Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Regulus followed behind, making no effort to start a conversation.

I met Agnes once last year when I was inspecting the industry. At that time, I only saw the scale of the herb garden from afar and listened to the person in charge report on the harvest and the goblin harassment. I didn't have much interaction with her in person.

But Agnes clearly remembered him; her attitude was friendly but not obsequious, the kind of sense of propriety that only a long-time employee who had served the family for decades possessed.

The main house is a two-story stone building with ivy climbing all over the exterior walls, almost completely obscuring the windows.

Agnes pushed open the door, and in the entryway were piles of terracotta pots of all sizes. Some were planted with cuttings that were acclimatizing, while others were empty, with damp soil still clinging to the drainage holes at the bottom.

"It's clean upstairs, but messy downstairs, don't mind it," she said, already stepping onto the stairs.

The top-floor room wasn't large, but the windows were tastefully designed.

The east window faces the distant coastline. At this moment, the morning mist is gradually dissipating, and a light golden band of light can be seen where the gray-blue sea meets the horizon.

Below the south-facing window is a cluster of greenhouses with glass roofs that stretch out in a continuous line.

"This is the quietest room, no noise at night." Agnes pushed open the window, and the damp sea breeze rushed in.

"Just call me anytime if you need anything. Mr. Blake wrote to say that your main focus this time is on studying mandrakes?"

"Twenty plants will mature," Regulus said, placing his luggage on the low cabinet beside the bed. "It needs a separate greenhouse, where no one but me can enter or leave."

Agnes didn't ask any further questions; she simply nodded.

"A separate greenhouse, the one number three on the east side is empty. It was just cleared out last month. The sunlight and humidity are just right. There are twenty mature plants..."

She looked up, her gaze lingering in the air for a moment, as if taking inventory: "That's enough. It can be prepared before lunchtime."

Regulus nodded.

She maintained her calm expression: "Mr. Black, please rest first. I will bring the key to Greenhouse No. 3 before lunch."

She turned and went downstairs, her footsteps quickly disappearing around the corner of the stairs.

Regulus stood by the window, looking at the row of greenhouses in the distance.

Mandrake is not cheap.

Regulus had seen the purchasing records for this variety. A mature mandrake plant costs between 120 and 150 gallons. Twenty plants would cost around 3,000 gallons.

Moreover, the value of mandrake is not only reflected in the accounts.

It is recognized in the magical world as an irreplaceable core material in the field of healing.

The mature rhizome of the mandrake is the only ingredient for making Mandrake Restorative Elixir, the ultimate cure for the petrification curse, with no substitute.

In addition, its rhizome is used to make a potent stimulant, which is the first choice for dealing with mental damage after a Dementor's kiss.

Leaf extracts can neutralize various curse residues, and in ancient spellbook systems, powdered mandrake roots were an essential medium for certain high-level protective spells.

However, its rarity stems from the difficulty of cultivating it.

The growth cycle of mandrake consists of three stages.

It needs to go through three stages: infancy, adolescence, and maturity. It can only be used for pharmaceutical manufacturing when it is fully mature, and each stage has special requirements.

Young plants need to be fertilized with dragon manure, and during their adolescence, they need to be protected from interfering with each other. When harvesting mature plants, professional earmuffs must be worn. Any mistake at any stage may lead to the death of the plant or injury to the grower.

The humanoid rhizome of the mandrake possesses sensory-like properties, making it an iconic plant in the magical world.

The young rhizomes resemble crying babies. When mature, they enter puberty like humans, becoming moody, fond of parties, and even climbing into each other's flowerpots.

This unique biological characteristic gives it additional collectible and symbolic value in the magic market.

Mature mandrakes with a stable supply often come with a significant risk premium, and pure-blood families or magical apothecaries are willing to pay high prices for them.

Regulus opened the window, and the sea breeze rushed in.

Ten minutes before lunch, Agnes knocked on the door and brought the key.

The key is made of brass with intricate teeth, and it feels heavy in the palm of your hand.

Regulus accepted it, thanked him, and didn't rush off.

He finished lunch in the main house's dining room, drank a whole glass of pumpkin juice, and waited until the sun outside the window turned into a slightly warm golden hue before getting up and going out.

Greenhouse No. 3 is located on the easternmost side of the main building complex.

It stands alone, far from other greenhouses, surrounded by a low stone wall with faint runes on it that repel goblins and burrowers.

