Stepping out of the tunnel of time once more, Murphy felt a moment of emotion.
This was already who knew how many times he had traveled through time, so much so that he had begun to grow used to this extraordinary thing.
He was becoming more and more practiced at time travel, and had gradually grasped certain things. That thread of time was drawing ever closer to a tangible existence in his perception. Perhaps the day when he could travel through time without relying on the Time-Turner was not far off.
Perhaps because time travel made use of certain properties of the spirit world, every time he traveled through time, his spatial position would change as well. The place where he appeared again now was a coastline. Though there were no road signs, Murphy still recognized the unique chalk geology here as the White Cliffs of Dover in southeastern England.
Warm, gentle sunlight fell across his face, letting him, who had spent so long in the snow-covered, gloomy forests of Norway, feel a long-lost ease.
To advance the "Ragnarok" experiment, he had taken on the guise of Loki. Although he had no shortage of trump cards to ensure his own safety, acting opposite a group of gods who were professionals at changing identities left no room for even a moment's slack. Even though he often avoided excessive probing through time jumps, he still felt utterly exhausted.
But compared to what he had gained, all these efforts had been worth it.
First, the Ragnarok experiment had achieved complete success. He had gained some insight into how to guide a large-scale "ritual" built on a foundation of "stories" and "legends."
He had already grasped some of the laws of faith and learned how to manipulate gods by weaving "stories." This was a