Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 314 Soul Tremor

Voldemort continued deeper, his will unwavering and his goal clear, like turning the next page of a book with his fingertips, wondering what lay ahead.

The needle tip became a fingertip, the contact area increased, and the force required to press in was greater.

Regulus's Occlumency briefly touched the boundary, a symbolic gesture that made Voldemort sense the presence of defense.

Then he let go.

He knew who the other person was.

There's no point in stubbornly holding off every layer of defense in front of Voldemort; it will only make him want to look even further inside.

He symbolically blocked it, then stepped back, like a young Occlumency practitioner reacting normally to an invasion far beyond his capabilities.

There is defense, but it cannot be defended; if it cannot be defended, then there is no defense; if it cannot be resisted, then there is no resistance.

Voldemort's advance remained gentle; he did not violently break through or forcibly crush the defensive structure.

He pressed his fingertip against it, and resistance appeared. He applied a little more pressure, and the resistance subsided, allowing him to go in.

In this tactic, Regulus sensed an attempt to win him over.

Voldemort could have forced his way through, but he didn't. He gave him room to retreat and room to preserve his dignity.

I'm coming in to take a look, but I won't tear down your house.

This tactic is Voldemort-esque in itself, with dominance hidden beneath gentleness, and control disguised as tenderness.

As Voldemort went further in, he found something else: Regulus's memories of Dumbledore's magical perception.

This was Regulus's arrangement; he placed this memory at this depth, just where Voldemort could easily find it with a few more flips.

It neither hides it deep inside, making people feel that he is concealing something, nor puts it on the outside, making people feel that he is showing it off.

It's in a natural location; you'll see it as you walk in, but you won't feel like it was placed there specifically for anyone to see.

Voldemort saw it; the two pieces of sensory memory were placed side by side.

Voldemort's magic, at this moment, is experiencing real-time perception, a dimensional void, an existence beyond the reach of perception, tremors deep within his bones, and an unfathomable depth felt at the level of his soul.

Dumbledore's magic is like the ocean—boundless, calm yet profound. Standing beside it makes you feel safe; it provides feedback that is stable and warm.

It lets people know it's there, lets people know they can rely on it.

There is no judgment between the two memories, no stronger or better, no label of light or darkness.

It's just two perceptions, about magic itself, of equal weight and equally pure.

They were placed on the same plane by Regulus.

Regulus's thoughts raced through the gaps in Voldemort's Legilimency.

He knew what Voldemort was looking for: Dumbledore's trail.

Black's heir, who had spent over a year at Hogwarts, displayed magical talent far beyond his years.

Did Dumbledore plant anything in his heart? Did he try to win him over? Did he use his ideology to turn him into one of his own?

Dumbledore would do this kind of thing, and so would Voldemort.

Two wizards standing at the pinnacle of this world, each using their own methods, attempt to shape valuable young souls, only their methods differ.

Dumbledore used guidance, inspiration, gentle dialogue, and well-timed silence.

Voldemort used power, seduction, gradual corruption, and an irresistible presence.

But the essence is the same.

Regulus chose to let Voldemort see the answer for himself, and the answer was in that parallel structure.

Dumbledore's magical senses weren't hidden; they were right there, which shows that he didn't consider his contact with Dumbledore something to be concealed.

He didn't hide anything.

If you want to see it, then see it. I've placed it at this depth; you can find it by flipping through it. I didn't hand it to you proactively, but I didn't forcefully stop you from flipping through either.

The two perceptions are placed on the same plane, without any difference in height or bias, indicating that he did not lean towards either side.

This positioning is more offensive than worship; it implies equality.

A twelve-year-old wizard mistook two of the most powerful wizards for two exhibits in the same category.

But it's safer than provocation; it's wrapped in respect.

This is a boy with an extreme sensitivity to magic, an instinctive perception of two extreme powers—authentic, pure, and unbiased.

Voldemort may feel offended, but he cannot say that Regulus is lying, because those things are all true.

Voldemort lingered there for a while longer.

Then I pushed it in further, with more force, from my fingertips to my palm.

Regulus sensed a real threat, and the structure of the Occlumency technique trembled in his mental space.

The pressure penetrates from the outer layer, pushing deeper into the interior.

Deeper inside is the core area, where things that cannot be seen are located.

He poured all his mental energy into it, the stars in his Star Orbit Meditation were running at full speed, and the structural defenses were stretched to their limit.

Each layer of techniques in the Occupational Therapy involves the simultaneous activation of thought folding, spatial topology, and false paths.

The entrances to the core area are scattered and hidden, making it impossible for any consciousness attempting to penetrate them to find its way.

