Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 428 Regulus's Freedom

Sirius remained silent for a long time.

He understood some of what Regulus had said, and some he didn't, but at least he took it to heart.

He watched as the canopy of the Forbidden Forest in the distance outlined layer upon layer under the setting sun, his mind replaying Regulus's three questions over and over again.

What is the relationship between magic and yourself? How do you understand magic? What is the relationship between magic, yourself, and the world?

He didn't quite understand, but for the first time he felt that some questions were worth thinking about.

Sirius's voice brought Regulus back to reality: "I have a question for you."

He turned his head, a serious look flashing in his eyes, even more serious than before. He opened his mouth, organizing his thoughts.

"You said magic is related to me, related to the world," he began slowly, his words faltering, "So if I want to do something, something really difficult, something I might not even be able to do, but I just feel I should do it, and I do it, will magic help me?"

He thought for a moment, then added in a lower voice, "Will the world help me?"

Regulus looked into his eyes and roughly knew what Sirius was asking.

I wanted to pull him away from Voldemort, and I wanted him to stand with him in the sunlight.

He felt that his younger brother was in danger and wanted to reach out and pull him out.

The premise of this belief is wrong.

He never got caught up in anything; every step he took was his own, proactive, clear-headed, and purposeful.

But the power of belief has nothing to do with whether the premise is right or wrong.

When a person wholeheartedly believes in something and then acts on it, that process itself is how magic works.

If the premise is right, you'll succeed; if the premise is wrong, you won't succeed. But the strength, understanding, and experience accumulated in the process are just as real.

He doesn't correct the premise; he's making decisions for Sirius, and all he can offer is direction.

"Then do it," Regulus said softly, looking at the clouds on the horizon. "The answer is with you, not with me."

Go ahead and try it. If it works, it works; if it doesn't, you'll know why. That's better than asking me.

Sirius stared at him for a long time, as the wind blew across the lake, brushing against their robes.

He didn't speak immediately. He turned his head and stared at the distant lake, his eyes dimming.

There was a long silence, long enough for the sun to sink further below the ridgeline, the orange hue on the horizon to turn deep red, and the clouds to slowly change from dark gold to gray-blue.

Sirius didn't fully understand, probably not most of it, but he did remember it nonetheless.

Regulus's words may sound like he's just fooling people at first glance, but upon reflection, even if you don't want to admit it, there's always some truth to what he says.

"So," Sirius's voice was dry, "thinking about these things?"

Regulus shook his head casually: "Think about everything worth thinking about."

Sirius snorted and said nothing more.

The two walked a little further, hugging the wall, going around the west side of the castle, and walked to the covered bridge, below which was the water of the Black Lake.

The lake surface shimmered with a dark gold in the afterglow of the setting sun, and a breeze blew up from the lake, carrying moisture and coolness.

Sirius Black suddenly spoke up: "Then what do you want?"

Regulus turned his head to look at him.

Sirius stopped, gazing at the distant lakeshore, his tone demanding: "What do you want? You keep walking forward, refusing to stop. Where are you going?"

Regulus took a few steps, turned his back to him, and whispered, "Freedom."

When Sirius heard this word, his mind automatically connected it to that conversation from last year.

Power and choice: with power comes choice, and with choice comes freedom.

He nodded thoughtfully, feeling that this was the answer he had expected.

Freedom—he understood the word.

He thought he understood.

Regulus turned around and saw the look on Sirius's face, knowing what he was thinking.

He didn't correct it.

Freedom, of course, who doesn't like freedom?

Freedom of choice certainly counts, but that's only something for the present moment, a temporary phase.

Power, choice, and cost—these three constitute the cornerstone of freedom; that's what we were talking about in the previous conversation.

This is the first stage, the prerequisite; we are still far from the finish line.

The second stage is spatial freedom.

From the ground to the sky, from the atmosphere to interstellar space, from this planet to the next.

Break free from all spatial barriers and go wherever you want.

