Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 469 Disturbing the Old Father

Regulus followed Baruch's footsteps, stopping and starting, listening to him describe each plant in broken sentences.

Which seed did it bring back from the edge of the depression? Which seedling did it water every day? Which mushroom did it pluck and try to grow?

Glowing mushrooms don't normally grow in the soil, but this one managed to grow there. The mushroom stems are crooked and sticking out of the ground, half-dead, but still glowing.

And that sapling, it dug it out from deeper in the Forbidden Forest. While digging it out, it startled a nest of goblins under the tree roots, and then it ate them.

This scene would seem unremarkable to anyone: a large spider, a few weeds, and a sapling no thicker than a magic wand.

But he thought it was fine.

Baruch spoke incoherently, his syllables and the clicking sounds of his chelicerae mingling together, and some parts were not very clear, but the general meaning was understandable.

Regulus didn't interrupt, but followed it, listened to it, and nodded occasionally.

After Baruch finished introducing all the plants, Regulus looked at it and said softly, "Keep planting, but in a different spot."

Baruch's eight legs suddenly jerked, and his chelicerae opened, making a crisp and rapid clicking sound.

Then he stopped moving, turned around, looked at the small patch of turned soil and the tender shoots in front of him, and then looked at the sapling that was half a person tall and the crooked support.

It gestured with its front paws towards the open space in front of it, its tone hesitant: "Change? A tree?"

Regulus thought for a moment.

These plants are growing well, but they have just taken root. If they are dug up and transplanted now, they will most likely be damaged. Moreover, they are familiar with the soil in the forbidden forest, and if they are moved elsewhere, they will not be able to adapt to the new environment.

Regulus took a step forward and leaned closer to coax it: "Keep these for now, no one will touch them in the Forbidden Forest. Next, I'll take you out with me, there'll be plenty of places for you to mess around with."

The plants outside the forbidden forest have never seen spiders before, so they won't mind you and might be easier to grow.

Baruch lowered his spider head, tucked his eight legs together, and squatted down. His chelicerae opened and closed gently twice, making a very low click.

Then it stretched out its front leg and touched the two-inch-tall wild grass seedling with the tip of its claw. The touch was so light that the leaves only trembled slightly.

Then it turned back, raised its head, and suddenly opened its chelicerae, clicking and clacking: "Go."

It still couldn't bear to part with it, spending more than ten days and nights loosening the soil, watering it, patting it down, watching the sun during the day, and watching the moon at midnight.

Regulus is back, and it wants to go with him. It's reluctant to leave, but it wants to go with Regulus even more. It's a no-brainer.

It glanced down at the small nursery again, then decisively turned around, strode over to Regulus, lay down, tucked its eight legs in, rested its spider head on its front legs, and prepared to be shrunk.

Regulus pointed his finger, and the Transfiguration Charm took effect, causing Baruch's body to shrink.

The carapace area is shrinking, the bristles are transitioning from coarse bristles to fine down, the eight legs are gradually shortening, and the warm-colored patterns at the joints shimmered in the moonlight.

Before it had fully shrunk, it couldn't wait any longer. With all eight legs pushing off the ground, it launched itself onto Regulus's shoulder and was already the size of a palm.

Its dark red bristles were fluffy and shimmered with a scale-like sheen. Its eight amber eyes darted around in the moonlight, and the fine white spots around each eye shone slightly.

It pressed against Regulus's ear, making a long series of clicking sounds, its pincers gently clamping onto a strand of his hair, tugging at it and then letting go.

Regulus glanced at it, and Baruch spun around on his shoulder, adjusted his position, curled up his eight legs, and settled down.

It's time to go home.

The next moment, a ball of silvery-white light surged out from his chest, and the light grew stronger and stronger, eventually coalescing in front of him.

First the wingtips, then the entire pair of wings; the Starry Sky Kite unfurled its wings from the silver light, wider than his outstretched arms.

Its tail feathers trailed shimmering fragments of light, and with each flap of its wings, starlight spilled from the tips of its wings.

With a flap of its wings, a circle of silver light spread through the air, illuminating the treetops overhead and overshadowing the surrounding luminous plants.

The entire open space seemed to be submerged in shallow water, and all colors became clear and transparent.

The Starry Sky Kite circled above the Forbidden Forest, emitting a clear cry. Its huge wings flapped silently, with only silver light flowing between the tree trunks.

Baruch propped himself up on Regulus's shoulder, waved his pincers, and clucked as he greeted him, having not seen his friend in a long time.

After circling once, the Starry Sky Kite flapped its wings, fully unfolding them. The silvery-white light instantly brightened, and the starlight it cast, trailing long tail feathers, illuminated the small mounds of earth in Baruch.

Then it flapped its wings violently, turned around, and pounced straight at Regulus, its entire body instantly enveloped in light.

Silvery light spread from his chest to his limbs, flowed down his shoulders to his fingertips, and down his waist and abdomen to his ankles.

He was enveloped in a flowing cocoon of light. The light threads seemed alive, entwining and intertwining, clinging to his body. His vision was filled with silver light, and the forbidden forest outside could no longer be seen.

The journey has begun.

The starry kite carved a path through the space, blurring the surrounding scenery. Occasionally, a bright light would flash by, like stars or distant lights.

The space became warm and welcoming, as if it were welcoming him. There was no sense of oppression or dizziness, only the silver light flowing on the surface of the cocoon and the soft clicking sound of Baruch in his ear.

A moment later, the light receded.

12 Grimmauld Place, study.

After Orion finished dinner, he returned to his study. Kreacher had just come to refill his tea, and the bone china teacup was placed on the right side of the desk.

