Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 261 Regulus's View on Power

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Regulus didn't rush to answer; he was also thinking about what true power was.

He actually thinks about this problem a lot.

He didn't have a single ready-made answer in his mind, but he had a whole set of ideas that were taking shape: a concept of power.

According to Regulus, magical power can be viewed in several levels.

The first level is conventional strength.

Dumbledore and Voldemort, one could even say, represent two top-level understandings of power in the wizarding world: one walks in the light, the other is shrouded in darkness.

Wherever there are wizards on Earth, there should be no one who hasn't heard of their reputation.

Even if there are shamans in the Democratic Republic of Congo, hiding deep in the rainforest, competing with monkeys for fruit, and having little contact with the outside world, they should have heard these two names from the occasional passing traveler.

A white wizard and a dark wizard, both paths have reached their peak.

When Regulus first had an in-depth discussion about magic with Dumbledore, Dumbledore mentioned an idea.

Let magic do things on its own, and let the world do things for you.

Regulus sometimes thought that perhaps everything Dumbledore knew could be achieved through magic.

After all, the world is helping him.

He believed in love, and love became his strength; he believed in light, and light obeyed him.

If I had to describe the feeling, it was like the heavens and earth were conspiring with me when the time was right.

Voldemort is another direction.

Regulus had never seen Voldemort, but he could speculate.

Voldemort was terrified of death, so much so that he went mad and tore his own soul to pieces, hiding them in various objects.

He used magic to its fullest extent, to a degree that others wouldn't even dare to imagine, tearing apart souls and transcending death.

Dumbledore once said that no one has gone further down the path of the Dark Arts than Voldemort.

Regulus believed it, of course, but he felt that the key to the statement lay not in black magic, but in the distant past.

According to Regulus, Voldemort probably believed that magic should have no boundaries, or at least that boundaries are meant to be broken.

He believed that magic could be pushed further, to heights that others dared not even imagine, and he was the one who pushed it forward.

Magic opened up a new path for him, because he had the courage and the ability.

These are the two directions that Regulus see as conventionally powerful: Dumbledore gets the world to help him, and Voldemort pushes magic to its limits.

The second level is the path Regulus himself is walking.

What he had in his mind was different from that of most wizards.

He possesses the magical knowledge of the wizarding world, the scientific knowledge of Muggles, and a broader worldview, but it only exists in his imagination.

Those things are neither scientific nor magical; they're purely imaginative. Some are absurd, some are outrageous, and some are so ridiculous that even I find them laughable.

The three sets of ideas swirled and fought in his mind, giving rise to things that wizards would never even consider.

For example, spatial magic.

He can now perform spatial warp, spatial networks, and spatial anchor points. He can create a temporary passage in space and has even touched the edge of spatial deformation.

But in his view, these are all just preparations. What he really wants to do is use spatial magic on a cosmic scale.

Warp drive, warp propulsion, or more directly, space travel, jumping from one galaxy to another without any intermediate steps, just one step.

The speed of light is too slow. Compared to the universe, the speed of light is no different from a snail crawling.

But space is different; space itself can be folded, distorted, and utilized.

If you can control the space, distance is not a problem.

And that formula, E=mc², not only can it be used to create explosions, it itself reveals the passage between magic and physics.

Magic can be transformed into and out of the material world; magic can do what physics can do, and even do it more thoroughly.

For example, light magic.

What he can do now is use light to convey emotions, making the target's brain treat the external information as its own thoughts.

But if we continue down that path, light will no longer be just a carrier; it can also be information itself, a weapon itself, or a concept itself.

Even further, one could weave oneself into the light, or become the light.

He had many more of these ideas, each of which required the involvement of magic, but the underlying logic was often physical and mathematical.

These are all ways to make magic do what physics can do, and even what physics cannot do, and then do it faster, farther, and more thoroughly.

He told Dumbledore, "Make magic more like magic." Perhaps the old man didn't understand, or perhaps he understood but didn't take it seriously, or perhaps he thought it was just a child talking big.

But this is his requirement for himself: not to turn magic into physics, but to give magic the certainty and scalability of physics, while retaining its own flexibility and infinity.

Then there's the third, other forms of power, such as the ability to choose.

Dumbledore chose to believe in love, Voldemort chose to transcend death, and Grindelwald chose the greater good.

Every choice brings power, or rather, power enables them to make that choice.

Regulus couldn't say for sure which came first or which came later, but he knew that the choice itself was a manifestation of power.

For a powerless person, choices are cheap, because even if they choose, they cannot do it.

But for powerful people, choices carry weight; once a choice is made, the consequences must be borne.

Because every choice comes at a price, and every choice involves giving up something else.

Dumbledore gave up readily available power for his choice and lived a lonely life.

Voldemort abandoned everything about being human in order to make his choice, turning himself into something neither human nor ghost.

Grindelwald gave up his freedom for his choice and was imprisoned in the tallest tower of Nurmengard.