He wanted to see the starry sky above him, the things that light had taken tens of thousands of years to reach, and to truly stand in front of those stars.

Standing on the ground craning your neck to see a single point of light is so boring; even goblins can stay up all night gazing at the stars.

What he wanted was to cross the darkness, cross the void, and stand before that light.

The universe is infinite, space is infinite, and the places we want to go are infinite.

What is at the end of space? What lies beyond space? If space has no end, then what does infinity itself mean?

These questions have no answers, or rather, the answers lie in places we haven't been yet.

The third stage is freedom of time.

Live, keep living, live until you've explored everything you want to explore.

Exploration takes time; reaching infinitely distant places requires an infinitely long time.

If a person only has a lifespan of one or two hundred years, what they can see is limited, the places they can go are limited, and the truths they can understand are limited.

He didn't know if he was afraid of dying, but he was certain that he felt the space was too short.

He wanted enough time to see enough things, to travel far enough, and to understand enough of the truth.

The freedom he desires is essentially a transcendence—a transcendence of any individual, any faction, any era, and the inherent limitations of the human wizarding species.

Space confines him to Earth, and time confines him to his lifespan.

These two walls are the default settings for everyone, but he doesn't accept the default settings.

Complete freedom is the combination of spatial freedom and temporal freedom.

Infinitely far, infinitely long.

The sun sank below the ridgeline, leaving only a thin layer of red light on the horizon. Dark blue pressed down from overhead, and the first star appeared.

The windows of the castle in the distance lit up one by one.

The two walked back along the base of the wall.

Sirius got what he wanted, and Regulus said what he was willing to say.

The wind was getting cool, so Sirius pulled up the collar of his robe and put his hands back in his pockets.

As we arrived at the auditorium entrance, the lively sounds inside poured out from under the door. Some people were laughing, some were shouting, and it was all the noise of eating, with knives and forks clinking against plates.

Sirius stopped at the door, glanced at Regulus, and Regulus glanced at him back.

Gray eyes met gray eyes, and neither said a word.

Sirius grinned, waved at Regulus, and turned to walk towards the Gryffindor table.

Regulus watched him plunge into Potter's group, then turned and walked toward Slytherin.

At the other end of the Slytherin table, Avery was looking around, chewing something with his mouth bulging, his cheeks puffing out.

Seeing Regulus approaching, he raised his arm high and waved at him, about to speak, but almost blurted something out, so he quickly covered it.

It's not very elegant.

Regulus went over and sat down.

Dinner was as lavish as ever, with the long table piled high with food.

Steaming hot roasted lamb chops, a mountain of mashed potatoes, crème brûlée trembling slightly on a plate, and jugs of pumpkin juice side by side.

Regulus picked up his fork and had just speared a piece of roast beef when he caught a glimpse of Avery exchanging glances with Hermes.

Avery's eyebrows were almost touching his hairline, and his chin was twitching towards Regulus; his whole face was straining.

Hermes sat opposite Regulus, head down, poking at the mashed potatoes in his plate with his fork, turning it over, poking it again, but never looking up.

Alex sat down next to Hermes and poked him under the table. Hermes shrugged but didn't react.

Alex poked it again, adding a bit more force, and Hermes finally raised his head, his face expressionless. He glanced at Alex, then lowered his head again to continue poking at the mashed potatoes.

Lena sat next to Alex, hiding her face with her cup, glancing at him from above the rim.

Samuel sat a little further away, quietly cutting meat, but his head was tilted slightly and his ears were clearly perked up.

Everyone is looking at Hermes.

Hermes sat directly opposite Regulus, head down, without uttering a word.

Regulus probably knew what was going on, but didn't pay much attention.

These guys must have talked it out beforehand, planning to have Hermes apologize during the meal. With so many people around, it would be difficult for him to shut up if he spoke up.

According to the original plan, the activity was to continue tonight.

The Room of Requirement, one-on-one, he fights Hermes.

Apologizing or admitting a mistake is ultimately just a matter of saying a few words; it's all over.

