Harry Potter: BE a GOD

Stepping out of the time tunnel once again, Murphy had a moment of reflection.

This was not the first time he had traveled through time, and he had grown so accustomed to this extraordinary affair that he was increasingly proficient at it. The thread of time was becoming more tangible to his senses. Perhaps, he was close to being able to time travel without the aid of a time converter.

Perhaps due to the characteristics of the spiritual realm utilized in time travel, the spatial location where he emerged changed each time. Now, he found himself on a coast with no signposts, yet he recognized the unique chalk geology as the White Cliffs of Dover on the southeast coast of England.

The warm and pleasant sunlight on his face was a welcome comfort after spending so much time in the gloomy, snow-covered forests of Norway.

To advance the "Twilight of the Gods" experiment, he had taken on the guise of Loki. Though he had many tricks up his sleeve to ensure his safety, playing roles with a group of gods who were professionals at changing their appearances meant he could not relax for a moment. Even though he often avoided excessive scrutiny through time jumps, he still felt incredibly drained.

However, the sacrifices were worth the results.

Firstly, the Twilight of the Gods experiment was a complete success. He gained insights into how to guide a large "ritual" based on "stories" and "legends."

He had learned some patterns of faith, mastering how to manipulate deities through weaving "stories"—a natural flaw in the deities' faith system, which they could do nothing about despite being aware of it.

This would prepare him well for his real plans moving forward.

Secondly, he had collected enough divine power during the Twilight of the Gods.

More than a hundred years before the event, during his scheming with Apollo and Hades, he had conceived of a way to resolve the catastrophe of deities—by imprisoning and restricting the gods with their own divine power.

The versatility of divine power was too great. External means of restraining deities, like the God Cage he had used in past wars with the gods, could be gradually undermined by the deities due to various minor flaws or imperfections.

Only a mutual lock constructed from their own power could control them effectively.

After over a century of adjustments, he had finalized his plan, the most crucial prerequisite being the accumulation of sufficient divine power to fund the initial phase.

Murphy looked toward the distant east and put on a golden ring on his right hand.

Instantly, he felt the presence of a mass of metal imbued with infinite power sleeping in the mud at the bottom of the Rhine, thousands of kilometers away.

Whenever he wished, he could control that mass of gold through the ring on his hand, reshape it, and unleash power sufficient to destroy a divine realm.

Yes, there were two Nibelungen Rings.

Both were crafted from magical gold—one could absorb and automatically transform divine power, even evolving its own magic metal properties to accommodate divine offices, thus significantly increasing the power of its bearer.

But it was merely an endpoint.

The real control over the Nibelungen Ring was always in the ring Murphy wore.

However, collecting divine power was not the sole purpose behind the creation of the Nibelungen Ring.

His other objective was to use the Twilight of the Gods ritual to bless and validate the existence of Rhinegold.

He had implanted the concept of Rhinegold into the legends, making it a core element of the Twilight of the Gods ritual. Thus, what was originally just ordinary magical gold was transformed by Murphy's fabricated lies into a mythic substance capable of influencing the world.

The gold now sleeping in the riverbed mud had become the most powerful magical carrier in this world.

It would become the core material for the prison meant for the gods.

Feeling the surging magical power from afar, Murphy quietly suppressed the urge to retrieve the gold right now.

The time was not yet right; some groundwork still needed to be laid.

With that thought, he reluctantly removed the ring and teleported to the edge of a cliff.

His memory suggested this was where Camelot once stood, but now, instead of a formidable castle, there was a camp sprawled across the hillside with countless tents and a wooden stake fence that resembled a military encampment more than anything.

Murphy's arrival immediately attracted attention, and although a few soldiers hesitated, none dared approach him.

Murphy surveyed the camp and was struck by the variety of non-human intelligent species he saw, including fairies, centaurs, and satyrs.

What surprised him even more was the proportion of wizards here.

In his magical vision, over half of the humans in the camp radiated with the glow of magic, not just those who appeared to be wizards, but even the blacksmiths, and women kneeling by the stream washing clothes—they were all wizards.

This was a gathering place for wizards.

While he was looking around, an officer approached and reached

 for Murphy's shoulder, who deftly dodged.

"Wizard! Whose man are you? What are you doing here? Return to your post!"

Murphy looked perplexed at the officer, "My post?"

The officer became suspicious, scrutinizing Murphy, "Who are you? I've never seen you before."

Drawing his sword, which Murphy noted was made of magical metal, the officer pointed it at him while the soldiers behind him drew their weapons, ready for battle.

"State your identity!" the officer demanded. "Or I will treat you as a spy!"

Murphy hesitated, knowing he could easily overcome them, but he was intrigued by the camp and did not want to start off on a hostile note.

His hesitation, however, was taken as a lack of a legitimate identity, prompting the officer to shout, "Seize him!"

As the officer moved to apprehend Murphy, it seemed a conflict was inevitable as the camp appeared to be on high alert.

Murphy was about to use invisibility to escape when suddenly, a ragged, lame man rushed forward, shielding Murphy behind him, "Stop, stop! He's one of us, under the service of Merlin!"

The officer's sword almost struck the man but stopped just in time, eyeing the newcomer, he barked, "Merlin Wilt, do you vouch for this man?!"

"Yes, he's a new wizard brother I invited to serve Lord Merlin."

The officer, still suspicious, walked away, and Merlin Wilt pulled Murphy aside, whispering, "Whatever rumors brought you here, they are false. Leave before Merlin finds you. This is not a sanctuary for wizards, and Merlin is no savior of wizards; he is a warlord just like those Christians hunting us, he is just…"

His words cut off abruptly as a large hand made of branches and vines grabbed Merlin Wilt by the neck from behind, lifting him up.

A young wizard in a feathered robe stepped forward.

"Merlin Wilt, I warned you, speak ill of me behind my back again, and I will kill you."

"You've already lost a leg for it."

"But sadly, it seems you haven't learned your lesson."

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