Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Regulus returned to his dormitory, quickly washed up, and felt refreshed; his body had almost fully recovered.

He lay in bed, but couldn't fall asleep. His emotions had calmed down, but his body still remembered the feeling from before.

The oppressive force pressing down on my back, the roar of the air tearing through my ears, the extreme speed at which everything before my eyes turned into blurry light and shadow.

So exciting.

He has also experienced several types of spatial travel.

The feeling of Apparition squeezing into a rubber tube and then emerging, the discomfort of being pulled along by a hook with a key, and the warmth of being enveloped in light when using Guardian Angel.

Each one has its own unique charm, but they are completely different from the pure speed of the previous one.

That was using one's own strength to propel oneself to near the speed of sound, with internal organs pressed against the back by inertia, and the world in front of one's eyes stretched into countless rapidly receding lines.

Humans are born with a desire for speed and flight, and wizards are no exception; at least, he is one of them.

Wizards have too many shortcuts: Apparition is instantaneous, Flying Broomsticks are leisurely, and Flying Charms are wobbly.

Few people have actually tried to use their own strength to tear a hole in the air and rush forward.

But Regulus tried it.

In the darkness, he twitched the corner of his mouth.

This experience can only happen once, or countless times. Once you've done it the first time, there will definitely be a second, a third, and countless more.

Then we need to think carefully about how to improve it; that thing we just saw was too rough.

The outer shell is just a random shape sculpted from the Iron Mantle. It has a pointed tip and a barely streamlined shape, but there are too many areas for aerodynamic optimization.

The curvature of the wings, the cross-section of the fuselage, and the angle of the nose all affect drag.

The power system was even more crude. The flames burned in the nozzle, providing thrust, but the direction was unstable. He temporarily added two auxiliary nozzles to barely maintain balance.

What we should really do is design a complete thrust vectoring system that allows the nozzles to turn and adjust the thrust direction, so that the aircraft can go wherever it wants, instead of being pushed around.

The structural strength was also problematic. When it flew close to the speed of sound, the Ironclad Curse's outer shell began to vibrate at a high frequency, and ripples appeared on its surface.

Regulus knew that was a sign that the structure was struggling on the verge of overload.

We need to find a way to reinforce it, either by layering or using a multi-layered composite structure.

If one layer of Iron Armor Spell isn't enough, then two layers, three layers, weaving the magic into something even more intricate.

The body's ability to withstand the impact is also a problem. The shock-absorbing spells offset some of the inertial pressure, but it's not enough.

When he flew at over a thousand kilometers per hour, he felt as if his internal organs were being compressed into a ball.

We need to research more efficient anti-gravity methods, perhaps by enveloping the entire body in magic to distribute inertia evenly rather than concentrating it at a few points.

There was also the turning, but this time I just went straight and didn't dare to turn.

But to truly fly, one must be able to turn, rotate, and stop suddenly.

This requires a more sophisticated control system that combines magical perception with fine-tuning of the nozzles, making the aircraft an extension of the body.

As Regulus pondered these thoughts, more ideas popped into his head.

Next time, we can try going even higher, up to the stratosphere, and see what color the sky is.

Go faster, break the sound barrier, and see what it feels like when that invisible wall is smashed open.

If you need data, you need physics, you need things beyond magic, the Muggle world has plenty.

Airplanes, rockets, fighter jets—those things don't rely on magic; they rely on an understanding of air, materials, and energy.

Over hundreds of years, Muggles gradually increased the speed from tens of kilometers per hour to thousands, then tens of thousands, until it could fly out of the Earth.

Those data, those formulas, those design drawings, are all kept in the Muggle world.

He needs to find someone to search the place, but he can't let the Blake family do it.

The Black family was being watched by too many people: Voldemort's side, Dumbledore's side, and the Ministry of Magic's side.

Whatever he does, or whatever his father does, someone is watching. Even if they aren't discovered, there's no need to take that risk.

When it comes to rummaging through information in the Muggle world, it's best to avoid involving your family's name.

Regulus thought of those Muggle-born and half-blood wizards.

They have family members living in the Muggle world, Muggle relatives, and Muggle friends.

You can easily find an excuse to have your family go to the library or buy a few books at the bookstore; it won't attract any attention at all.

He has a few candidates in mind, but hasn't decided who to send yet. He's not in a hurry; he'll take his time.

He then thought about his aircraft, and theoretically, how fast could this thing fly?

The Ironclad Curse is strong enough that, with proper structural design, it can withstand the impact of supersonic airflow.

The thrust of the Fiery Blaze is sufficient; as long as the magic power is available, it can push the speed to several thousand kilometers per hour.

Regarding physical endurance, perhaps we could develop anti-load spells, and also add body-strengthening spells to temporarily enhance the body to withstand higher overloads.

Several thousand kilometers per hour, that's the speed of a fighter jet. If optimized to the extreme, it might reach tens of thousands.

But that requires overcoming many more problems.

Thermal barrier: the heat generated by high-speed friction. Can the Ironclad Curse withstand it?

Blackout: During ultra-high-speed flight, plasma can envelop the entire spacecraft, potentially severing its senses and connection with the outside world.

When space is distorted at a certain speed, space itself becomes unstable.

These problems are increasingly difficult, but they are not entirely without solutions.

A heat barrier can be mitigated with a cooling spell, or by having Fiendfire form a low-temperature barrier on the outer layer.

Although it sounds contradictory, the Fiery Blaze is controllable; it can be slowed down and its temperature lowered.

The darkness can be perceived directly with the mind, without the need for eyes or magic.

