Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

After the afternoon classes ended, the four of them gathered again at the Room of Requirement.

Avery and Alex were sparring. Avery's Iron Mantra could now last for about two minutes. The silver barrier rippled in the air, with some fluctuations at the edges, but it was basically formed.

Alex's petrification spell struck it, exploding into white sparks, and the barrier merely trembled.

"Again!" Avery shouted.

Alex repeated, "Petrify them all."

This time, the spell's trajectory went astray, grazing the edge of the barrier and striking the wooden dummy behind it. The dummy's chest turned gray, but quickly returned to normal.

Avery removed the Ironclad Spell and wiped the sweat from his brow: "See, I managed to hold them off."

"Hmm." Alex nodded, his expression serious. "But Hermes' dark magic..."

Last week, Hermes tried it once with a weakened version of Bone and Blood Stripping, and Avery's barrier shattered into light spots in less than three seconds.

Avery looked to the other side of the room.

Hermes was sitting cross-legged on the ground, with an old book open in front of him, his fingers tracing some kind of complex pattern on the pages.

He felt the gaze, looked up, and gave a forced smile.

"Want to give it a try?" Hermes asked.

Avery shook his head: "Let me practice some more."

He knew the difference between himself and Hermes, and he also knew the difference between Hermes and Regulus.

The difference was so great that it was puzzling.

Are they really in the same school, taking the same courses?

Does the Black family possess some special bloodline power that allows first-graders to master magic that even adult wizards struggle with?

Regulus ignored the conversation and was instructing Alex on the Ironclad Charm.

"You must think about blocking it in your mind," Regulus said. "Simply chanting spells is useless; you must truly generate the thought of refusing to be harmed, and the magic will follow your will."

Alex gripped his wand tightly, closed his eyes, and frowned.

He chanted a spell, and a silver light appeared at the tip of his staff, but the halo only lasted for two seconds before dissipating, without even forming the shape of a barrier.

"I...I've thought about it." Alex opened his eyes, his tone a little dejected.

"Think more specifically," Regulus continued to instruct, "Imagine a spell is really flying towards you, and you have to protect yourself; that sense of urgency."

Alex tried again, and this time the silver light lasted for a second longer, expanding slightly at the edges, but quickly collapsed again.

Avery watched from the side without saying a word.

He knew he hadn't had this much trouble learning the Ironclad Spell; his father had forced him to practice for five days, eight hours a day, until his wrists swelled up.

But thankfully, the barrier was formed on the fifth night.

The process was painful, but the result was clear: he was able to use it.

Alex's talent was somewhat lacking, or rather, something in his personality hindered the development of magic.

He was too cautious and too prone to self-doubt. The thought of "I might not be able to do it" would impurity into the magic when casting a spell, making the spell's structure fragile.

But Alex listened to Regulus, who told him to keep practicing, so he raised his wand and chanted the spell over and over again, even though the result was the same each time.

This kind of persistence is also a talent, but it's a personality trait and has nothing to do with the Ironclad Spell, though it might blossom in some spell.

After arranging for them to practice individually, Regulus walked to the other side of the room; it was time for him to practice his own.

After the space warp spell was finalized, progress was faster than expected.

Regulus raised his wand and aimed it at the stone platform five meters away.

He didn't need to chant any spells; with a thought, magic flowed out from his wand.

The air around the stone platform began to distort, and the spatial structure changed.

In spatial perception, the space within a half-meter radius of the stone platform is as if being kneaded by an invisible hand, with the lines of latitude and longitude bending, folding, and then unfolding.

This process was extremely fast; in the blink of an eye, the stone platform had disappeared and reappeared at the corner of the wall twenty meters away.

The landing point was precise; the edge of the stone platform was exactly two inches from the wall gap. Any more and it would hit the wall; any less and the position would not be straight.

Regulus went over to check and found that the surface temperature of the stone platform was normal, there was no heat generated by friction, and there was no residual magic power commonly seen in spatial transfer.

This indicates that the folding process is smooth enough that the object is not subjected to additional stress when passing through the folds in space.

He continued testing.

The distance was increased to fifty meters; this time, the goal was to transport the thick book from the wooden table to the top shelf of the weapons rack at the other end of the training room.

The wand rose, then fell.

The book vanished from the tabletop and reappeared at the top of the weapon rack in the same instant, spine facing outwards, standing steadily.

One hundred meters, this time it's that table.

The training room wasn't long enough, so Regulus had the Room of Requirement expanded, moving the wall at the far end back fifty meters.

The table disappeared and reappeared on an open ground a hundred meters away, with all four legs touching the ground simultaneously, without even a wobbling.

The maximum size limit for objects has also been increased.

