Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

The second weekend of December, the House of Requirement.

Regulus sat in his private hut, a small lamp floating above his head, its light not spreading but illuminating only his small area, while the surroundings were completely dark, with only the outline of the walls visible.

He is practicing spatial transformation.

He's been practicing this since the start of last semester, almost five months now, and he's still far from being able to use it properly.

The preparation time was too long, and the fluctuations in space and magic were too intense. Before the transformation was even complete, the other side already knew what he was going to do.

It's too easy to dodge, or to interrupt with a spell. Once his magical balance is broken, the space bounces back on its own, making it a waste of effort.

Even if you could do what Professor McGonagall did and shatter the injected spell, it wouldn't make much difference.

To break the spell aimed at him, spatial warp is clearly more practical.

If the opponent's spell is halfway through its flight, he can open a channel to redirect it elsewhere, or even send it directly back to the opponent's face. Isn't that easier than painstakingly maintaining a transformation zone?

The current stage of spatial deformation is that it looks good but is awkward to use.

Regulus leaned against the wall, staring at the swirling mass of air in front of him; this wasn't what he truly wanted.

What he wanted was to transform instantly, and the target didn't need to be large, just a small area on a person's body.

Head, or arms, or legs—think carefully, anywhere else will do.

The space twisted, and the head twisted with it, bones broke, blood vessels tore, and muscles twisted into a knot.

You can fly there without using spells, without worrying about whether the Ironclad Curse can block it; the transformation directly affects the target, without any intermediate process.

After Professor McGonagall's demonstration that day, she gave him some ideas and showed him which direction to take, but knowing and doing are two different things.

He began to try, spreading his senses out and staring at the palm-sized space in front of him.

He could feel its structure, that subtle tension that was almost imperceptible, like a net stretched to its limit, ready to shrink back at any moment.

That's the elasticity of space; it's something tangible, right in front of him, touchable by his magic.

But perceiving is one thing, grasping is another.

He extended his magic, trying to envelop the elasticity and transform it as an independent target.

But you can't grasp it; it seems to be just that nature of it. The more you try to grasp it, the less you can.

I tried more than ten times, but it still didn't work.

Regulus stopped and began to think.

Professor McGonagall was able to do it because her magical power, the precision of her transformations, her understanding of space, and most importantly, her understanding of the fundamental art of transfiguration, all far surpassed his.

She could use magic to suppress that elasticity and forcibly deform it, but he couldn't.

Let's try a different approach. If we can't grasp it, we won't; let's try to push it aside.

He condensed the magic into thin threads, passed them through the middle, and then pushed them to both sides.

It worked; a crack was created in that elasticity.

The gap is very small and exists for an extremely short time, so short that it can be almost ignored.

But in that instant, the space lost its impulse to return to its original state; it became relaxed, soft, and at his mercy.

Taking advantage of this opening, Regulus poured in magic and twisted the space to the left.

The space deforms smoothly and without resistance.

Then the elasticity returned, and the space bounced back to its original position; the whole process took less than half a second.

Regulus leaned against the wall, eyes closed, his temples throbbing and his forehead throbbing.

That last move took a lot of his energy.

Magic perception, spatial perception, magic control, and mental will—all four must operate simultaneously; none can be missing.

One must have keen perception to find that elasticity, precise control to pry it open, and strong will to complete the transformation in that instant.

The consumption is outrageously high.

He sat there resting for about ten minutes before slowly recovering and then continuing.

This time it was a little faster. It pried open, deformed, and was done. It still bounced back in less than half a second, but the deformation was a bit greater than before.

Come again.

The speed of the prying apart increased, the deformation became smoother, and the gap created by the elasticity seemed to be a little larger than before, and it lasted a little longer.

Come again.

For the entire afternoon, Regulus stayed in the hut practicing this repeatedly: splitting open, transforming, waiting for it to recover, splitting open again, and transforming again.

Later, he was able to complete the entire set of movements in one second, with the deformation range stabilizing within the size of a fist, and he could twist it to half a turn.

There was no visible change in appearance; it was still spatial deformation. However, the elasticity had indeed been processed, enough to allow external magic to participate.

Regulus withdrew his hand and leaned back against the wall.

His head was still a little throbbing, but it was much better than before. He closed his eyes to rest for a while, then stood up and pushed the door open to go out.

On the training field, Avery and Alex are competing against each other.

The two were about ten meters apart, exchanging spells back and forth, making quite a scene.

Avery unleashed a barrage of spells, one after another.

Alex didn't confront him head-on. He dodged two attacks by sidestepping, took one hit with the Ironclad Charm, and then threw out an Obstacle Charm from the side.

Avery was grazed on the shoulder, staggered a couple of steps to the side, steadied himself, cursed, and retaliated.

Both of them had sweat on their faces and their robes were wrinkled, but their eyes were very bright.

Hermes sat in a corner by the training field, legs crossed, arms resting on his knees, head bowed, as if asleep.

He didn't watch the two fight, nor did he practice magic. He just sat there, his breathing and magic power steady, as if he had entered a low-consumption standby state.

When Regulus came out of the hut, Hermes followed suit.

He raised his head, opened his eyes, and his previously steady magic power seemed to have been switched on, instantly becoming active and flowing through his body, ready to erupt at any moment.

He switched from standby mode to combat mode.

Regulus glanced at him and knew that Hermes wanted to fight him again.

He trained harder than anyone else these past few months. When his magic was depleted, he would train his physical strength, and when his physical strength was depleted, he would wait for his magic to recover before continuing to train.

He wanted to become stronger, and even more so, he wanted to know just how big the gap was.

