Harry Potter: BE a GOD

Murphy did not flee. He had already grasped the current situation.

If measured by the Gregorian calendar, it was around 400 AD. Many things were happening on this land of Great Britain.

First, two hundred years ago, the Huns, who were driven to desperation by the mysterious Eastern ancient kingdom, migrated westward, leading to Europe being nearly overrun by them. Even though they couldn't defeat the Eastern kingdom, the Huns' combat prowess was enough to crush all European tribes.

Whether the Alans or the Goths, all were quickly defeated under the Huns' powerful onslaught. To survive, these Germanic peoples were forced to migrate west, ultimately leading to the fall of the Holy Roman Empire due to barbarian invasions.

As a result, the Romans, who had ruled Britain for nearly five centuries, had to withdraw from this remote province, granting the Britons freedom and the right to "self-defense."

With the rulers' departure, the Christian faith, which had gained absolute dominance during colonization, faced new challenges. As military forces rose across Britain, the indigenous polytheistic beliefs, once suppressed by Christianity, resurfaced.

Meanwhile, migrating Germanic tribes (Jutes, Angles, Saxons, etc.) and some Greeks and Romans defeated by the Germans fled to the British Isles, bringing their gods with them.

Now, on this land, gods from various pantheons coexisted: the Christian God, the Celtic Tuatha Dé Danann, the Norse Æsir from the Jutes, and the Olympian gods from the Greeks and Romans. This made the place extremely lively and chaotic, with gods constantly vying for dominion over the land's faith.

This chaos of gods was precisely the stage Murphy needed.

Soon, more than a dozen godchildren surrounded Murphy. They were offspring of indigenous British deities, mostly from the Tuatha Dé Danann. Murphy recognized a giant carrying a large cauldron; from Merlin's memories, he knew this giant's power came from Dagda, the chief of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Another figure, a robust man with a spear, was Cú Chulainn, a descendant of the sun god Lugh.

There were also other godchildren from more ancient primal worship, many with unique appearances, including those with animal and plant traits, like the forest deity descendants with antlers and fur or the ocean deity descendants with fins on their backs and arms.

The godchildren seemed to regard Cú Chulainn as their leader. He had short golden hair but a peculiar face, with one sunken eye and one protruding, and each hand had seven fingers. He glanced at Merlin's charred head on the ground and laughed.

As he laughed, his beard and hair bristled, his body swelled, and his mouth gaped open. His eyes continuously spawned pupils, emitting a frenzied and violent aura.

This was his battle stance, known for uncontrollable rage and unparalleled combat strength.

As the battle was about to erupt, a horn sounded from the distance.

The clear sky suddenly gathered thick clouds, the wind roared, and sand flew. The sun stained the clouds a fiery red, like boiling lava.

The horn sounded from the fiery clouds above, and pure white feathers fell like snowflakes.

"Angels!" someone screamed in terror.

This scene was evidently not the first time it had occurred. The godchildren exchanged fearful glances, except for Cú Chulainn, who continued to laugh maniacally. His spear shone brightly and was hurled into the sky.

The spear pierced the atmosphere like a missile, shattering the clouds and revealing the scene above.

Under the blazing sun, countless winged angels swarmed like locusts, almost obscuring the sunlight.

"Ríg, watch him!" Cú Chulainn commanded the giant beside him before leaping into the clouds. The other godchildren followed, each deploying their powers to battle the descending angel army.

The giant Ríg set down his cauldron and sat on it, his eyes fixed on Murphy. "You stay put. Cú Chulainn told me to watch you."

Murphy smiled and indeed remained seated, finding a bench to sit on.

The Christian forces were currently the strongest on this land. Murphy was interested to see the angels' combat abilities.

However, the angel army was not the only attacking force. On the ground, a cavalry unit bearing the cross banner charged forward, shouting holy names and launching an assault on the camp.

The camp's soldiers grabbed their weapons, preparing to defend, while the wizards began casting spells, engaging in divination, curses, and blessings. Few, however, managed to cast any potent offensive spells.

