Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Arnold Belmont, that name hangs in the silent lounge.

Everyone held their breath. The younger students shrank back, their backs pressed against the cold stone wall, their eyes wide as they stared at the empty space in front of the fireplace.

The older students remained seated, their gazes shifting back and forth between Regulus and Arnold, as if anticipating what would happen next.

Those shrewd people were having complicated thoughts running through their minds at that moment.

They understood Arnold's intentions: to use the prevailing trend and collective will to force Regulus to take a stand. This tactic wasn't new in the pureblood community, and someone would always fall for it.

But they didn't expect Regulus to retaliate like this.

He twisted a disagreement about ideology, a matter of whether or not to support garbage cleanup, into a display of disrespect from the Belmont family towards the Black family.

With that twist, the whole situation changed.

There are hierarchical levels within the pureblood circle.

The Black family stands at the top of the tower, while the Belmont family is located slightly below the middle of the tower.

People usually maintain a respectable appearance, using honorifics and polite manners in social interactions, but everyone knows the invisible line.

You can compete with the Black family, do business with them, and even have political disagreements with them.

But you can't publicly say that I'm taller than you, and you can't treat the Black family members in public with that almost commanding tone.

That's crossing the line.

Now Regulus drew this line, in the most straightforward way.

You, a Belmont native, what gives you the right to talk to me like that?

The young wizards who had just been stirred up by Arnold, especially those from the Twenty-Eight Holy Clans, all changed their expressions.

When they listened to the speech, they felt that Arnold was right; purebloods should behave like purebloods and that impurities should be removed.

But now that Regulus has pointed it out, they realize that he was just giving orders to the Black family heir.

That's disgusting.

They can agree with the ideas, but they cannot accept Belmont treating Blake that way.

That would indirectly lower the status of my family. If Belmont can treat Blake like this, will he treat my family like this next time?

The seventh-graders exchanged glances; some shook their heads, while others curled their lips into a mocking smile. Arnold had messed up this time.

Dorfin Rolle stood in the shadows, his hands in his robe pockets.

His gaze shifted back and forth between Regulus and Arnold, the initial expectation on his face vanishing, replaced by a disappointed expression.

It's like watching a great show collapse right at the start.

That expression appeared for only a moment before he suppressed it, but Regulus caught it.

Now that you've shown yourself, do you think you can escape?

Regulus ignored him for the time being and turned his attention back to Arnold Belmont.

Arnold stood there, as if he had been punched in the face.

His face turned from white to red and then to green, his lips trembled, he wanted to say something, but his throat felt like it was blocked by something.

His eyes darted around, scanning the faces of the people around him. Those who had been applauding him just moments before now looked distant, and some even took a few steps back, distancing themselves from him.

He realized the devastating impact of Regulus's words.

Once he admits to the accusation of disrespecting Blake, it will no longer be a quarrel between two students.

That would escalate into a conflict between the Belmont and Black families.

And once it rises to the family level—

Arnold broke out in a cold sweat.

No matter how big the Belmont family's business or how extensive their connections, they are still far inferior to the Black family.

The foundation of an ancient pure-blood family is not just the Galleons in its vaults, but the political capital, magical heritage, marriage networks, and industrial control accumulated over centuries.

The Black family has a seat in Wizengamor, influence in the Ministry of Magic, and even their own channels outside the British magical community.

What about the Belmont family?

They survive by scheming, by doing dirty work, and by being flexible.

If things really come to a head, the Black family could make it impossible for them to move an inch in the wizarding world, based solely on what's out in the open.

They froze their funds, cut off supplies, voted against them in Wizengamot, and even used their family influence to get the Ministry of Magic to investigate their smuggling business.

That class barrier is invisible in ordinary times, but it truly exists and cannot be crossed.

If we used more realistic and direct methods, the Belmont family would be destroyed in an instant.

Arnold opened his mouth, his voice trembling, "Regulus, I..."

I don't want to hear you call my name.

With a flick of his left hand, without even drawing his wand, Regulus unleashed a silent Tongue-locking and Throat-Sealing Spell.

A flash of red light, and Arnold felt as if his throat was being gripped by an invisible hand. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out; only the hissing sound of air passing through his vocal cords could be heard.

Only then did he remember that he was a wizard. He frantically reached for his wand, his movements clumsy in his panic, and his robe pockets were torn and deformed.

He finally drew his wand and held it in his hand, the tip trembling, but he didn't know where to point it.

