Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

For the next ten days, Jiaoshi Town remained calm, and the whispers of the abyss never reappeared.

During this time, Regulus enjoyed a rare period of peace and quiet.

Three patrols are conducted daily, morning, noon, and evening. Together with Freya, they walk around the perimeter of Reef Town to check the condition of the protective runes and confirm that there are no abnormal magical fluctuations.

He made his own arrangements for the rest of the time, sometimes strolling around the town and visiting all the shops along the stone-paved streets.

The shop selling magical materials had pearl powder and seaweed extract, which were unique to the North Sea. The owner was a taciturn, elderly wizard who simply nodded when he saw him and continued to fiddle with the goods in his hands.

The woman who ran the grocery store was more talkative. She asked him in heavily accented English where he was from, how old he was, and how long he had been staying there.

Regulus responded politely, saying he was eighteen. The proprietress looked at his face carefully, then shook her head and mumbled something in German.

He spends most of his time in the cabin, as there's still a lot to practice.

The Disintegration Spell needs further refinement; the switching between the two forms should be effortless and seamless.

The coordination between spatial warp and spatial anchor points still needs adjustment, and he tried to involve mental segmentation techniques in it.

The Firefly's precision control remains at the level of three small birds, but the splitting speed and control accuracy can still be optimized.

He also carried the notebook that Professor McGonagall had given him, and would flip through a few pages every night before bed.

Those dynamic geometric shapes moved across the paper, changing shape, and Regulus was already able to glean something from them.

These ten days were simple: patrolling, going out to sea, practicing, and flipping through notes.

As he spent more time with Freya, they would occasionally go to that little tavern for dinner together.

Anyone who spends enough time with Regulus, unless they pay special attention to his appearance, will not treat him like a child.

Demeanor, temperament, speech, and views on things—these are all there, and you can naturally sense them after spending time with them.

There's no need to deliberately show off your maturity and composure; people will naturally overlook your age.

Freya's opinion of him is also changing.

One day, after a patrol, they stood on the edge of a cliff watching the sunset when Freya suddenly said, "You remind me of someone."

Regulus turned to look at her, but she didn't continue speaking. Instead, her gaze fell on the distant sea, lost in thought.

From Freya's perspective, this boy was indeed extraordinary.

Through conversation, she discovered that his understanding of magic not only exceeded his age but also that of most wizards she knew.

Of course, it wasn't all of them, but it was enough for her to subconsciously compare him to that person.

This comparison itself is quite telling.

Once they were talking about the essence of magic.

Regulus casually remarked, "Magic is a tool, a language, but ultimately it's a relationship."

The relationship between the spellcaster and the world, the relationship between magic and matter, and the relationship between individual will and collective will.

Freya remained silent for a long time after hearing this.

She remembered that the man had said something similar. At that time, she was already an adult and sitting at the lower end of the table, listening to him expound on those grand magical concepts.

But all she could do was listen, accept, and process.

The boy in front of us is only twelve years old. He doesn't need anyone to teach or guide him; he can express such opinions on his own.

Another time, they talked about the changes in the magical world.

Regulus said, "The current situation in Britain is actually a belated reshuffling. Voldemort's ideas are not new; they were proposed hundreds of years ago."

But he turned his ideas into a movement, and that movement into war, which set him apart from his predecessors.

"War changes many things," Regulus added. "Old rules will be broken, and new rules will be built on the ruins."

Families that cling to tradition without adapting will be eliminated, while those that can adapt to new rules, or even proactively create new rules, will survive.

This statement is not explicitly directed at anyone.

It makes sense to say that Voldemort established a new order after his victory, and it also makes sense to say that the old forces were reshuffled after his defeat.

Even pointing to the more distant future, the impact of the Muggle world on the magical world, or other changes that are not yet visible, could also make sense.

He was simply stating a pattern without making any judgments.

Freya then asked, "Which category does the Black family belong to?"

Regulus glanced at her and smiled. "We will survive, and thrive."

Freya nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

Regulus said many similar things.

What impact will technological advancements in the Muggle world have on the wizarding world? What are the variations of the pure-blood ideology in different countries? And what direction will the confrontation between Dumbledore and Voldemort ultimately take?

His perspectives are always unique and impressive.

