Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 365 Spatial Passage and the Second Fierce Fire Flight

Regulus spread his protective will into the surrounding space.

Try inviting them first, like you did at Hogwarts, by bringing the guardian image out of the spiritual world and placing it into the space with goodwill.

The space neither responded nor rejected, because the space here has no will.

Acceptance and rejection are non-existent concepts for it; it is empty.

He stopped inviting people and simply integrated himself into the group.

The will to protect surged forth, without any probing or benevolent packaging, and pushed directly into the surrounding space.

It went in with a single push, without any resistance.

The image of protection permeates the surrounding space, the space contains it, and the will to protect becomes an attribute of the space itself.

Regulus sensed the space around him.

Unlike spatial perception, which detects what, space itself provides feedback to it.

Within a radius of about five or six meters around him, the space became an extension of him.

The movement of the wind, the airflow created by the flapping wings of seagulls as they skim over the cliff, the swaying of withered grass leaves underfoot in the wind—all of these are clearly perceptible.

He integrates his perception into the environment, and the environment itself becomes his perspective.

He twitched the corner of his mouth.

What took so long at Hogwarts took only a few minutes here.

It turned out to be the case.

The problem was never with him; in a different natural environment, everything made sense.

Regulus began testing the application.

First, there's spatial folding.

Holding the wand in an arc with one hand, the standard gesture for spatial warping involves three steps: sensing the target, guiding the magic to fold, and then stabilizing the passage.

He simply pinched a small area and shortened the distance between the two points.

Performing this operation at Hogwarts would present some spatial resistance, requiring a continuous infusion of magic to maintain.

Here, once you've folded it and released your hand, the space remains folded and doesn't spring back; no extra force is needed to hold it down.

It's not effortless, but it's not exactly effortless either. Folding itself consumes the same amount of magic power, and what's saved is the energy required for maintenance.

Then there are spatial anchor points.

He set up two anchor points in the space, one under his feet and the other next to a rock ten meters away.

The anchor point is steady and secure, the space is neither contested nor contested, whatever he places there will be accepted.

At Hogwarts, the anchor point needs constant magical nourishment to maintain itself. The castle's space is flexible, constantly pulling the anchored area back, and he has to hold it down with force.

He could do the same at Hogwarts. The castle's space wasn't exactly friendly to him, but it wasn't so bad that he couldn't even set up an anchor point.

There, the anchor points support a spatial network, a closed-loop channel for the flow of spells, not a place for people to walk.

Things are different now. The will to protect has been integrated into the space here, and the space itself has acquired the attribute of protection.

If he folds space between the two anchor points, the Guardian Will can fill the gaps in the folds and support it.

Previously, at Hogwarts, spells could only travel through the network because they weren't afraid of getting stuck halfway.

People are different; they need absolute stability. Now that we have the will to protect them, this premise is established.

He increased the distance between the two anchor points to twenty meters, thirty meters, and fifty meters.

He then opened a spatial passage between the two anchor points.

After spatial folding, the distance between two points approaches zero, so theoretically, one step is enough to cross the distance.

But the folded space has thickness, and the area that is stretched open by the will to protect is more like the extremely narrow slit between two mirrors put together.

He focused his protective will on the anchor point fifty meters away, corresponding to the anchor point under his feet, and then activated spatial folding.

The two points are aligned.

From the outside, it looks like a crack standing upright in the air.

It was about the height of a person, with irregular edges, and a faint, silvery-white, soft glow, originating from the same source as the light of his guardian deity.

Looking through the crack, you can see rocks and withered grass on the other side, and the sea further away.

The image was shaky, like looking through a heatwave.

The two places overlapped, separated by a step.

He looked at the crack, his magical and spatial senses covering it together to examine its structure.

The edges of the passage were enveloped by the will of protection, and a silvery-white light clung evenly to the inner walls, without any weak points.

The interior space is well supported and shows no signs of collapse.

The will to protect filled the gaps, and the space itself gave him feedback: stability, security, and an indescribable sense of peace.

His protectors will, of course, protect him.

Then he let Starry Sky Kite wear it first.

On the distant sea, the Starry Sky Kite turned around and flew back, folding its wings and swooping down, its silver light condensing into a line that crashed straight into the crack.

