Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 477 Regulus's Alchemy

The first chapter discusses the magical affinity of matter, and each material is accompanied by an illustration.

The interiors of all materials contain natural magical patterns, from minerals to metals, from wood to biological tissues, from dragon scales to dragonfly wings, covering almost all categories of materials that may be encountered in alchemy practice.

The illustrations in this textbook take up nearly half of the page, and the pictures are dynamic, starting with the overall appearance.

First, show them as they are, then zoom in, magnifying the surface details, peeling back layer by layer until the magical patterns inside are revealed, each with its own unique direction.

Metals are linear, arranged along the crystal lattice, with a clear order; plants are network-like, with magic flowing between the cellulose skeletons of the cell walls, branching haphazardly.

The patterns in minerals resemble cracks or vortices, and their direction depends on the magical environment in which the minerals were formed. The patterns in animal materials have mostly disappeared, leaving only traces of primal life force.

From simple to complex, the patterns become denser and finer.

The first step in alchemy is to identify these patterns, understand their direction and density, before you can even talk about altering them.

This step posed no obstacle for Regulus; the precision of his magical perception, honed through Star Orbit Meditation, was more than sufficient for this task.

What beginners need to learn through experience and trial and error, they can see directly.

Chapter Two discusses basic alchemy circuits, which involve drawing specific magical paths on or inside materials to guide externally inputted magic to flow along the circuits and resonate with the natural patterns inside the materials, thereby altering the original structure of the materials.

The principle is not difficult; it ultimately comes down to the manipulation of magic, and his strengths lie in his ability to perceive magic.

Chapter 3 discusses directional transformation, which uses loop guidance to change materials from state A to state B.

The transformation of lead into gold is the most classic example, but textbooks don't teach this; it's too advanced, and that's Lemaître's domain.

The third-grade introductory textbook teaches more basic concepts, such as changing the magical conductivity of metals, making metals that originally did not conduct magic able to do so.

It alters the hardness and toughness of ores, turning brittle into tough and soft into hard.

All exercises are accompanied by a standard loop diagram, which marks the location of magic input, the direction of the loop, and the spacing between nodes.

Regulus quickly grasped the basics, finishing the third and fourth grades in one afternoon.

I continued reading the fifth-grade material in the evening, but at a slower pace. The deep magical structure of metals began to involve descriptions at the atomic level.

French alchemical theory is far more profound than British magical theory, attempting to explain what the most fundamental layer of matter is and why it can be transformed.

The sixth-grade material made him stop and think for a long time: the interaction and transformation of magic and matter, changing the essence of matter, turning it into something else from the inside out.

Lemaître once told him in his Parisian living room: "Magic can be transformed into matter, and matter can be transformed into magic; this is the foundation of alchemy."

The textbook uses the same logic, just not as explicitly. Lemaître looks back from the end of six hundred years of practice, while the textbook explores forward from the starting point.

The chapter begins with a quote, "Solve et Coagula," meaning dissolution and coagulation.

The textbook's explanation of this concept only stays at the material level: first, the old structure of the material is disassembled, and then a new structure is reassembled. The two steps combined are called transformation.

In the transformation process of advanced alchemy, dismantling and reconstruction occur simultaneously. As the old structure dissipates, a new structure is generated, and the two processes are intertwined.

He closed the book, leaned back, and stared at the ceiling.

He can dissolve and disassemble.

The Disintegration Spell dismantles living beings, breaking down a living thing into its most basic constituent units at the level of existence. The Disintegration Spell dismantles non-living matter, shattering its physical structure through resonance.

The two can be combined, organic or inorganic, living or dead, and can all be disassembled.

As for cohesion and reconstruction, he won't do it; he'll only dismantle.

Professor McGonagall's words suddenly popped into my head.

After the object's true nature is stripped away, there is an extremely narrow window between it and its collapse back into a certain form.

"It's nothing, a state that can be shaped at will, leaving you no time to act calmly. It's just a narrow crack."

McGonagall concluded by saying, "Going further ahead, there are other disciplines to answer."

Now I understand, the other discipline is alchemy.

The path of metamorphosis is to change from the outside in, suppressing the old form or allowing the old form to accept the new form.

His third idea was to use the Disintegration Spell to erase the old form, reshape it during the window, dissolve it, and then forcibly condense it in the cracks.

Do it in two separate steps. There's a window in the middle, but it's too narrow to grasp.

Alchemy doesn't have these two steps; there's no such thing as an intermediate state where nothing exists.

If he can achieve synchronization, the window problem will not exist.

This certainly doesn't mean that transfiguration is wrong.

Professor McGonagall taught him the identification of reality, the tendency to revert, repression, and transformation—these are the tools for understanding why something is itself.

Alchemy bypassed the window problem, but Transfiguration offered another angle, allowing the old self to become new without demolition or construction.

The two paths each have their own logic and lead to different destinations; neither is inherently superior to the other.

He always wanted everything.

But right now he's only just learned how to draw basic alchemy circuits, so thinking that far ahead is useless.

The introduction to the Emerald Record only mentions this one sentence, but he knows much more, from Hermes to Paracelsus.