So I just waited there, maintained my composure, and waited until I came out.

Regulus looked away, not in a hurry to pay attention to him.

He walked to a bench by the training field, sat down, took out his wand from his pocket, and held it in his hand.

Hermes stood up, took two steps toward her, then stopped. He opened his mouth but made no sound.

Avery and Alex noticed Regulus had come out, stopped chanting their spells, and walked over.

Avery wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve and asked, panting, "Finished practice for today?"

Regulus nodded: "Yes."

Alex sat down next to him, unscrewed the water bottle cap, drank some water, and then handed it to Avery, who slapped it away with a look of disgust.

Hermes was still standing a few steps away, his gaze fixed on Regulus's face. He didn't say anything, just watched.

Regulus glanced at him: "Wait a little longer."

Hermes nodded, stepped back, stood against the wall with his arms crossed, and never took his eyes off Regulus.

Avery looked at Hermes, then at Regulus, as if to ask something, but Alex tugged at his sleeve, making him swallow his words.

After resting for about twenty minutes, Regulus stood up and walked to the row of wooden dummies in the middle of the training field.

The dummy is about 1.8 meters tall, made of wood, and has magic circuits carved on its surface, which can simulate basic wizarding reactions.

It is usually used to practice the accuracy and power of spells. If it is damaged, a repair spell can be used to fix it and it can be used again.

Regulus stood three meters away from the leftmost dummy.

He raised his wand, the tip pointing at the dummy's head.

Perception spreads out, locking onto the small space where the dummy's head is located, finding elasticity, magic condenses into fine threads, passes through the middle, and pushes to both sides.

The next moment, a gap appeared.

The space where the dummy's head was located instantly lost its elasticity, and Regulus's magic surged in, twisting that space to the left.

The dummy's head spun around halfway through the space, the wooden structure cracking and splintering as cracks spread from the neck to the head, splinters exploded, and fragments flew in all directions.

The whole process took less than half a second. The space bounced back to its original position, and the dummy's head was gone.

Above the neck, there was only an irregular crack, with jagged wood stumps and a crooked cross-section, as if something had stirred it up from the inside.

Regulus put down his wand, took two steps back, and sat down on the bench.

Avery stood to the side, his mouth slightly agape.

He saw Regulus point his wand, and the space around the dummy's head seemed to twist, then the head shattered, but he didn't understand why.

Alex didn't understand either. He wasn't even sure if Regulus had cast a spell or not. When the wand was pointed at the dummy, no light came out from the tip of the wand, nothing at all, and then the dummy's head exploded.

The two looked at each other, both seeing confusion in each other's eyes, but neither asked.

Regulus was so exhausted that he sat on the bench with his eyes closed, his forehead covered in a fine sheen of sweat. It wouldn't be appropriate to ask him anything at that moment.

The two walked over and sat down next to him, one on his left and one on his right.

Alex glanced at Regulus, saw that he had his eyes closed and was not speaking, then looked away and lowered his head to play with his wand, twirling it between his fingers.

Avery couldn't sit still. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his fingers clasped together. He would change his posture every now and then, and then change it again after a while.

The two started whispering to each other.

Avery poked Alex with his wand, and Alex poked him back.

Alex glared at him, and Avery grinned, but neither of them said a word.

Regulus didn't open his eyes or move. He just sat there, breathing steadily, as if he were resting or thinking.

Hermes stood a few steps away, his pupils contracting slightly.

He couldn't figure out what Regulus had done either. There was no spell light, no magical fluctuation, and not even a casting motion; it was just a tap.

But he sensed it.

The moment the space around the dummy's head distorted, he sensed something extremely dangerous.

Even from that distance, I could feel a chill run down my spine, and my hand was already on the wand handle.

Avery and Alex's understanding of Regulus's power remained at the level of skill.

The speed, accuracy, power, and combat awareness of spells are all things that can be seen, imitated, and mastered through practice.

They thought Regulus was powerful because he knew a lot, practiced ruthlessly, and was intelligent.

But Hermes vaguely sensed something else; Regulus's magic was on a different level from his own.

He walked over to the bench and sat down on the other side of Regulus.

The four people sat side by side, and no one spoke.

Avery and Alex continued whispering across Regulus from the other end of the bench, their movements quiet and not disturbing him.

Hermes sat on the far side, his arm draped over his knee, his gaze lowered, lost in thought.

Regulus closed his eyes, mentally reviewing what had just happened.

There are still many problems if we want to use this method in actual combat.

First, there's the distance. He was standing three meters in front of the dummy, and it took him almost two seconds to lock onto the target and complete the transformation.

In actual combat, the opponent will not stand within three meters waiting for him, much less give him two seconds to prepare.

Secondly, there's the issue of locking onto a dummy. If the dummy doesn't move, it's easy to lock onto it, but a real person can move, hide, and cast spells to interfere.

Locating the spatial location of a moving target becomes several times more difficult.

Then there's the cost; just now, I twisted and crushed a wooden head, and that's how he ended up like this.

If it were a real person, the cost would at least double.

But if all of these can be resolved—

Regulus opened his eyes and looked at the headless dummy in front of him.

The value of this method lies in the fact that it has no process; as long as the spatial deformation acts on the target, the opponent has no chance to dodge.

The only limitation is his own skill level; he still needs to practice.

Twenty minutes later, Regulus stood up, stretched his shoulders, and felt much better.

Hermes also stood up. He didn't speak, but the light in his eyes was already impossible to hide.

Regulus looked at him, a slight smile playing on his lips: "How do you want to compete?"