Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

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Alex's ears turned red, he lowered his head, then raised it again, his eyes sparkling.

Avery nudged him with his elbow, and the two looked at each other. Avery's eyes held a more equal and acknowledging look.

Regulus nodded to himself. Sure enough, when children fight together, their relationship improves the fastest.

Sharing the experience of conflict, especially the feeling of winning, is more effective than a hundred nice words.

He turned to Hermes, but instead of patting him on the shoulder, he simply nodded.

Hermes nodded in response with feigned composure, but his tightly pursed lips betrayed his effort to maintain his expression.

Regulus pulled two small glass bottles from his pocket and tossed them to Avery and Alex. The bottles arced through the air as the two scrambled to catch them.

"White cinnamon essence," Regulus said, "apply it yourself."

Avery unscrewed the bottle, poured out a little clear ointment, and applied it to the corner of his eye. The cool sensation made him squint comfortably.

Alex followed his example and applied the ointment to the bruises on his calves. The ointment worked quickly, and the purplish-red color under the skin visibly faded.

This little matter ended there. Regulus didn't ask about the specifics, who hit whom, or how many threats the other party had made.

Avery wanted to speak, but seeing Regulus already walking towards the wooden table in the center of the training room, he shut his mouth and swallowed his words.

Each person begins their practice.

Perhaps because his excitement from tonight hadn't subsided, Alex's Iron Mantra showed significant improvement.

He raised his wand, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, his gaze was focused.

"Armor for protection."

Silver light surged from the tip of the staff, quickly extending into a semi-transparent barrier. The edges of the barrier undulated noticeably, and its shape was not entirely regular, but this time it took shape.

Although it only lasted for five seconds before shattering into points of light, it was a significant improvement compared to before when it couldn't even reassemble itself.

Avery wanted to test the barrier's strength, so he took three steps back and tapped his wand: "Obstacles Abound!"

The red light struck the barrier, causing it to shake violently and develop spiderweb-like cracks on its surface, but it held up and did not break.

The barrier didn't completely collapse until Avery added a second barrier spell.

Alex was panting, sweat beading on his forehead, but his eyes shone brighter as he looked at his wand as if he were seeing it for the first time.

Regulus stood by the wooden table, watching, a thought flashing through his mind.

When emotions are intense, magical reactions are more direct, especially for young wizards.

The young wizard's control over magic is not refined, and the structure of his spells is unstable. However, when his emotions are strong, his will to accomplish something becomes exceptionally clear, and his magic flows along with his will, automatically compensating for his lack of skill.

When Alex cast the Ironclad Spell, he was definitely thinking about what he was trying to block. That sense of urgency overcame his usual self-doubt, so the spell worked.

We can organize more of these kinds of activities in the future. They don't have to be fighting; they can be other things, like competitions, challenges, or simulated combat.

Let your emotions ignite, let your magic boil, and practice in that state might be much more effective than simply reciting spells from a textbook.

Of course, one must be careful not to lose control of one's emotions. Losing control of one's emotions may cause magic to go out of control as well, or even lead to dark magic or cause permanent damage. One must control the degree of harm.

Regulus snapped out of his thoughts and began his own practice.

Tonight we'll practice the Fierce Fire technique.

He took out an iron box from the drawer of the wooden table. It was prepared by the Requirement House according to his needs and contained small flammable materials for practice.

He poured a few pieces of wood, a wad of cotton, and a small bottle of grease onto the table.

Then raise your hand.

The incantation structure of the Fiery Curse was already solidified in his consciousness; he only needed to evoke specific emotions.

Recalling the despair of the Astronomy Tower's gray fog, the oppressive feeling brought by Voldemort, and the consequences of failure, these negative emotions became fuel.

The magic began to stir.

He held his palm up, his fingers loosely clenched, and a tiny orange-red flame appeared out of thin air three inches above his fingertips.

The flame was very small, only the size of a fingernail, with a bright white core and a golden tinge at the edges.

The temperature was kept under control so well that even the hairs on his palms didn't curl.

control.

With a slight thought, the flame began to deform.

It stretches from a spherical shape into a thin line, which then twists and grows a head, body, and tail.

A few seconds later, a fire snake the size of a matchstick hovered in the palm of the hand, its body undulating, its head raised, making a flicking motion.

Although it had no signal, Fiery Blaze mimicked that posture.

The fiery snake crawled between his five fingers.

It starts from the index finger, moves to the middle finger, then slides to the ring finger, and the tail sweeps across the gap between the little finger.

The temperature of the fire was always kept within a safe range; the skin could feel the warmth, but it was not enough to cause burns.

This control required him to split his consciousness into two streams: one to maintain the form of the Fiery Blaze, and the other to suppress the Fiery Blaze's instinctive desire to devour.

