Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 429 The Mysterious Subcontinent

At 8 PM, the House of Response.

Hermes stood in the center of the arena, wand raised to his chest, assuming the standard dueling stance.

Having been beaten up by Regulus several times, he at least gained a lot of experience in taking beatings.

Regulus stood a dozen meters away from him, raised his hand, and casually waved his wand.

Hermes immediately lunged to the side, reacting faster than before, and dodging with less effort and less range.

He landed and flipped over; the wand had just been pointed at him, and before he could even chant the incantation, the second attack had already arrived.

The piercing spell grazed his earlobe and struck the wall, carving a fist-sized dent.

Before I could even catch my breath, the ground beneath my feet suddenly heated up, and even the leather soles of my boots felt hot.

He rolled backward to avoid it, the hem of his robe getting singed and emitting a small wisp of smoke. He quickly reached out and patted it out.

Regulus casually remarked, "That's progress."

Hermes didn't have time to respond; he had already noticed how much progress Regulus had made, and Regulus adjusted the intensity to just overpower him.

His progress was perfectly absorbed by Regulus; the greater his progress, the harder he was punished.

The silver arc of the Slicing Charm swept across, and he crouched down to slip past it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Regulus's wand move again, and he quickly activated the Armor Charm.

The barrier was shattered by an explosive spell as soon as it took shape. The shockwave sent him flying, his back slamming against the wall before he slid down and knelt on the ground.

Before he could even kneel properly, a pressure spell pressed down on him from above, forcing him to the floor, where he braced himself against the ground with his arms to withstand the blow.

Gritting his teeth, he channeled magic into his legs, using it to control his speed and forcefully break free from the oppressive area.

Just as he rushed out, the Mind Control Technique crashed in, his mind went blank, and he quickly gathered his focus.

Just as he regained consciousness, another high-temperature fireball shot towards him. A dozen or so white fireballs, each the size of a head, shot towards him in a line. He sprang up from the ground and ran away.

Regulus allocated his magic and stamina wisely, avoiding the waste of crippling someone in one go.

Hit for a while, then stop for a while, increase the intensity, reduce the duration of each session, and continue beating continuously.

When Hermes gets tired, let him catch his breath, and then start another round, with each round being a little more intense than the last.

Hermes's brain-sealing technique and magical manipulation were forced to rise higher and higher in this round after round.

If you don't run away, you'll get beaten up; if you do run away, you'll still get beaten up, but running away at least means you'll get hit a couple less times.

At the edge of the training field, Avery covered one eye, peeking out through his fingers, unable to bear looking, yet unable to resist looking.

With each burst of the spell, he would hunch his shoulders, hissing and drawing in cold air as if he were the one being attacked.

Alex stood beside him, his face filled with worry, fearing that if he didn't dodge, Hermes would be gone.

As soon as he finished thinking that, Hermes lay down again, his face pressed against the wooden floor, his wand rolling far away.

Alex took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Lena huddled behind Alex, her eyes wide open, while Samuel leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed intently on the scene.

About an hour later, Regulus stopped, put his wand back in his inner pocket, and stretched his wrists.

The feeling of freely unleashing magic was, to be honest, quite good. Hermes served as a good target.

He walked over and stood next to Hermes' head.

Hermes lay on his back on the ground, his body a mess, his robes torn and scorched, his hair a tangled mess, looking as if he had been ravaged by a giant.

No injuries were sustained, but suffering was inevitable.

Compared to what I was thinking at dinner, reality was indeed much crueler.

Regulus leaned slightly forward, his tone relaxed and casual: "How's the pressure?"

Avery and the others gathered around as well.

Avery stood beside Hermes, arms crossed, stroking his chin, glancing at Hermes on the ground, then stealing a glance at Regulus.

He was seriously pondering a question: Had Regulus forgiven him or not?

Why ask how someone is after beating them up like this? What's the meaning of that?

"He's still breathing," Alex crouched down to check Hermes's breath, a look of relief on his face. "He's alive."

"Nonsense," Avery clicked his tongue, "Regulus isn't really going to kill him."

Hermes’ eyes took a while to focus. He lay there, his chest barely rising and falling, like a steaming corpse.

Then suddenly he gasped for breath, his chest heaved, he blinked twice with difficulty, his lips moved, and the sound squeezed out from his throat: "...Okay."