Unlike the seemingly omniscient prophecies in his memory, Regulus is more like an observer standing on high ground, calmly examining the present and then logically deducing possible futures. (Read Chapter 173: Voldemort is Just Like That (Please Subscribe, Please Vote for Monthly Tickets))

Freya listened, sometimes nodding, sometimes frowning, and sometimes giving her an expression that said, "How do you know everything?"

Regulus would smile when he saw that expression; this way of getting along was simple and comfortable.

He doesn't usually have the chance to talk about these things.

He can talk to Orion, but the conversation usually focuses on his own little corner of Britain.

The Black family's affairs, Voldemort's affairs, Dumbledore's affairs, and the Ministry of Magic's movements.

Orion wasn't unaware of things further away, but he felt there was no need to delve into them; they were too far removed to affect the Black family.

Now, I'm speaking to Freya without any ulterior motive or calculation; it's simply a matter of expressing myself.

It feels good.

It's as if all those thoughts that have been weighing on my mind for so long have finally found an outlet.

You don't need to worry about whether the other person believes you or whether they will use this information; just say it, that's enough.

Freya would also respond to him.

She would talk about what German wizards thought about the matter, what the elders of the Eisenhardt family thought about the issue, and some related records she had read in books.

She speaks with a serious expression and tries hard to organize her thoughts. Sometimes, when she can't find the right English words, she will suddenly switch to German, then realize that's not right and switch back.

Regulus found it amusing.

Once they were talking about the undulating demons.

When discussing the current state of the European wizarding world, two figures are inevitably mentioned: Dumbledore and Voldemort.

Although they all operate in Britain, wizards of their caliber have long since transcended national borders in terms of influence.

Regulus brought them up first.

Freya's expression was a little strange when he heard him talk about Dumbledore.

There was no aversion or resistance, it was just like he had a lot to say, but for some reason chose not to say it. She just listened, nodded occasionally, and never responded.

When it came to Voldemort, she finally spoke: "He was indeed an extremely powerful dark wizard."

In Britain, his power was at its zenith, most pure-blood families had sided with him, and a fanatical atmosphere was spreading.

She looked at Regulus as she spoke, observing his reaction.

Regulus's face remained expressionless, just like usual, even showing a hint of indifference.

Fanaticism? No.

Afraid? Not really.

Loyalty? Not at all.

His attitude towards Voldemort was simple: a powerful opponent, a threat that had to be dealt with, and an object that needed to be used. That was all.

If he has to put on a show for someone, he can pretend, and he can even use a virtual persona.

Even though it's a virtual personality, he won't be obsequious or servile, since the body is his.

At most, he could design a character who is full of awe for power, longs to follow the strong, and hopes to rule the world with pure blood. That would probably please Voldemort.

Freya saw his reaction and secretly breathed a sigh of relief before continuing to express her opinion.

"The power is indeed formidable, that's undeniable, but it's nothing special." Her tone and expression were indifferent.

"He's been managing the British Isles for so many years, yet he still hasn't gained a decisive advantage, and..."

She suddenly stopped talking at this point.

Regulus chimed in for her: "Compared to someone else, is your perspective a bit narrow?"

Freya glanced at him, her eyes seemed to light up for a moment, then quickly closed again, neither admitting nor denying it.

No one doubts Voldemort's power; he could wreak havoc and commit terror in Britain.

But in the eyes of these pure-blood families in Germany who had lived through the Grindelwald era, a dark wizard who had been causing trouble for so many years and still couldn't handle the British Ministry of Magic was really nothing special.

That noon, after their patrol ended, they returned to the cliff.

The weather was great, the sun was shining, and the sea was as calm as a mirror.

Visibility was excellent; you could even see the slight curve of the horizon in the distance, like the outline of the edge of the world.

"The view here is beautiful," Regulus exclaimed, gazing into the distance.

Freya looked around, then raised her hand and waved. Ripples appeared in the air, and a house-pom appeared out of thin air.

Freya quickly said a few words in German, the little fairy nodded, and then disappeared with a snap.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, remained silent, and waited quietly.

A few minutes later, it reappeared, carrying a picnic blanket and several food containers.

The food box was opened, revealing grilled sausages, rye bread, potato salad, pickles, several pieces of cheese, a bottle of pumpkin juice, and a glass of stout.

The two sat down on the rocks, facing the sea, and began to eat lunch.

The sea breeze blows, the sun shines down, and it feels warm and cozy.

The latest chapter has ignited the plot! Stay tuned for more updates.