Fiendfire has life, but it is not true life; it is more like the inherent tendency of magical creations.

It wants to burn, to spread, to turn everything it touches into fuel.

What Regulus is doing now is using his will to put a bridle on it, so that it can only move within the range he has defined.

The fire snake crawled up his wrist and up his forearm. Regulus mobilized more magic to control the density of the Fiendfire.

The fire serpent's body solidified, its color changing from orange-red to dark red. As it crawled across the skin, it left a brief trail of light, but it did not burn the hairs or leave any scorches.

Maintain for 30 seconds.

The fire snake begins to become unstable, with sparks flying from its tail, a sign of declining control.

Regulus immediately withdrew his magic, the fire serpent's body shortened, turning back into its original flame, and then went out.

He lowered his hand and exhaled.

The control time was five seconds longer than last time, a slow but steady improvement.

The danger of the Fiend Curse lies in the fact that it has no intermediate state; it can either be completely controlled or go out of control and backfire.

Those extra five seconds meant that his understanding of Li Huo's true nature had deepened a little more.

However, his Fiendfire was too small, not even as small as a scale or edge of Voldemort's Fiendfire Serpent.

But he was not discouraged. He believed that even Voldemort could not suppress Fiendfire in his first year.

He rested for two minutes, waiting for his magic to stabilize, before starting his second practice session.

This time, we're attempting to split.

After the flames ignited, he used his mind to guide them to split into two streams.

The two flames twisted and turned, trying to become two small fire snakes, but the difficulty of controlling them increased exponentially the moment they split.

It's like trying to hold down two crazy cats at the same time; if you hold down the one on your left, the one on your right will scratch you.

One fire snake takes shape, while the other explodes before it can fully form, sparks flying onto the wooden tabletop. Then it twists rapidly, about to transform into a new shape.

Regulus suppressed it with his will.

Splitting requires a more precise allocation of magical energy, and unlike the combined use of spatial warp and spatial anchoring spells, which require the brain to be divided into two independent computational areas, it may also require the use of mental splitting techniques.

Try again next time.

......

The next day at breakfast, the owls, as usual, swarmed into the auditorium.

Gray, brown, and white wings flapped through the air, their feathers mingling with the morning light.

Regulus was spreading blueberry jam on his toast when a strange owl flew straight toward him.

The owl had dark brown feathers and a white stripe around its eyes; it was an uncommon species.

It clutched a roll of parchment in its paws. There was no envelope, and the roll was hastily bound with thin rope, without any markings or badges.

The owl landed on the edge of the silver plate in front of him, its claws scraping against the plate with a slight scraping sound.

Regulus put down his knife.

He first scanned the parchment with his magical senses, finding no trace of dark magic, no aura of curse, and no tracking or alarm spells attached.

It was just a piece of ordinary parchment, rolled up and tied up.

Only after confirming it was safe did he reach out to take it.

The owl handed over the scroll of paper, and because Regulus was a beat too slow, it impatiently pecked at the back of his hand with its beak, expressing its displeasure.

Regulus picked up a small piece of jerky from the table with his other hand and handed it over.

The owl snatched it, tilted its head back and swallowed it whole, making a satisfied cooing sound in its throat, then flapped its wings and flew away.

Regulus untied the string and unfolded the parchment.

The handwriting was very ordinary, without any personal characteristics. Each letter was as neat as if it were printed, and even the thickness of the strokes was consistent.

Such handwriting requires either deliberate training or the assistance of a magic quill pen.

The content is equally simple, consisting of only one line:

"Someone will be making a public statement in the common room tonight. The topic is related to the recent political climate. I suggest you observe from the sidelines and not get involved."

There was no signature, no end, and no specific date.

But the implication is clear: tonight, in the Slytherin common room, someone is planning something.

The topic is a recent trend, and the wording is vague, but in the context of recent events, it refers to the increasingly turbulent undercurrent of cleaning up the mess within the academy after the Thorne family attack.

Regulus finished reading, his face expressionless. He rolled up the parchment again and stuffed it into the inner pocket of his robe.

Avery cast a questioning glance at him from the side, and Regulus shook his head slightly at him. Avery immediately lowered his head and continued to fork the fried eggs on his plate.

Regulus's gaze casually swept over the Slytherin table.

Lucretius Burke sat at the far end of the long table, talking to a seventh-grade girl next to him.

He held a glass of pumpkin juice in his hand, occasionally taking a sip, his gaze naturally moving around the auditorium, observing his surroundings like a prefect.

When his gaze swept over Regulus, their eyes did not meet directly. Lucretius was looking at the tapestry behind Regulus, while Regulus was looking at the candlestick beside him.

But in that instant, Regulus understood.

The letter was delivered by Lucretius.