The moment I entered, silver light seeped in from the edge of the crack, illuminating the entire crack for a moment.

Then it emerged from the exit at the other end, its wings unfurled, circled above the rock, landed, and tilted its head to look at Regulus.

Regulus stepped inside.

There's a solid feeling underfoot, as if I'm standing on a space supported by the will to protect, with a sense of support.

The inner walls on both sides are glowing, silvery-white and soft, and the texture of the space itself can be seen through the light.

Like creases left after space has been folded, fibrous and finely interwoven, they shimmer with a translucent gray under the silvery light.

The crack was very narrow, about two steps wide, and you could see rocks, withered grass, and a gray-blue sky fifty meters away from the exit.

He took a step.

The exit unfolded before my eyes, and with another step, I was already standing next to the rocks fifty meters away.

He looked back and saw that the passage was still there. He could clearly see the edge of the cliff and the grass on the other side of the entrance, as if looking out from a picture frame through the silvery-white crack.

He took one step and passed by.

Regulus fell into thought.

If this passage can be secured, it becomes a door; wherever anchor points can be placed, the door can be opened.

Unaffected by the Anti-Apparition Charm, requiring no fireplace network, no door keys, leaving no traceable magical trail, and completely private.

If the distance can be extended to the level of crossing cities, this would be a teleportation network unique to him.

If the passage can be fixed, it will become a permanent strategic node, and its depth capability will be terrifyingly strong.

You can open one in Grimmauld Place, one in Hogwarts, or even one in the Ministry of Magic.

All ministries of magic, one for each.

Currently, only he can go on his own because the Guardian Will only recognizes him. But if this restriction is lifted in the future, allowing others to pass through as well, then that would be a military-level strategic airlift capability.

One hundred wizards enter from point A and emerge simultaneously from point B, without any intermediate process; they open as soon as they land. Who can withstand that?

What if it's further away?

There is no upper limit to the distance of spatial folding. As long as there is enough magic and the anchor point is stable, it can be folded as far as it wants.

In theory, doors could also be opened between planets.

But that's too far; he can't even leave Earth right now.

Regulus noted the direction, stopped thinking, removed the anchor point, and the passage disappeared.

The silvery-white crack in the air closed up and was sewn back together, leaving no trace, and the space returned to its original state.

Baruch poked his head out of the inner bag, his eight amber eyes fixed on the spot where the passage had disappeared, and his chelicerae clicked.

"..road?"

Regulus patted its spider head and nodded.

"road."

The matter concerning the space has come to an end.

Regulus stood there for a while; the wind was strong, blowing his hair back.

Once you leave Hogwarts, the path opens up.

His abilities hadn't reached any new level; it was just that the environment at Hogwarts was constantly putting pressure on him.

Some things can't be done simply because the location is wrong.

But on the other hand, if one day the space at Hogwarts were to cooperate with him, he would be able to do far more in the castle than here.

The space of Hogwarts has a will and a thousand years of accumulated magic. If it cooperates actively, it is a powerful partner actively working together, which is completely different from an empty container passively receiving.

That would be something on another level.

However, Dumbledore is still alive, so it's not his place to worry about the headmaster's position.

The headmaster of Hogwarts is appointed by the Board of Trustees; it is not a system of succession, nor is it a system where might makes right.

At least not now.

That's thinking too far ahead.

It's time to fly.

Regulus stretched his shoulders and wrists. The spatial test had taken a toll on his mental energy, but not much. After resting for a while, he had almost recovered.

He looked at the sea in front of him, its gray-blue surface stretching to the horizon, the clouds hanging low, and the wind blowing from the west.

In the distance, several seagulls circled on the crest of the waves, gliding motionless with their wings.

Last semester, he flew over the Forbidden Forest for the first time using Fiendfire. He used Ironclad Charm to create a shell, and Fiendfire was sprayed backwards, propelling him forward.

It can fly and is fast, but it's rough.

Unstable direction, turning was forced by magic, the relationship between thrust and airflow was guessed by intuition, and the outer shell of the Ironclad Curse vibrated at high frequency when approaching the speed of sound, almost falling apart.

Now I have more things on my mind.