On larger scales, such as the human body, it is theoretically feasible, but Regulus has not yet tried it.

The risks of living beings traversing space are far greater than those of inanimate objects. If the spatial folds fluctuate even slightly during the traversal, what might be transmitted is a pile of minced meat.

He stood in the center of the training room, looking at the table in the distance, and a new idea popped into his mind.

Can the Spatial Anchor Point Spell be combined with Spatial Warp?

Currently, space warp has a significant drawback: it can only teleport objects that are not magically connected.

He tried teleportation spells, such as a disarming spell.

When the spell beam passes through the spatial channel created by the warp, the internal magical structure and spatial folds interfere with each other, causing a collision between two different types of magic.

The result was that the spell exploded in mid-air, turning into a cloud of meaningless magical fragments.

Regulus wondered, what if the spatial structure of that area could be fixed in place by a spatial anchoring spell the instant the warp tunnel was formed?

The essence of the Spatial Anchoring Charm is stability. It can drive magical nails into a selected area, pinning space in place and resisting external distortion and tearing.

This stability typically applies to static spaces, such as preventing enemies from apparating and escaping, or protecting an area from spatial magic.

But what if we anchor the point in a space that is changing?

For example, the brief passage generated by spatial warp exists for an extremely short time, perhaps only 0.1 seconds, but within that 0.1 seconds, the spatial structure is in a highly unstable state.

At this point, inserting anchor points to forcibly fix the shape of the passage might allow the spell to pass safely.

The theory holds true, but practice is another matter.

Regulus spent two days trying, and the first day was a complete failure.

He first used spatial warp to fill in the spatial anchor point the moment the passage was formed, but the magic of the two spells clashed. As soon as the anchor point was inserted, the passage collapsed, and the warp also failed.

The teleported object got stuck halfway, half in the real world and half trapped in a spatial rift. He had to use a lot of effort to retrieve it.

The next day, the order was adjusted: first, anchor points were pre-buried, and then the warp jump was initiated within the anchor point range.

The passage stabilized this time, but the anchor point's stability was too dominant, locking down the flexible folds needed for warp jumps as well.

The passage was opened, but objects couldn't pass through. The spatial structure was as hard as a steel plate, and things bounced back when they hit it.

On the third day, he found a compromise. He simultaneously manipulated two spells, ensuring that the stabilizing effect of the anchor point only applied to the inner wall of the passage, leaving a flexible path in the center.

This requires splitting the magic into two streams: one to maintain the generation of the warp folds, and the other to control the range of the anchor point. The two streams must also not interfere with each other.

On the seventeenth attempt, finally, a red light from a disarming spell pierced through the passage and landed on the wooden dummy opposite.

But the results were very poor.

After the spell passes through the passage, its power is reduced to only one-tenth of its original strength.

The red light thinned, leaving only a shallow mark on the wooden figure's chest, without even splintering any wood chips.

Using magical perception analysis, it was discovered that the spell was diluted during the journey.

While the stabilizing effect of the spatial anchor point protected the passage, it also filtered out most of the magic in the spell, leaving only a gentle ball of light that did not cause any actual harm.

However, compared to the previous method of simply shattering the object, this is already an improvement.

Regulus continues to be optimized.

He discovered the problem lay in the strength of the anchor points.

If the anchor point is too strong, it will also destabilize the magic of the spell, resulting in meaningless light being transmitted.

The anchor point was too weak and couldn't stabilize the passage, causing the spell to explode halfway through.

We need to find a critical point that just stabilizes the space without interfering with the magic.

This requires extremely precise control.

Regulus must determine the stability threshold of the channel at the moment of casting the spell, and then fine-tune the magic output of the anchor point.

Not a point more, not a point less.

On the fourth night, he finally managed to get an obstacle spell through the passage completely.

The spell landed at the feet of the wooden dummy, causing a small bump to rise on the stone slab, with an effect essentially the same as casting it directly.

But Regulus paid the price of mental exhaustion.

Simultaneously controlling two high-level spatial spells and adjusting parameters in real time is more exhausting than simply suppressing the Fiery Spell.

Suppressing the Fiery Blaze is a form of resistance. When facing a berserk energy entity with its own consciousness, you must use your will to keep it in place. The process is full of tension and counterattacks.

That kind of exhaustion is physical, it's magical, it's like wrestling with an invisible opponent.

The superposition of spatial magic is like weaving, which involves twisting two different or even conflicting magical forces into one, allowing them to work together without canceling each other out.

This requires playing two roles simultaneously, with the brain divided into two independent computing areas.

One component calculates the fold curvature of the deflection, another monitors the stable output of the anchor point, and both need to exchange data in real time and adjust for deviations.

That kind of exhaustion is on a mental level.

But the direction is right.