Lina's expression was as if she had seen Merlin. Samuel secretly shifted his gaze away from Regulus, then secretly shifted it back.

Regulus straightened up and turned to Avery: "Not next week."

Avery paused for a moment, then asked, "Where to?"

"India."

Avery was completely stunned, then blurted out, "That godforsaken place?!"

Their voices became shrill: "What are you doing there? Do you even know what kind of place that is?" Alex asked curiously, "You've been there before?"

"I haven't been, but my father has!" Avery raised both hands, gesturing wildly, his expression a mixture of fear, disgust, and a strange excitement.

He said even dragons have to clench their butts when they get to India. You think it's because they're afraid of the heat? No, it's because they're afraid of...

Avery paused, his expression becoming subtle: "...Anyway, just keep your ass clenched, otherwise you won't even know whose egg it is when it's laid!"

Alex's expression froze, his brows slowly furrowed, his lips parted slightly, and he stood there, trying to understand what the sentence meant.

Then his brows furrowed even more, as if he had roughly grasped something, but he wasn't quite sure if he had understood it correctly, and hoped that he hadn't.

"Every year, several wizards sent there by the British Ministry of Magic disappear. Do you think they were harmed by local dark wizards?"

I'm having terrible diarrhea! It's completely unstoppable. Potions aren't working, and the anti-diarrheal medicine concocted by the local herbalist only made it worse.

""

Alex was forced to take a half step back by his imposing manner.

"Giants get fevers there!" Avery got more and more excited as he spoke, waving his finger in the air: "A tribe of giants stayed there for three months and came back as thin as house-elves!"

Three months! Imagine a giant's physique like that. In India, after three months he was practically half-dead. My father said he was completely worn out by the weather there—

"Temperatures in the 50s during the day, torrential rain at night—it's like being in a sauna, you know? Giants were practically steamed alive!"

Lina's mouth was agape; her expression was beyond shock.

"Even goblins don't dare to burrow in the soil there," Avery kept talking. "The soil is full of excrement; once they burrow in, they can't come out and just rot inside!"

And that swamp over there is teeming with highly poisonous leeches; one bite and your leg will swell up like an elephant's leg—

No, that swamp is poisonous. You could get a fever for three days just by standing there and taking a breath!

My father said that a colleague of his went there to investigate, stood by the swamp for ten minutes, and then lay in bed for two weeks, vomiting everything he ate!

Finally, it was only through the work of St. Mungo's poison master who prepared seventeen different antidotes overnight to save him! Seventeen!

Alex's eyes were starting to glaze over.

Is this referring to a country on Earth?

This sounds like another dimension.

"And those cows over there," Avery pointed to the ground, his tone disgusted, "they're everywhere in the streets, white ones, yellow ones, ones with tumors on their backs."

They call that a sacred object, and no one can drive it away. If you're walking along peacefully and a cow blocks your way, and it won't move, you have to go around it.

It bumps into you, and after that, you have to apologize to it. Can you imagine that? Apologize! You have to put your hands together and bow to it. You don't want to do that? Then you're breaking the law!

He made a gagging face and continued, "That's not all. They treat cow dung like a treasure and put all sorts of magic potions in it."

My father said that the potion makers over there add a spoonful of cow dung to everything they brew. They add cow dung ash to the Living Hell potion, cow dung juice to the Compound Potion, and even the Healing Potion uses water soaked with cow dung cake as its base!

He said an Indian sorcerer showed him a 350-year-old family recipe that said to take fresh cow dung, dry it for three days on a full moon night, grind it into powder, and use it as medicine—that's Felix Felicis! Felix Felicis! Do you know how precise that stuff is normally? A tiny bit too much or too little, and the whole batch is ruined. They add cow dung to it!

Alex's voice was hollow: "Cow dung is that powerful?"

"More than impressive!"

Avery replied, then mimicked his father's tone, speaking rapidly: "He also said that the wizards over there, I'm not saying they're no good, but their Ministry of Magic is a mess, they can't manage it at all."

Each state has its own Ministry of Magic, and they each manage their own affairs. Their official documents don't recognize each other's. If you want to check someone's file, you have to travel from Delhi to Mumbai to Kolkata, only to find out that the file is in Jaipur.