He hadn't read those books in detail yet, but he had skimmed through the basic concepts of aerodynamics.

Lift, drag, airfoil, angle of attack, thrust line, sweep angle, shock wave, wing loading, induced drag, aspect ratio.

He didn't need to build a real airplane; he just needed to transform the outer shell of the Ironclad Charm from a push-along shell into a shape that could cut through the wind.

He first cast the Ironclad Spell, spreading the magic and beginning to shape it.

The front end is elongated and pointed, and the cross-section of the head changes from a circle to an ellipse, with the curvature of the upper surface being greater than that of the lower surface.

The classic airfoil, convex at the top and flat at the bottom, operates on the most basic lift principle: airflow travels faster on the upper surface and slower on the lower surface, creating a pressure difference that generates lift.

The short wings on both sides have been lengthened, and the wingspan is almost twice as wide as before. The wing surface has been curved, the leading edge is rounded and blunt, and the trailing edge is thinned and tapered, with the airfoil in the shape of a teardrop.

By increasing the aspect ratio, the lift efficiency increases, while the induced drag decreases.

The tail section features a horizontal and vertical tail fin. The horizontal tail fin has a different installation angle than the main wing and is used to balance the pitch moment, while the vertical tail fin is responsible for directional stability.

The nozzle was moved from the rear to a lower position, the thrust line passed through the aircraft's center of gravity, the point of thrust application was aligned with the center of gravity, the torque generated by the thrust approached zero, and the direction became stable.

A narrow slit is left at the wingtip and the trailing edge, with an adjustable opening, which is equivalent to a simplified version of flaps and ailerons.

By adjusting the gap opening to regulate the local airflow velocity, a lift difference is generated, enabling roll and yaw.

He cast two spells on himself: one to reduce shock and the other to resist load.

Last time it flew to over a thousand meters, its internal organs were almost crushed. This time, an extra layer was added to distribute the inertial load as much as possible throughout the body.

A fierce fire surged from his palm, orange-red flames billowing, dark patterns flashing within the tongues of fire, heat drawing inward, drawing the surrounding air towards the flames.

The fiery flames filled in, flowing along the inner wall of the Ironclad Curse, sinking to the bottom, and gathering at the nozzle.

The internal pressure has increased, but the stress distribution on the outer shell is much more uniform than before, and there is no feeling of local overload.

take off.

The flames ignited, and a jet of orange-red liquid shot out from the tail, propelling it upwards.

It feels completely different.

Last time I took off, I was pushed along by the thrust, and it was difficult to control the direction. This time, the lift and thrust were separate.

When the wing surface cuts through the wind, the airflow splits into two paths at the leading edge and merges at the trailing edge, creating an upward force due to the pressure difference.

The raging fire pushes forward, generating a forward force.

The two forces act independently in different directions; he only needs to adjust their ratio.

He flew at a low speed for a while, close to the top of the cliff. The sea breeze was blowing in from the side, and the angle of attack of the wing changed with the airflow. He used magic to fine-tune the curvature of the wing surface and stabilize the lift.

Then accelerate.

As the wingtip slit narrows on one side, the amount of airflow escaping on that side decreases, resulting in significantly more lift than on the other side. This lift difference causes the entire aircraft to tilt towards the side with lower lift, thus changing its direction.

Turn.

The wing surface carried the weight itself, smoothly and stably, with a turning radius less than half that of the last time, no sideslip, and no stall.

He circled once above the cliff, then again, the second circle being 30% faster than the first, the wing surfaces responding in time.

The difference in lift is precisely and instantly determined by the angle adjustment, a completely different thing from the brute force of relying on magic to pull the direction last time.

He tried a dive and pull-up, nose down, with the thrust off, letting gravity accelerate the plane. The sea surface rapidly expanded in his field of vision, and the rock textures on the cliff face became clearly visible.

Then the wing angle of attack increased, lift surged, and thrust restarted, pulling the entire aircraft up from its dive, tracing a clean arc, and flying back to its original altitude.

The moment it was pulled up, the overload pressed down, and my body sank into the seat. The shock absorption spell and the anti-load spell worked at the same time, dispersing most of the load, but my stomach still jolted.

It can withstand it.

Regulus began to accelerate.