Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Freya waved, and the boss came over.

She spoke a few sentences quickly in German, even faster than she spoke English, and Regulus could only catch a few words here and there.

Brot, bread, Wurst, sausage, Kartoffeln, potato, Bier, beer.

The owner nodded and left. Not long after, the food was served.

A wooden tray, piled high with items.

A plate of sliced ​​rye bread, dark in color, exudes a rich aroma of wheat.

Two plates of sausages, one plate of Nuremberg sausages fried until golden brown, long and thin, one bite at a time.

The other dish is Munich white sausage, which is short and thick, and is kept warm in warm water.

A plate of potato salad, with thinly sliced ​​potatoes mixed with onions and pickles, and drizzled with some kind of creamy white sauce.

There were also two bowls of thick soup, with chunks of meat and vegetables floating in them, and a layer of oil on the surface.

Freya ordered herself a stout.

Regulus was a minor, so he had a glass of pumpkin juice in front of him.

The two began to eat.

Regulus cut off a piece of white sausage, peeled off the outer skin, dipped it in sweet mustard, and put it in his mouth.

The meat is delicate and has a subtle spice flavor, with marjoram, parsley, and cardamom, quite different from the rugged sausages of England.

He then tried the potato salad; it was sour with a hint of sweetness, and very appetizing.

Freya ate quietly. She cut off a small piece of sausage, put it in her mouth slowly, chewed almost silently, her lips closed, and her jaw moved slightly.

This contrasts sharply with his heroic and fierce image during battle.

Regulus ate quietly, and the two exchanged a few words occasionally.

"How long has this shop been open?" Regulus asked.

"Forty years," Freya said, "it was passed down from the boss's father."

"Do you come here often?" Regulus asked again.

"During the mission," Freya replied again.

She didn't talk much, but she answered every question, only briefly, without saying a word more.

Regulus didn't try to make conversation; they just ate, occasionally glancing out the window and exchanging a few inconsequential words.

After finishing their meal, the two left the tavern.

The night outside was even darker than before.

A gap appeared in the clouds, and moonlight shone through, casting a narrow, silvery path across the sea that stretched into the darkness.

The sound of the waves was gentler than before, no longer so violent.

Freya walked in front, with Regulus following slightly behind her.

The two walked along the stone path toward the small house by the sea.

The moonlight stretched their shadows long, casting them on the ground, one tall and one short, one in front of the other.

Freya stopped at the door of the cabin, and Regulus stopped as well.

Freya turned around and looked down at him.

"The whispers of the abyss will be quiet for a few days," she said, her tone returning to its previous calm, "but they won't give up. Continue patrolling tomorrow. I'll wake you in the morning."

Regulus nodded.

Freya continued to look at him, blinking once.

Then her tone changed slightly, taking on a somewhat coaxing tone, like she was comforting a child, and sounded a little unskilled: "Don't worry, they don't know who you are, so don't fret."

Regulus tilted his head back, somewhat speechless.

He is twelve years old, not two.

Freya had already turned and left.

Her platinum blonde braid swung as she turned, tracing an arc in the air before draping over her shoulder.

She walked a little faster than usual, and Regulus wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but there seemed to be a hint of elation in her steps.

He watched her figure disappear around the corner of another building and shook his head slightly.

He pushed open the wooden door, went inside, and after a quick wash, Regulus lay down on the bed.

The ceiling was made of natural wood and had a few cracks, but they were well repaired. The sound of waves could be heard outside the window, coming in waves, like the rhythm of breathing.

After spacing out for a while, he began to think.

Regulus analyzed himself; his mind seemed a bit more active today.

This is not a big problem. He has been here for more than ten years and has always maintained a calm and rational state, but that does not mean that he has no emotions or fluctuations.

Today I met an adult witch who impressed me deeply; she possessed a charm that I admired.

He possesses a heroic physique, a cool yet handsome appearance, an efficient work style, and occasionally reveals subtle expressions that contrast sharply with his outward appearance.

These things all seemed interesting to him, which may have stimulated his thinking.

After all, he wasn't really a twelve-year-old boy.