Space distortion happens to be the area he's researching, and perhaps he can use it in reverse.

What if we go even higher?

It breaks out of the atmosphere, enters near-Earth orbit, and flies around the Earth.

That would require not just a few thousand kilometers per hour, but 28,000 kilometers per hour, the first cosmic velocity.

At that speed, the air is a solid wall, and when breaking through the atmosphere, the heat generated by friction can heat anything to its limit.

But Muggles have insulation materials, ablative layers, and various ways to get through it, so there's no reason why magic can't do it.

Once in space, there is no air, no resistance, but also no buoyancy and no direction.

The aircraft will keep flying forward and won't stop unless thrust in the opposite direction.

Regulus shook his head as he thought about those images.

That's too far ahead. Thinking about those things now is like dreaming. Let's focus on doing what's in front of us right now.

He thought of Voldemort's unmanned flight spell, which must be the best way for the wizarding world to fly.

It is fast, agile, has a long range, and can even hover in the air. Its overall performance is extremely superior, and no magic can compare to it.

Voldemort flew like a wisp of smoke, so fast that it was impossible to see him, so fast that it was impossible to keep up, and so fast that it was impossible to react.

The word "elegant" popped into Regulus's mind.

His flying machine is definitely faster than Voldemort's.

The Ironclad Curse combined with the Flame of Fury could theoretically increase speed to a level that Voldemort couldn't reach.

But its handling and range are definitely not as good as his.

Voldemort's body could fly; he could turn however he wanted and fly for as long as he wished.

His aircraft needs to be controlled, adjusted, and have its trajectory calculated.

Hovering is something you could try. By pushing the thrust downwards and causing the Fiery Blaze to spray in the opposite direction, you could counteract gravity. That should be achievable.

Regulus pondered these comparisons, and another thought popped into his head: what if he applied it to combat?

Fiery Flame is a source of power, but it is also dark magic.

If you spill some, let it get out of control, and given its speed, could it cover the entire UK in an hour?

The distance between the north and south of Britain is about 1,000 kilometers. At his current speed, he could cross Britain in less than an hour.

If they fly and scatter Fiercefire, letting the flames spread behind them, a third of Britain could be covered in Fiercefire within an hour.

If they flew faster, and if the fire spread more fiercely, the whole of Britain would be covered in just two or three hours.

What about Europe?

Europe is about 3,000 kilometers from north to south and about 5,000 kilometers from east to west. At his current speed, it would take him three to five hours to cross it.

If Fiery Blaze were allowed to burn wherever it went, most of Europe would be engulfed in flames within a single day.

Regulus thought about these things, then shook his head, saying it was just a thought.

To truly achieve this, countless problems must be solved first: controlling the Fiery Blaze, maintaining the magic's power, and one's own endurance.

Moreover, what's the point of doing something like this?

Destruction is easy, but what happens afterward?

He didn't think any further, lay down, closed his eyes, and thought it was time to sleep.

Then he suddenly realized that something seemed to be missing from the dormitory.

It's Hermes; that guy didn't come back tonight.

Regulus's lips twitched. Oh well, never mind him.

go to bed.

The last scene flashes by: Voldemort flying ahead, with him chasing after him.

She caught up with him, walked side by side, turned her head and smiled at him.

Voldemort, I want you to fly with me.

He fell asleep while thinking about this scene.

......

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, not far from where Regulus had just landed.

Dumbledore stood under the old oak tree, looking at the lights of the castle in the distance. The moonlight shone from behind him, turning his long white beard a pale silver.

Professor McGonagall stood beside him, her expression serious: "Albus."

Dumbledore turned his head to the side.

"Horace, Philius, and Pomona were all coming," McGonagall said. "I persuaded them to go back."

Dumbledore said gently, "Thank you for your hard work, Minerva."

McGonagall looked in that direction deep into the Forbidden Forest. Regulus had already gone far away, but she could still sense the lingering magic from before.

"That's Fiery Blaze," she said.

Dumbledore nodded without saying a word.

McGonagall continued, "He's using Fiendfire. He's a second-year student, using Fiendfire in the Forbidden Forest at night, Albus. That's too dangerous."

Dumbledore looked at her, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Minerva, are you worried about him?"

McGonagall took a deep breath: "I'm worried that his talent is too high. Mr. Black's abilities in Transfiguration..."

He wasn't even learning Transfiguration anymore; he was contemplating the essence of Transfiguration. Do you know what that means?

Dumbledore said gently, "I know."

McGonagall looked at him: "The Fiery Blaze he used just now, you and I both know how dangerous that thing is. If it's not controlled properly, the entire Forbidden Forest could be burned down."

Moreover, what was he using Fiendfire for? Flight? What kind of flight was that? Armored by a Charm, powered by Fiendfire—that's something a normal wizard wouldn't even think of.

Dumbledore maintained his usual expression, gentle and calm: "Minerva, do you think something's wrong?"

McGonagall frowned. "You think this is normal?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I find it very interesting."

He looked toward the Forbidden Forest: "Sculpt the Ironclad Charm into the required shape, power it with Fiendfire, and fly at that speed."

This isn't something a normal wizard would come up with, that's true, but this child isn't a normal wizard to begin with.

McGonagall was silent for a moment: "Albus, he uses Fiendfire."

Dumbledore said, "I know."

McGonagall further emphasized, "Fiendfire is dark magic."

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded firmly.

"Aren't you worried?" McGonagall pressed.

Dumbledore turned to her and said, "Minerva, you've been teaching him for a year. Do you think he's a child who can be controlled by dark magic?"