Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Hogwarts: Regulus, Lord of the Stars: Receives rave reviews and overwhelming praise!

"this..."

The masked man adjusted his broom, turning it slightly to face Regulus.

He was waiting for Regulus to introduce himself.

Regulus looked at him without saying a word.

Give my name? No need.

He believed that even if he revealed his identity, even if he killed members of Whispers of the Abyss, as long as they weren't stupid, they wouldn't go to England to retaliate, much less cause trouble in such a place.

Not to mention that the Black family is not to be trifled with, the current situation in the British wizarding world is so delicate.

Voldemort and Dumbledore, two wizards standing at the pinnacle of the world, formed a fragile balance.

The Death Eaters are expanding, the Order of the Phoenix is ​​preparing, the Ministry of Magic is struggling, and the entire British magical community is tilting to one side or the other.

At this time, no outside force dares to interfere.

Even without actually intervening, simply extending a gesture towards Britain could ignite a certain situation.

Whispers of the Abyss is listed on the international black wizard organization directory, far surpassing those second-rate gangs.

They may not have a great reputation, but in the eyes of those who truly stand tall, they are very conspicuous.

The Black family knew them, Voldemort knew them, and Dumbledore knew them even better.

Once they enter England, Voldemort will think they are outsiders invited by Dumbledore, and Dumbledore will think they are helpers recruited by Voldemort.

Neither side will tolerate third-party intervention in their territory.

Whispers of the Abyss are not clueless fools; they won't go to England.

Even so, Regulus would not reveal his name.

There's no need for that.

Seeing that he didn't intend to speak, the masked man wasn't annoyed. He continued, "...handsome gentleman."

Regulus remained unmoved by the title; he was, of course, handsome.

Freya glanced at him sideways.

That glance was quick; her face was expressionless, and her eyes held no emotion. She looked at it briefly, then looked away and turned back to the person opposite her.

But Regulus felt that she was probably secretly laughing to herself.

Let go of this pointless thought.

The masked man continued, his tone sincere: "You're not from the Eisenhart family. There's no need to risk your life for something that doesn't belong to you. Leave now, and we won't stop you."

Regulus remained unmoved.

The masked man realized that the two were cut from the same cloth, and each one was more troublesome than the other.

He shook his head, controlling the broom to slowly retreat, his eyes never leaving Regulus and Freya.

Just then, Regulus called out to him, "Mr. Masked Man."

The masked man stopped and stepped back, looking at him.

"What are you seeking?" Regulus asked.

The question startled the masked man.

He thought for a moment before saying, "The truth, the truth hidden in the deep sea, those civilizations buried by time, those knowledge swallowed by the sea, those things that existed before humankind..."

He paused, as if searching for the right word, but couldn't find it, so he mumbled, "...things."

Regulus nodded, and seeing that the other was willing to answer, he asked again, "Why do you pursue it?"

The masked man thought for a longer time this time, and after more than ten seconds, he slowly spoke: "Perhaps it's because it really exists."

These words seem to answer, yet they also seem to answer nothing at all.

I pursue it simply because it exists.

Regulus understood.

The answer wasn't particularly profound, but he could understand the mindset.

Searching, exploring, not for any grand reason, but simply because it's there.

It exists, so it's worth taking a look; it holds secrets, so it's worth uncovering them.

As for what we'll gain after solving it, that's a matter for later.

It's very similar to his attitude towards magical research.

Regulus nodded slightly, as if to thank the other party for their reply.

The masked man glanced at him again and continued to back away.

He stepped back to stand alongside the other six people, stopped, and finally said, "Miss Eisenhart, and this handsome gentleman."

The voice still had that strange tone.

"I'll be waiting for you on the island."

After saying that, the seven of them simultaneously turned their brooms around and flew towards the island. Their black figures grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared into the shadows of the buildings.

After the masked man left, Freya and Regulus remained silent for a moment.

The boat bobbed gently with the waves, the sails fluttering in the sea breeze, and the small black island in the distance lay quietly on the sea, showing no sign of movement.

Regulus was thinking about the conversation they had just had.

He now knew why the masked man wanted to obtain that maritime document.

It points to the lost ruins deep in the North Sea, hiding something that could change many things.

Freya had never told him any of this.

Of course, he didn't ask.

Regulus was naturally interested in, and very interested in, the relics hidden somewhere in the world.

Especially the last thing the masked man mentioned: something that existed before humans.

Regulus had never thought about this question before.