Pointing to Regulus?

No.

If this were merely an internal conflict within the academy, he could retaliate with a spell.

But now Regulus has escalated the issue to the point that the Belmont family disrespects the Black family, and if he takes action, it will be tantamount to confirming that he indeed looks down on the Black family.

Arnold's hand, holding the wand, froze in mid-air, caught in a dilemma.

Regulus didn't give him time to think it over.

He drew his wand slowly, as if performing a ritual.

The wand rose, its tip aimed at Arnold's chest.

"Eliminate your weapon."

A beam of red light shot out and struck Arnold, causing his wand to fly out of his hand, spin a few times in the air, and land at Regulus's feet.

Regulus gave a light kick with his toe, and the wand slid to the edge of the fireplace and fell into the pile of ash.

Arnold's body was thrown backward by the force of the spell, knocking over a low stool. He landed with his knees on the ground, making a dull thud.

He knelt there, hands on the ground, trying to get up, but Regulus had already walked up to him.

The surrounding crowd spread backward, and no one stopped them.

It would be unwise to intervene at this time.

Regulus has characterized the conflict as a family feud, and whoever gets involved is essentially taking sides.

By siding with Arnold, one is essentially admitting that they also believe the Belmont family can treat the Black family this way, and that their own family might be implicated.

As for siding with Regulus, there's no need. The situation is already clear: Regulus has an absolute advantage, and going up to help would be superfluous.

Others are also observing Regulus.

This first-year student leader had previously demonstrated magical prowess, overwhelming fifth-year students, but that was on the level of physical strength.

Now he's demonstrating something else: control of the situation, application of the rules, and that cold, decisive power.

They wanted to see just how far he could go.

Arnold raised his head, his eyes filled with fear, but deep down there was a sinister glint in them.

His throat was still under the effect of the tongue-locking spell, preventing him from speaking. He could only stare at Regulus with his eyes, as if trying to etch that face into his brain.

Regulus looked down at him, his face expressionless, but that indifference was more chilling than anger.

The wand rose again.

"The force is released and the energy dissipates."

The blue light struck Arnold's shoulder, his body went limp, his supporting arm lost its strength, and his upper body slumped forward, but his knees remained on the ground.

Regulus pressed down with his wand, and Arnold's back felt as if it were being pressed down by an invisible hand, forcing his spine to straighten, but his head drooped.

"Limbs restrained."

Another spell was cast, and Arnold's arms were bound by invisible ropes, pulled backward, his wrists crossed behind his back in a reverse-handed position.

His head was forcibly lifted by that force, his chin was raised, his neck was straightened, revealing his vulnerable throat.

The whole posture resembled some kind of ancient penitential ritual: kneeling, hands tied behind the back, head tilted back, exposing the genitals.

The firelight from the fireplace danced on his face, illuminating his wide eyes and pupils that had shrunk in fear.

The only sound in the break room was the crackling of burning firewood.

Everyone watched this scene, and some of the younger students covered their mouths, afraid to make a sound.

In the upper grades, several girls looked away, but quickly turned back, as if drawn by some cruel beauty.

Narcissa's mouth was slightly open, but she didn't speak.

Lucretius picked up his cup and took a sip; the sound of him swallowing was abrupt in the silence.

Dorfin Roll stepped out of the shadows and carefully examined the posture, his eyes showing a hint of appreciation, but more so regret.

Regulus put away his wand.

He doesn't need to do anything more; this gesture has already conveyed all the information.

Humiliation, oppression, and the display that I can take your life at any time.

He looked around.

Within sight, some people nodded politely, indicating their approval of his approach.

Some people's eyes shone with fanaticism; they were worshippers who had been conquered by such forceful methods.

Some people lowered their heads in fear, not daring to meet his gaze.

"Arnold Belmont," Regulus began, his voice flat.

"You must kneel here until tomorrow morning. No one is allowed to break the spell, and no one is allowed to notify the professor. If anyone violates this rule—"

His gaze swept over the people who had applauded Arnold the most enthusiastically just now.

"I will know."

The men trembled and lowered their heads.

Regulus turned to Narcissa and nodded to her, to which Narcissa returned a slight nod.

He turned and walked towards the exit of the lounge.

Avery, Alex, and Hermes wanted to follow, but Regulus stopped them with a look and shook his head slightly. The three of them stopped and remained where they were.

Regulus pushed open the stone door and stepped into the corridor.

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