly exploded, and golden blood, like molten metal, splashed onto his body, burning off large patches of his skin.

But such pain was nothing compared to the change just now. He stared in astonishment at the headless archangel who had lost its light in an instant, revealing a headless humanoid body.

The body resembled a doll sculpted from a molten candle, devoid of texture and detail, merely a human form.

But before he could figure it out, flames ignited on the body again, as if it were reviving.

But at that moment, a figure suddenly appeared beside the headless archangel. He stretched out a hand also wrapped in flames, pressed it down, and the flames in his palm suddenly expanded, engulfing the archangel. Then, he abruptly withdrew the flames, and the archangel disappeared.

Cú Chulainn stared in astonishment at the black-robed youth standing before him, who held a writhing mass of metal in his hand. But as his fingers tightened, the metal gradually calmed and cooled, transforming into a smooth sphere.

Murphy has now basically figured out the structure of these archangels.

They are not individuals with independent will, but rather more like puppets or dolls created with magic.

Against such opponents, mind magic is almost useless, while at the same time, their bodies seem to be made of a liquid magical metal, thus making them immune to most physical attacks.

However, these puppets, which were purely driven by divine power, were no match for the cursed fire that Murphy had preserved from Ragnarok. He simply wrapped them in fire, which absorbed the divine power and stored it in the Rhine Gold through the Nibelungen Ring.

Ignoring the stunned Cú Chulainn, he then molded the remaining three archangels into iron balls. Then, gazing at the vast army of angels, he suddenly transformed into a demon, raised a hand, and summoned storms and thunder.

Supported by its relentless magical power, the countless lightning bolts routed the angelic legion in just a few minutes. More than half of the angels were killed, and the rest fled in panic, clearing the sky.

Seeing this, the few remaining children of the gods stopped pretending to be dead and climbed out of Rig's cauldron to help the camp soldiers and wizards wipe out the Crusader cavalry, thus ending a great calamity.

Murphy looked down at the camp and slowly descended from the sky.

"Satan!" someone in the crowd shouted.

As enemies of Christ, they were somewhat familiar with the image of the devil propagated by Christians, and Murphy's current transformation was remarkably similar to the widely circulated image of the Demon King.

But others shouted out another name, "Merlin!"

Merlin is the son of the British native god Nightmare, whose father's image is sometimes indistinguishable from that of a demon. In Christian prophecy, Merlin is half-demon and half-human, or even the son of a demon.

Murphy regained his original appearance, but he did not say anything to explain as he looked at the many people kneeling on the ground, either out of gratitude for his rescue or because of his appearance.

His reason for taking action against the angelic legion was to make contact with the native British gods, whether as Satan, an enemy of Christ, or Merlin, who belonged to the native gods. These identities would be more conducive to his cooperation with them.

After acquiring Merlin's memories, Murphy had already devised a script in his mind: Britain had now become the stage for the war of the gods, and he needed to help one of them ascend to this stage.

He chose the native gods, because on the one hand, they had irreplaceable local advantages, and on the other hand, their power was the weakest and they were the easiest for Murphy to control.

Of the more than ten divine children, some were killed or wounded in the battle just now, and only five were still able to move. They all looked at Murphy with complicated expressions.

"Thank you, wizard!" Giant Rig didn't have the same thoughts as his companions. Seeing that Murphy had saved his best friend Cú Chulainn, he had already included him among his own.

Hearing Riggs say this, Cú Chulainn felt a little embarrassed, but after all, it was a fact that Riggs had saved him and the entire camp, and that he was incredibly powerful. He was helped to Murphy's side and said, "We were too reckless before. Thank you for your help in getting us through this difficult time. We don't know how to repay this kindness. If there's anything you need us to do, just let us know."

He didn't believe Murphy's actions stemmed from pure goodwill; he simply hoped the other party's demands wouldn't be excessive.

Murphy smiled. It seemed that Cú Chulainn wasn't just a mindless, berserk warrior after all. He thought for a moment, then instead of making a direct request, asked, "I've noticed a lot of wizards gathered in the camp. What are they doing?"

The children of the gods looked at each other, and one of them, with an eagle-headed head, said, "Christianity seems to regard wizards as a threat and hunts them down. We have gathered them together to protect them."

In fact, not only Christians, but almost all spiritual forces now regard wizards as a hidden threat.

Because wizards can "create gods," the earliest gods were actually born from the wizards' imagination.

Over the years, the gods have gained a deeper understanding of themselves and the wizards, and have gradually become aware of this hidden connection.

To the gods, the power of wizards may be weak, but compared to Muggles who cannot use magic, they are an uncontrollable and unstable factor.

"Oh?" Murphy glanced at the ragged and exhausted wizards in the camp. "So you're saying you're doing a charity job?"

Cú Chulainn hesitated for a moment, knowing that Murphy was not easily fooled, so he decided to tell the truth: "That's not entirely true. Wizards can use the power of magic, although it is very weak, but it can still play a role in war. We teach them the alchemy techniques of the fairies so that they can forge weapons for the army."

This is why even a Muggle officer can use weapons made of magic metal.

Murphy sneered, "What a waste! You have so many powerful warriors, yet you send them to be blacksmiths. No wonder they can't even defeat a group of angels."

"You're saying these wizards are powerful warriors?" Cú Chulainn was stunned.

The children of the gods found it unbelievable. Murphy's voice was quite loud, and many wizards in the camp heard it. Although it was good that Murphy spoke up for them, even they thought that Murphy was just bragging.

They know their own situation; casting a spell is so difficult, and its power is not much stronger than the swords of soldiers. To say that wizards are powerful warriors who can even fight angels is simply outrageous.

Rig laughed heartily, "You're mistaken. These wizards can't even beat ordinary soldiers. They're too weak; they can only do these simple jobs and can't go to the battlefield!"

But Murphy remained unmoved, simply looking at the crowd as if they were a bunch of fools.

Rig laughed for a while, then, noticing Murphy's strange expression, finally stopped laughing. "Did I say something wrong?"

Murphy snorted coldly, and suddenly a blazing flame shot up from in front of him, reaching mid-air and transforming into thousands of burning longswords. The tips of the swords pointed at everyone below, enveloping the entire camp under their blades.

The biting cold assaulted everyone's senses. Faced with the flames that could easily annihilate Merlin and the archangel, no one doubted that anyone touched by that longsword would instantly turn to ashes.

"You have all seen my power."

"I am not some divine child, nor am I a god; I am just a wizard."

"I was no different from them, from these wizards, at first."

"Every wizard is a powerful warrior; this is no exaggeration."

"The reason they are so weak right now is simply because they don't know how to use their magic yet; it's because they are missing something."

"That thing is called the Magic Net."

"And I will help you build it."

(End of this chapter)