The history of the magical world is usually traced back from the Four Great Wizards to an ancient civilization and a lost magical system.

Did magic exist back then?

If so, what would it be like?

he does not know.

Today, it was brought up by a wizard from what could be considered an opposing force that he realized there was such a group of people in the wizarding world.

They do not fight for power, nor are they concerned with bloodlines, nor do they cheer for any black or white demon king.

They are searching for something that truly belongs to wizards—a secret that transcends time, perspectives, and power struggles, a secret that belongs to magic itself.

Regulus recalled his attitude toward magic.

He studied magic, developed spells, and built systems.

He wanted to know how this thing worked, what principles lay behind it, and whether he could understand and control it in his own way.

Whispering from the abyss, he seeks the truth of magic, he seeks the essence of magic.

Although the directions are different, the underlying logic is the same.

This inevitably evoked a sense of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a feeling of mixed emotions, including regret or reflection).

How wonderful it would be if one day he could let go of the things he had to deal with and pursue the things that truly moved him.

Just like in those adventure stories, explore lost ruins in every corner of the world, unravel ancient mysteries, and touch the truths buried by time.

That kind of life is something to yearn for.

But reality is what it is.

Voldemort won't give him that time, and war won't give him that space.

The responsibilities of the Black family, the power struggles among pure-blood families, and the watchful eyes on him all prevent him from doing these things now.

He can encounter things that move him on his path to power.

But they won't actively pursue it.

He certainly wanted to, but he couldn't.

Power is paramount; only with sufficient power can one have the freedom to choose.

At that time, he can go wherever he wants, do whatever he wants, and pursue any secret he wants.

but not now.

Now he must be clear-headed, rational, and focused on the goal at hand.

It will happen someday.

There was a moment of silence.

Regulus sensed that Freya was hesitant to speak; her lips moved slightly as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't.

He suddenly remembered the question she had asked a few days ago, and then thought of the coordinates the masked man had mentioned, the maritime ruins, and the document that recorded the coordinates.

Regulus had a hunch that this might be the ultimate goal, or rather, the final mission.

The answer to that question may be hidden in that ruin.

He turned to face Freya.

She stood there, still with that heroic and upright appearance, but her temperament was completely different from when they were negotiating earlier.

When she confronted the masked man just now, she exuded a dignified majesty, like a snow-covered mountain peak, making people afraid to approach.

Now that air of awe has vanished. She looks somewhat hesitant, her lips pursed, as if she wants to tell the whole story, but also has some reservations.

Regulus didn't make things difficult for her.

He didn't press her about the documents, the relics, or what she was hiding.

He simply asked in a gentle tone, "How will you fight later?"

Freya was taken aback.

She looked at him with a hint of surprise; after such a long silence, she had thought he would definitely press her for answers.

After all, things have progressed to this point, and any normal person would be curious and want to know more.

But he didn't ask.

Freya breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

But at the same time, she had a vague feeling, as if he had circumvented her.

Looking at his slightly smiling face, she felt as if she had been seen through, yet also as if she hadn't been seen through at all.

Her expression changed, and finally it looked a bit like she glared at him.

"Revenge," she said, trying to keep her tone calm, "of course, I'll go all out."

Regulus simply nodded: "Okay."

Freya looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then asked hesitantly, "Regrus, you really don't want to ask me anything?"

Regulus just smiled at her without saying a word.

Freya met his gaze.

During normal conversations, she felt no pressure making eye contact with Regulus.

Her gaze was always direct; she would look at things she wanted to look at, and look away when she wanted to look away.

But now she's starting to feel the strain.

The boy just smiled at her, saying nothing, his eyes seeming to hold a lot of things, yet also nothing at all.

She didn't know what he was thinking, what he had figured out, or what he would say next.

She first looked away, then turned her head away, no longer looking at him.

As she turned her head, she rolled her eyes.

Regulus noticed this and his smile widened even further.

Freya pretended not to notice his expression, raised her wand, and waved it towards the cabin.

The hatch opened, and two flying brooms flew out and hovered in front of the two people.

The old model has a smooth wooden handle and neatly trimmed branches at the end, just like the ones used by these Thunderous Gurus.

Freya picked one up and handed it to Regulus.

Regulus accepted it.

"Let's go." Freya's tone had returned to normal.

She straddled the broom, clamped her legs together, and soared into the air, flying towards the small black island.

Regulus watched her retreating figure and hopped on his broom.

The island was getting closer.

The system has matched you with a fantasy novel category. Click to view details.