When you go to Jaipur, they say the files were transferred to Bangalore last year. When you go to Bangalore, they say they were indeed transferred, but to the wrong place, to Mumbai.

You go to Mumbai, and Mumbai says they found the person, but it's not the one you're looking for. They have the same name, but are from a different caste.

An unprecedented expression appeared on Alex's face.

He heard too much information today that shouldn't exist in this world; his brain is trying to process it, but clearly it can't.

Lina was speechless; her mouth opened and closed repeatedly.

She wanted to ask if these things were true or just made up by Avery, but seeing how he kept going on and on, she didn't think it was made up.

Samuel's eye twitched several times. He looked away from Avery's face, down at the floor, then noticed the color was off and quickly looked up at the ceiling.

Regulus glanced at the expressions on their faces. Alex was still reeling from the shock, Lina looked like she was questioning her existence, and Samuel didn't even dare to look at the floor.

That's interesting.

The idea of ​​going to India is obviously nonsense; even Graybuck would probably find that kind of place dirty.

He certainly wouldn't go to India; he was going to find Dumbledore. This was just a directional misdirection, something he said offhand.

But it must be said that India is a good choice.

That place was incredibly chaotic, and structurally chaotic at that.

In the 1970s, India had only been independent for a little over 20 years. It had been a British colony, and after the British left, they left behind a federal government, but the states had a great deal of autonomy.

The administrative structure of the magical world is even worse. The Ministry of Magic is nominally located in Delhi, but the magical administration in Tamil Nadu only recognizes the seals of the descendants of local chieftains and completely ignores official documents issued by the central government.

The magic enforcement agencies of West Bengal and Punjab do not recognize each other's enforcement authority. A cross-state case was stopped at the state border because the other side did not recognize the search warrant issued by this side.

There are dozens of languages, four or five religions that don't get along with each other, and the caste system is neither clearly passed down from Muggles to wizards nor from wizards to Muggles, but both sides recognize it.

High-caste wizards refused to share communal fireplaces with low-caste wizards, and low-caste wizards formed an underground guild to refuse to provide high-caste wizards with potion ingredients.

Many pure-blood families have businesses in India, and the Cuthbert family is no exception.

The local specialties there are unavailable elsewhere. The snow lingzhi mushroom from the foothills of the Himalayas grows only in the high-altitude regions of Kashmir and is an irreplaceable ingredient for several high-end magic potions.

Lava moss from the Deccan Plateau has grown in the crevices of volcanic rocks for thousands of years and is used in alchemy as a high-temperature conversion material.

There are also bioluminescent jellyfish from the deep sea in the Bay of Bengal, whose toxins, when diluted three thousand times, are the core ingredients of several potent sedatives.

These businesses have been operating since the colonial era. Even after India gained independence, the pure British industries remained, only now the management and profit sharing are more complex than before.

Although Avery had never been there, old Cuthbert had clearly talked about it a lot at home.

Whether it was a dragon clamping its buttocks, a giant being steamed, or a wizard dying from diarrhea, it was mostly old Cuthbert's grievances poured out at the dinner table after returning from a business trip, which his son had memorized word for word.

However, after listening to Avery's explanation, Regulus felt he had learned something new; with the addition of magic, India seemed even more magical.

The British probably thought the same way when they colonized the country.

Avery was still rambling on when Regulus interrupted, "If anyone asks, just say you went there."

Avery paused, finally stopped talking, and then his eyes lit up.

He instantly realized that he had been assigned a major task. Regulus was not going to India; that was just a pretext for outsiders.

A broad smile spread across his face, and he thumped his chest loudly: "Don't worry, leave it to me!"

Regulus looked at Alex, his gaze quickly sweeping over Lina and Samuel.

Alex met his gaze and nodded.

He knew what to say; Lena and Samuel were tight-lipped, but someone had to keep things in check, and he would handle it.

Regulus glanced at the group and gave a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"I don't know when I'll be back, but when I do, I want to see your progress, and who hasn't met my expectations—"

He didn't continue speaking, his gaze lingering briefly on Hermes's limp, muddy body before returning to the faces of the others.

Avery shivered, Alex nodded immediately, and Lena shrank back, bumping into Samuel, who almost lost his balance.

"You guys practice, I have something to do." Regulus turned and left.

The door to the House of Requirement closed behind him.