The moment they made their choice, they had already blocked all other paths.

But Regulus felt that true strength was probably the ability to make choices and bear the consequences of those choices.

Another example is the level of cognition.

Regulus increasingly felt that true strength was not about being able to defeat anyone, but about being able to see things that others could not.

Cognition determines the upper limit.

His understanding of magic, his understanding of the world, and his understanding of himself will determine where he can go.

Magic can be practiced, spells can be learned, but knowledge cannot be acquired through mere effort.

It requires experience, reflection, and someone pointing you in the right direction before you walk there yourself.

Finally, the ability to not be defined.

Dumbledore was defined by light, Voldemort by fear; they were both confined by their own definitions.

It seems that once you've made a choice, you can't change it.

Regulus didn't want that; he didn't want to be defined; he wanted the freedom to choose.

Therefore, he needs power, even greater power.

He stopped thinking about it and pulled himself out of his thoughts. Sirius was still leaning against the railing, waiting for him to speak.

He couldn't possibly voice all those thoughts he had just had. Some things he could only tell himself, and some things he couldn't even think about too deeply.

But he can tell Sirius some things.

Regulus spoke casually: "You think true power is about being able to defeat someone, protect someone, and make others afraid to mess with you. That's true, but that's only part of power, not the whole thing."

Sirius didn't speak, waiting for him to continue.

Regulus asked, "Do you know why you were able to leave the Black family?"

Sirius straightened up abruptly, turned to look at him, his expression somewhat explosive: "Of course I relied on myself—"

"Is your family pursuing you?" Regulus interrupted him.

Sirius Black's words caught in his throat.

Regulus glanced at him, then changed the subject, saying, "Now you know why I took that bone box."

Sirius lowered his eyes and nodded very slightly.

"Why was Voldemort able to do that?" Regulus continued, "He didn't even have to show himself to make me choose that way."

Sirius's lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

"Dumbledore too," Regulus said. "He doesn't even need to show his face to make many people make the choices he wants."

Sirius remained silent.

Regulus said calmly, "That is power."

Sirius remained silent, and Regulus said nothing more.

After a moment of silence, Sirius finally spoke, his voice very soft: "You once told me to try all the magic I could get my hands on and see which area I could improve in the fastest."

Regulus glanced at him sideways, then looked away.

"I've found it," Sirius continued, "Transfiguration."

Regulus gave a soft "hmm".

"Professor McGonagall said I have form intuition, that it's a talent." Sirius's tone was a little awkward. "I've been practicing, and I'm improving pretty quickly, you saw it just now."

Regulus said, "I see it, not bad."

Sirius's lips curled up slightly, then quickly fell back down.

He paused for a moment, then spoke casually, as if it were something he had thought of unintentionally: "Does that thing affect you?"

Regulus knew what he was asking and countered, "What do you think?"

Sirius looked up and glanced at him.

Regulus stood there, leaning on the railing, his face expressionless, without any trace of dark magic, without that corrupted gloom, nothing at all.

Sirius clicked his tongue, pursed his lips, and looked away. He could tell that Regulus didn't seem to be affected.

After a moment of silence, Sirius cleared his throat, his tone relaxed but still a little unnatural: "What was that spatial distortion you were doing in the office just now?"

Regulus looked out the window, a slight smile playing on his lips: "Spatial distortion."

Sirius grinned, his voice tinged with impatience but not anger: "I know it's spatial distortion. I mean, how difficult is that thing?"

Regulus turned to look at him, and asked again, "What do you think?"

Sirius was speechless. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. The expression on his face changed from frustration to defiance, and from defiance to resignation.

Sirius was speechless. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. The expression on his face changed from frustration to defiance, and from defiance to resignation.

Regulus stopped beating around the bush, but didn't say how difficult it was either: "First, learn Apparition, or you can catch a house-elf."

Sirius was taken aback: "Catch a house-pom? Those things can Apparate faster than anyone else, how are you going to catch them?"

Regulus didn't tell him how to catch it. Whether he could catch it or not wasn't the key. The key was whether he could sense the space.

"Spatial transformation requires a sense of space, and Apparition is the most basic introduction," he said. "As for catching Pokémon, that might be a bit too difficult for you."

Sirius's lips twitched; he wanted to retort, but couldn't find a point to make.

He snorted and looked away.

The windowsill fell silent again.

Regulus pulled his hand off the railing and brushed off non-existent dust from his robe: "Time to eat."

He turned and walked towards the corridor.

Sirius stood there for a moment, then caught up.

The two walked one after the other, their footsteps echoing on the stone wall. As they neared the stairs, Sirius asked, "How old were you when you learned Apparition?"

Regulus said, "Eleven years old."

Sirius paused for a moment, then continued walking.

The two went down the stairs and turned into the main corridor, where the torches were more numerous and brighter than upstairs, making the stone walls appear yellowish.

The sounds of voices from the auditorium drifted from afar, mingling with the clinking of cutlery, creating a steamy atmosphere.

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