The cavalry broke through the camp's defenses with their first charge, creating a breach and attempting to pierce through the entire camp like a sharp sword.

In the sky, Cú Chulainn and the other godchildren were engaged in a fierce battle. The frenzied son of Lugh was in a terrifying berserk state, his limbs twisted and deformed, growing extra arms and legs, showcasing immense power. He tore angels apart with ease, and the sky was filled with falling corpses and blood rain.

But there were simply too many angels. Even though each one was no more powerful than a flying ordinary soldier, and mainly used spear-throwing attacks, they were overwhelming in numbers.

Murphy noticed that some angels did not join the battle but formed a ring, holding horns and seemingly performing some ritual.

As more angels and humans fell in battle, the four horn-blowing angels simultaneously sounded their horns again.

Four beams of light descended from the high heavens, converging on the central angels of each ring.

The flesh of these angels was stripped away in the light, condensing into six-winged forms. They radiated boundless light, their halos and wings seemingly made of pure light. The power within their towering forms was as potent as that of true gods, extremely dangerous.

Archangels.

In Merlin's memory, these were the formidable leaders of the angel army, usually requiring over ten godchildren to repel just one. Now, there were four of them.

As Murphy observed them, the attack began.

One archangel transformed into a beam of light and lunged at a hawk-headed godchild. As it approached, it materialized, its light wings morphing into claws that ensnared the godchild. Simultaneously, another archangel appeared behind the godchild, drawing a massive sword to decapitate it.

A spear intercepted the sword just in time, saving the godchild from beheading.

But there were four archangels. Cú Chulainn could save one but not all. Soon, the third archangel used a binding spell on an ocean deity godchild, who was then pierced through the heart by an arrow from the fourth archangel.

Cú Chulainn struggled, but the archangels' coordinated and diverse attacks, combined with their immense magic, suppressed the godchildren. In no time, several godchildren were fatally injured.

Whenever a godchild was injured, their companions brought them to the giant Ríg, who tossed them into his cauldron. The cauldron had extraordinary healing powers; Murphy watched the severely injured ocean deity godchild's heart wound heal rapidly.

But the godchildren were getting injured too quickly. The cauldron was soon filled with six or seven godchildren, some chopped into pieces, making it uncertain if they could be saved.

The battle was turning increasingly unfavorable. On the ground, the cross-bearing cavalry had breached the camp's defenses and were preparing a second charge. The camp's soldiers were fragmented and chaotic, unable to mount effective resistance. Defeat was inevitable.

In the sky, the godchildren were nearing exhaustion. Two more godchildren perished in moments, their bodies utterly destroyed, leaving only scattered blood and flesh.

In the end, only Cú Chulainn continued to struggle.

He had lost an arm and a leg, his torso riddled with holes, blood spilling profusely. His boundless rage kept him moving, but he was clearly nearing his end.

It was a futile fight; anyone could see his impending death.

"Cú Chulainn... everyone…" Giant Ríg wept, his massive face smeared with snot and tears. His cauldron's magic was nearly depleted. If Cú Chulainn fell, he couldn't save his friend, and everyone here would die.

"Dagda, almighty father..."

"Great Lugh, undefeated sun god…"

"Save us…"

Ríg knelt and prayed to distant deities, as did many soldiers and wizards in the camp.

In this divine proxy war, defeat was certain. Their only hope for survival was divine intervention.

But a voice shattered their hopes.

"Don't waste your effort."

Murphy stood up at some point. "The angels' individual combat power is limited. They've gathered so many to form a magical barrier, isolating this place with divine power. Your gods can't hear your prayers."

"Your gods haven't shown up despite the prolonged disconnection. Either they're too oblivious to notice, or they don't want to risk falling into a trap to save you."

"Either way, your fate is sealed."

"Wah… Father… Wah… Cú Chulainn…" Ríg sobbed even harder.

Tsk.

This big guy seemed rather dim-witted.

With no one to respond, Murphy continued, "But fortunately, I'm here. Giant Ríg, do you want to save your friends?"

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