Voldemort pressed his palm down, but didn't apply any more force; he was sensing the sensation.

At that very moment, Regulus's mind reacted.

Inside the containment chamber, something locked deep within the quarantine area stirred.

The gray substance remained motionless; those were just the filtered-out impurities, the usable portion.

What's truly stirring is the deeper core, the original form of Dark Inspiration—those things that haven't been filtered, diluted, and retain the original imprint of Voldemort's spirit.

They boiled.

The walls of the containment chamber were shaking, and crack-like marks appeared on the solidified defensive surface inside.

The dark knowledge entity sealed at the innermost part, the original form of mental pollution, and the pure concept of domination and oppression, resonated with the magic of Voldemort's true form.

The copy encountered the original, like a magnet approaching iron filings.

The creatures trapped in the cage desperately tried to escape, rushing towards Voldemort. They wanted to go back and reunite with the original body.

Regulus's design stood the test of time.

The containment chamber's multiple layers of protection—filters, solidification defenses, the buffer of the virtual personality, and the standby of the destruction program—were pushed to their limits under the resonant impact, but were not breached.

Those things rushed to the inside of the barrier, were blocked, surged a few times, and were pushed back by the solidified defenses inside.

It hasn't reached the point where the destruction process needs to be initiated.

But in that instant, he felt the deepest part of the Dark Enlightenment surging within him.

It's not gray; it's a darker color.

Domination, oppression, devouring; an instinctive contempt for the weak; a mad thirst for the boundaries of power.

These concepts do not exist in the form of words or images; they are in a more primal state, like an emotion compressed to its extreme, with extremely high density.

The moment he touched it, Regulus even felt that those things were exactly what he wanted.

He wanted to control everything, he wanted to be above everyone, and he wanted to live forever.

The feeling of immortality was particularly strong; Regulus knew it was Voldemort's doing, the deepest imprint on the core of the Dark Awakening.

It lies beneath all other concepts, like a foundation supporting the domination and oppression above.

The containment chamber's safety mechanisms held them in place, but the shockwaves generated by their surge penetrated the barrier and reached deeper into the mental space.

Deeper still, something else reacted, and Betelgeuse lit up.

In the core area of ​​the spiritual space, between those deepest sealed memories and soul reflections, the light of Betelgeuse suddenly intensified by a level.

The steady, constant light burst forth for a moment, like a heart suddenly skipping a beat, before immediately returning to its normal rhythm.

There was a reason for that; it was responding.

But the response wasn't Voldemort's invasion; Voldemort's hand was still pressed against that boundary, separated by several layers of structural defense.

It responds to the shockwave that penetrates the barrier when the core of Dark Enlightenment surges, the light deep within the soul reacting to the activation of the dark power within.

The other stars also rippled slightly. The little soul figure stood quietly in the core area, its outline becoming clearer at that moment, as if illuminated from within by light.

The imagery of a guardian deity and a starry kite swept through the depths of my consciousness like a blurry shadow.

Regulus instantly suppressed all his reactions.

The light of Betelgeuse was forcibly restored to its normal brightness, the fluctuations of other stars were stabilized, the changes of the soul figures, the flashes of the guardian deity's reflections—all these things happening in the deepest depths were instantly sealed away.

Even the feeling of that instant was stuffed into the core area's defensive structure, locked away with the deepest memories.

The whole process took only a moment; the defenses in the core area closed again without any gaps.

Voldemort sensed the vibrations in the containment chamber; it was something he had created, a copy responding to the original, and he could recognize it.

But he didn't go in after the vibrations traveled deeper.

He paused in his current position for a moment, then withdrew his hand.

Perhaps he could push further in, perhaps with enough force he could crush all the defenses and search every corner.

But he didn't; he left.

The process was as silent as the entry; the palm opened, the fingertips withdrew, and the foreign will belonging to Voldemort disappeared from the mental space.

Regulus's mental space returned to calm.

He maintained a slightly bowed, respectful posture, his expression unchanged from beginning to end.

The entire process, which might only take a few seconds in reality, was the most intense mental operation he had ever experienced, more exhausting than all the battles he had just fought combined.

He never truly fought Voldemort from beginning to end; all he did was manipulate him.

Arrange the outer layer, manage visible information, maintain core defense, and simultaneously handle the resonance of the containment chamber and the eruption of Betelgeuse at the moment of the third enhancement.

Then, in a very short time, all the deep reactions are sealed away.

The precision and speed of these operations have pushed his abilities to the limit.

He didn't show it.

In the ruins, illuminated by moonlight and firelight, the twelve-year-old heir of the Black family stood upright, breathing steadily.