Regulus unlocked the door with his key and put on the protective earmuffs by the door.

The indoor lighting is dimmer than the outdoor lighting, and the glass roof has been blackout treatment, with only 60% light transmittance.

The stone path beneath our feet was slightly damp, and the planting troughs on both sides were neatly arranged, filled with specially prepared soil that was almost blackish-brown in color.

Twenty mandrake plants sat quietly in their respective flowerpots.

The plants are all around one foot tall, with large, dark green leaves and finely serrated edges.

The human-shaped outline of the rootstock is visible on the soil surface beneath the leaves, resembling the shoulder lines of a human infant, giving it a biological feel that a plant shouldn't have.

Regulus crouched down in front of the first row of planting troughs, looking at one of the plants at eye level.

He stretched out his hand, his palm hovering three inches above the leaf.

The magical perception spread out, the magic condensed into fine threads, and established a connection with the mandrake.

The feedback was very complicated.

The magical cycle of mandrake is a network, with multiple entrances and exits, intertwined like the root system of a large tree.

I touched a tendril, which was connected to another tendril, which in turn was connected to the main stem, and below the main stem was an even deeper part buried.

Regulus withdrew his hand, not in a hurry to try to extract it.

He closed his eyes and extended his magical perception once more. This time, he didn't want to investigate anything, just feel it.

Feel its life, feel the magic flowing between the veins of the leaves, feel the core deep within the roots.

That is the essence of what makes mandrake mandrake, the source of all its magic.

Regulus sat in front of the mandrake for the entire afternoon.

His palm hovered there, his magical tendrils reaching in, only to be repelled; he reached in again, only to be repelled again.

The biomorphic properties of the mandrake give it an instinctive repulsion against external magic.

I don't know you, I'm not used to you, and I don't want you to touch my core.

At the end of the first day, he had gained nothing.

Dinner was brought by Agnes and placed on a small wooden table at the entrance of the greenhouse. By the time he noticed it, the soup was already cold.

He drank the cold vegetable soup, ate two slices of dark bread, and sat back down.

The next morning, when he opened his eyes, his magical perception was still intact.

The plants seemed to have gotten used to him.

Regulus established a symbiotic relationship using natural magic and began to guide it. The magic of the mandrake began to loosen and slowly flow out along the magic channels Regulus had constructed.

He let the drop of condensed magic flow through his palm, feeling its texture, properties, and tendencies.

Regulus certainly knew what decomposition was.

Weathering, erosion, decay, oxidation.

Stones turn to sand, wood to soil, iron to rust, and bones to ash.

But those are natural decompositions, the collapse of order governed by physical rules.

Now Regulus knew that the decomposition of mandrake was another process.

He seemed to see a feather floating in the air, complete and white, with each barb neatly arranged.

Then the magic flowed through, and the feather didn't burn, break, or turn into powder.

It simply lost the definition of feathers all of a sudden.

The rachis is still there, the barbs are still there, the cilia are still there, but they are no longer part of the feather.

They are just many separate keratin fibers, scattered and falling, no longer connected to each other.

He then saw a glass of water, clear and calm, with the outline of the windowpane reflected on its surface.

The magic flowed, the water was still water, the H2O was still H2O, but it was no longer "a glass of water".

The cup contains countless water molecules, each independent, no longer forming the liquid as a whole.

The decomposition of mandrake is to return an already ordered entity to its original, unorganized state.

It invalidates the concept of the whole.

Regulus opened his eyes; it was already pitch black outside the window.

He looked down at his palm, which was empty.

But he knew that the drop of magic had already left an imprint on his consciousness.

On the third day, he began to attempt the extraction.

Progress is very slow.

The total amount of magic contained in a mature mandrake was greater than he had expected, and the extraction resistance was correspondingly higher.

At noon, he successfully extracted a magic ball about the size of two teardrops from the first mandrake.

In the evening, the second plant contributed three drops.

Late at night, the third, the fourth, and the fifth plant.

Agnes came three times a day, bringing hot tea and toast in the morning, a light meal at noon, and soup in the evening.

She never asked about the progress, nor did she urge anyone.

Each time I came in, I would tiptoe in, place the food on the small wooden table by the door, and then quietly leave, closing the door behind me.

The next chapter is even more exciting: Chapter 158 - Practicing magic costs money. We look forward to your visit.