Steam rose from the rim of the cup, shimmering grayish-white in the green glow of the fireplace.

The streetlights outside the window cast a dim yellow glow. The curtains of the houses across the street were already drawn. Occasionally, a Ford car would pass by the street corner, its headlights tracing an arc across the window before disappearing.

He picked up the teacup, about to bring it to his lips, when his fingers froze in mid-air.

The old house's defenses were breached.

Something came straight in from the inside, penetrating the anti-phantom teleportation barrier and the spatial blockade reinforced by generations, appearing directly in the central area of ​​the old house.

The defensive magic of the entire house was activated at the same instant.

The green flames in the fireplace suddenly shot up, and at the same time, the portraits of the ancestors on the wall opened their eyes, with a dozen pairs of gray eyes looking down from the frames.

A deep hum came from deep within the floorboards, and the shadows in the corners began to spread outwards, climbing up the base of the wall and swallowing up the light in the room.

The crystal chandelier on the ceiling suddenly swayed, and the pendants collided with each other, making a soft tinkling sound.

Before Orion could even put down his teacup, the wand had already slipped into his hand.

Someone entered Blake's old house in a way that shouldn't exist.

He stood up, his expression solemn, and the study door opened automatically.

Then he recognized the texture of the power that pierced the barrier, the silvery-white magical residue, and the freedom that seemed innate, capable of breaking through all barriers—Starry Sky Kite.

The last time I experienced this was last summer, the day Regulus returned from Germany.

The kid did the same thing before, passing right through the anti-phantom teleportation barrier and startling the old house's defenses awake.

Orion sat down again, holding his wand in his hand, resting it on his knees, without raising it.

The corners of her mouth lifted very slightly, then disappeared again.

This child is bringing the starry kite home again. He was startled last time, and he's doing it again this time.

The flames in the fireplace fell back to their original place, the portraits of the ancestors looked at each other, some closed their eyes again, the shadows shrank back into the corner, and the chandelier stopped swaying.

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and waited for his son to either teleport into the study or go to the kitchen to ask Kreacher for something to eat.

The next moment, starlight burst forth in the study, and silvery-white light squeezed out of the air, as if something was turning outward from the texture of space.

The light grew brighter and denser, eventually coalescing into a cocoon shape.

Starlight drifted outwards, landing on the desk and the carpet, spreading out in circles of silvery-white light in the air. When it hit the wall, it shattered into smaller starlight, slowly dimming in the air.

A figure emerged from the light.

White hair cascaded over his shoulders, coarse and stiff, with amber-colored vertical pupils and subtle radial patterns in his irises. His pupils dilated slightly in the dim light of the room.

He was over 180 cm tall, with broad shoulders and a sturdy build. He wore a dark gray short vest, and his magic radiated intensely. The air around his body was slightly distorted, and light rays traversed the curved paths as they passed through him.

A completely unfamiliar face, with strong features and rough lines, a crooked mouth, and a rather impolite smile.

It's not Regulus.

Orion's pupils contracted slightly, and his brain made a decision in an instant.

White hair, vertical pupils, youth, and scorching magic—it perfectly matched the description sent back by the Death Eaters.

A dangerous, unfamiliar wizard, extremely powerful and ruthless.

The old house's defensive magic began to hum again, changing from a warning to a state of readiness.

The green flames in the fireplace rose again, turning from green to a ghastly white, and the flames licked at the stone carvings above the fireplace.

The ancestral portraits all opened their eyes, each one, each pair, from the study to the corridor, from the first floor to the fourth floor, all turning towards the study.

The shadow in the corner spread again, this time faster, surging out from the base of the wall, seeping down from the ceiling, and converging towards the center of the study; something was flowing in the shadow.

The air became viscous, and the oppressive force created by the sheer density of pure magic made it feel as if something was squeezing your chest with every breath.

The runes under the floor also lit up, and dark green patterns crawled along the brick seams to the base of the wall, and then climbed up the wall, making every inch of the study glow.

The crystal chandelier swayed violently, its clanging sounds creating ripples like water.

Orion's figure twisted in place and disappeared into the shadows behind him.

The shadow embraced him, swallowing the outline of his robes, swallowing his hand holding the wand, and even the green light shining from the tip of the wand was swallowed up the moment it disappeared into the shadow.

The person's entire senses—sight, hearing, and magical perception—were simultaneously erased.

Only the white-haired wizard remained in the study, along with a room full of ancient magic that had been activated.

Regulus stood in the center of the study, feeling the threat posed by the old house.

That's definitely something, the Shadow Stalking Curse.

I witnessed it when I sparred with my father last time. He can create absolute darkness, suppress senses, and even swallow spells.

Looking back now, it seems that my father only used about 30% of his strength that time. The Shadow Tracking technique, enhanced by the old house's home advantage, was on a completely different level from the one used in the training field.

He could feel the magic he had spread in the surrounding air being pushed back piece by piece, and an absolute void appeared within his perception range, right in the shadow next to the bookshelf.

The eyes could not see it, and there was nothing in the senses. As the gaze moved, the area of ​​the void expanded rapidly, almost instantly spreading to the entire study.

The old house was still being pressurized, the runes were getting brighter and brighter, the floor began to tremble, and the Muggle streetlights outside the window went out.

Regulus's magical perception was suppressed, but his spatial perception was still active, and he could clearly feel that the old house's defensive magic had directly cut the entire house out of the Muggle world.

The dark green veins on the walls had climbed up to the ceiling, merging with the shadows spreading down from the four corners, turning the entire study into an absolutely sealed cage.

Regulus's lips curled into a grin.

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