He shook his head, banishing those thoughts, and got back to business.

The system has matched you with a fantasy novel category. Click here.

The first attack failed to achieve its intended purpose, was dodged by the opponent, and was even countered to some extent.

This shows that the Disintegration Curse is not invincible.

At least a valid hit is required.

If it's just a graze on the hem of clothing, or even just the extremities, an experienced wizard, quick enough and ruthless enough, can find a way to deal with it.

But the next attack was different.

By combining spatial warp and spatial anchors, he could directly teleport the spell onto the opponent's skin, resulting in a completely different effect, leaving the opponent with no time to react.

A direct hit, resulting in immediate death.

In wizard duels, it's impossible for every spell to hit. The opponent will dodge, block, and use various means to defend. If you manage to dodge it, so be it; just come up with another one.

And if it hits the target effectively, the Disintegration Curse can indeed kill instantly.

The effect is clear and sufficient.

Then, he killed someone for the first time.

Regulus carefully examined his consciousness and mind, and found no discomfort.

On a moral level, there was no ripple; on a spiritual level, there was no impact; on a soul level, there was no influence.

He had discussed this topic with Orion last year when they were in Knockout Lane.

He said at the time that he had no opinion on killing and that he was not afraid to kill.

That statement was based on my understanding of myself at the time; it was a judgment.

If someone actually kills someone today, it proves that he has a fairly thorough understanding of himself.

Regulus then thought about the mental erosion, the last spell the masked man cast, and the chilling realization it evoked.

It doesn't attack the physical body or magic; it only attacks the will to fight and the meaning of existence.

Regulus placed it into the mental barrier, and Betelgeuse gradually lit up during the process.

However, the quality of that erosion was not high enough; it couldn't even break through his brain-sealing technique, and he needed to actively open an opening to let it in.

In this situation, there's nothing that can be done except to validate the concept of self-protection.

But he did sense that Betelgeuse needed this kind of confrontation, this kind of protection.

Going forward, as long as it continues to face similar attacks or actively seeks higher-level confrontations, Betelgeuse should be able to be fully illuminated.

This can be considered a success.

Then he thought of Freya and was almost certain that she had done it on purpose.

Regulus felt that this was just the beginning and there was more to come.

A figure flashed through his mind.

Her medium-length, silvery-gray hair was combed back, and her eyes held a sense of knowing everything yet caring nothing at all.

Elegant, dangerous, alluring, and violent.

That image surfaced from the depths of my memory.

Thinking of this, Regulus suddenly sat up and waved his hand at the ceiling for no apparent reason, as if greeting someone.

He waited a moment, then lay down again, shaking his head slightly at himself.

boring.

All of this is just speculation, or even baseless wishful thinking.

There is no evidence that the blue flame belongs to that person, no evidence that Freya is related to that person, and no evidence that this mission was pre-arranged.

There was another reason why he didn't ask Freya directly.

If his guess is correct, once the question is asked, it will be solid evidence.

It's like a story with an open ending that suddenly becomes a fixed script, leaving only one option.

He had no choice but to continue down that road.

But if you don't ask, or if he doesn't know anything at all.

What will happen during the process?

Where will the ending lead?

Either way is fine, at least the reason is on his side.

He can act, he can pretend, and he can say, "I don't know," when necessary.

But then I thought, if it really is that person, what difference would it make if he did it?

Since that person arranged all of this, he must have had his purpose. Whether Regulus cooperates or not, it probably won't affect anything.

Regulus shook his head slightly, thinking that there was no practical point in thinking about these things.

No matter who's behind him, no matter what their motives are, all he can do now is keep moving forward, keep getting stronger, and keep accumulating experience.

Let's take a step by step.

The only thing Regulus didn't doubt was that he truly deserved to be treated this way.

Dumbledore has already stepped in, guiding him, enlightening him, and providing him with resources through the professors.

Voldemort has also entered the fray, using darkness to tempt, corrupt, and win him over.

Even if there were one more of that person, it wouldn't make much difference.

He turned over and closed his eyes.

go to bed.