But he didn't let Hermes speak; once a sentence was uttered, it was gone and couldn't be remembered.

If he wants Hermes to remember, then he must make the body remember.

This guy's brain is just that long; what his body remembers is more useful than anything else.

Hermes certainly didn't want to get beaten up again, but upon reflection, he realized that his progress in those intense one-on-one battles was indeed significant.

The response speed of the brain occlusion technique has increased significantly, and the stability of magic manipulation under extreme pressure has also improved considerably.

Every time I leave the Room of Requirement, my whole body aches so much that I can't even stand up straight, but my mind is clear.

Even more sober than before, after being repeatedly crushed under high pressure, the resilience of the mind is visibly growing.

He understood Regulus's meaning perfectly well.

He's not afraid of getting beaten up, but it depends on who he's with.

If anyone else had hit him like that, he would have fought back with his life on the line. He wouldn't even accept being beaten by his own father.

However, he acknowledged Regulus's beating because he respected it from the bottom of his heart.

So he didn't mind being beaten, and even wanted to continue, but he didn't want to be labeled as someone who had made a mistake and was being punished.

He doesn't care about anything when he's out, and he doesn't care what others think of him. He always has a gloomy face, so people avoid him, which is good for his peace and quiet.

But in the dormitory, within this small group, he cared about his image.

Having already experienced the benefits of high-intensity competition, I want to continue, but the reason needs to change from being punished to training.

So we have to get over this hurdle first.

Hermes took a deep breath, his face flashing with several expressions.

Impatience turns into hesitation, hesitation leads to awkwardness, and awkwardness leads to gritting one's teeth.

Admitting mistakes is more difficult than a thirteen or fourteen-year-old wizard might imagine.

His mouth opened twice and then closed again, his throat moved, and his brow was furrowed so deeply it could crush a cockroach.

Finally, he made his expression as stiff as a board, avoided eye contact, pursed his lips, gave up thinking, and spoke directly.

His voice was stiff: "Regulus, I was wrong."

Regulus put down his cutlery, picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth, and looked up at Hermes across from him.

Hermes' face was expressionless, his eyes slightly lowered. He didn't look at her or anyone else, but stared at the mashed potatoes on the table that had been poked and mashed beyond recognition.

There was a moment of silence.

Avery slapped his forehead, his eyes filled with despair.

Is this your attitude? You're such a grown man, didn't you ever cause trouble as a child? You can't even apologize?

Alex reached under the table and tugged at Hermes' arm, signaling him to behave.

Hermes remained unmoved and continued to stand there woodenly.

Lina almost couldn't hold it in next to Alex, and quickly hid her face behind the cup, her shoulders shaking.

Samuel lowered his head, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, then quickly looked away.

Regulus looked away, took a sip of pumpkin juice, put down the glass, and said casually, "Let's eat."

Hermes remained silent. After a moment, he slightly raised his eyes, glanced at Regulus, and then lowered them again.

A moment later, he rubbed his fingers on the table and swallowed hard.

After hesitating for a long time, stiffening his neck, he finally squeezed out a sentence, his voice even harder than before: "Then—can we continue?"

Avery stared wide-eyed at Hermes, then at Regulus, his fork frozen in mid-air.

Alex's expression slowly changed from shock to admiration, Lena's eyes darted back and forth, and Samuel seemed thoughtful.

Regulus's lips twitched slightly upwards.

This guy got a taste of the benefits.

If you want it, then give it to me; give it to me with all your might.

He nodded: "Okay."

Hermes' expression instantly changed; he came to life, picked up the cup, and gulped down a mouthful of pumpkin juice.

Then he picked up his fork, lowered his head again, forked a large piece of beef, and stuffed it into his mouth, his cheeks bulging.

After chewing a couple of times, he forked another piece of Yorkshire pudding and shoved it into his mouth, sauce and all, with a fierce eating style.

I need to replenish my energy; I'm going to get another beating tonight.