There is a more complete discussion there.

Asabove, sobelow; the Hermetic tradition regards this phrase as the foundation of the entire alchemy.

The laws governing transformation in the material world and the spiritual world are isomorphic. If lead can be transformed, then theoretically the physical body can be transformed, and if the physical body can be transformed, then theoretically the soul can be transformed.

This is the oldest proposition in the Jade Record.

The textbook doesn't teach this; it only covers the material aspect.

However, following Hermes' logic, the transformation of matter is the first level, and the transformation of principles is the second level, which is the complete practice of dissolution and condensation, and mastering the rules of transformation itself.

Why can things change from one state to another? How is the transformation between magic and matter achieved?

The quality-to-magic transformation he had previously envisioned should be at this level.

The Disintegration Curse is not just about physical pulverization, but about directly converting the target's mass into magical power that drives the vibrations, allowing the target to provide itself with the energy for destruction.

The ultimate form of the Disintegration Curse is also a direct application of alchemical principles.

The life transmutation is the third level, the physical transmutation and the soul transmutation. Flamel lived for over six hundred years thanks to this; the life potion made from the Philosopher's Stone continuously repaired the aging of the body and maintained life.

He certainly didn't know the specific formula and principles; Lemaître hadn't told him. But he knew Lemaître had succeeded.

His thoughts skipped a beat as he thought of this.

Voldemort.

If you apply the framework of alchemy to it, everything he did was in the opposite direction.

Alchemy's soul-transformation should be purification, making the soul more complete, while Voldemort's is tearing, forcibly breaking the soul into fragments and stuffing them into a container.

Alchemy's physical transformation should be about enhancement, allowing the body to bear more, while Voldemort's is about distortion, using dark magic to transform the body into something inhuman.

However, saying it's the opposite is only a conclusion drawn from the framework of alchemy.

The framework is set by people.

Voldemort's mastery of dark magic was unbelievably profound, unmatched by anyone throughout history.

He successfully tore his soul apart, successfully transformed his body, and successfully ripped a gash in the face of death.

His methods were violence, his direction was outward expansion, and the cost was the loss of the ability to empathize and connect, but he succeeded.

If someone successfully navigates a path that no one has ever walked before, then no one has the right to say it's crooked.

The positive and negative aspects within the alchemical framework are just one of many. If we look at it from another perspective, if the essence of the soul can be split and the limits of the body can be broken, then what Voldemort did was to pave the way forward.

Even in the realm of magic, he is a great man.

Then Regulus thought of himself.

With each star illuminated during Star Track Meditation, his mental structure was reshaped, and the precision of his magical control and the depth of his magical perception rose to a new level.

In alchemical terms, he has been undergoing a spiritual transformation.

Lemaître once told him, "You're already doing it, you just don't realize it, and that's alchemy."

Same way.

These paths may seem completely different, with different names, methods, and directions, but the underlying logic may be the same: transformation.

Alchemy may be the underlying language of the magical world, describing all the possibilities of transformation, which everyone practices in their own way.

Voldemort sought immortality, tearing apart his soul to defy death and altering his body beyond its limits, forging a path no one had ever walked before.

Flamel used the Philosopher's Stone to transform matter and life. After six hundred years of accumulation and reflection, he finally chose to abandon the Philosopher's Stone.

Dumbledore used Transfiguration to touch the boundaries of existence, believing in choice and in the light within people.

Grindelwald treated the entire world as the object of his alchemy. For a greater good, perhaps what he sought to transform was order, becoming both the achiever and the achieved in an era.

And then there's himself, who tempers his spirit and body through star-track meditation, nourishes his soul with experiences and choices, dissects the world with reason, and understands the world with emotion.

Then let magic, at the end of reason, return to the deeper realm of sensibility.

What will a wizard ultimately become?

There was no answer to this thought, and he didn't intend to find one now.

"Just do it first and talk about it later," that's what Le May told him too.

He snapped out of his reverie, looked at the copper coin he'd bought from Marseille on the corner of the table, and a word suddenly popped into his head: bistable.

A system switches between two stable states, each of which is stable. Switching requires an external input signal. When the signal arrives, the system switches; when the signal stops, the system stops.

The basic exercises in the textbook are unidirectional transformations, simply changing a metal from A to B; it's unidirectional and irreversible.

But what if we draw two loops in the same piece of material?

They share a set of nodes but take different paths. Loop A keeps the copper sheet in its normal metallic state, while loop B rearranges the internal structure, giving it the ability to store magic.

Enter a little magic to activate B, and A will go into hibernation. Enter it again to activate A, and B will go into hibernation. You can switch between the two states back and forth, and it can be reversed at any time.

This wasn't in the textbook, but he wanted to try it.

Regulus picked up the copper coin, cut off a palm-sized piece, and smoothed the edges.

First, do some basic exercises to change the magical conductivity of the metal.

He placed the copper sheet on the table, touched the surface with his wand, and used his magical perception to penetrate deep inside, finding the natural magical patterns. He then drew the first alchemical circuit along these patterns, guiding the magic to change the internal structure.

The natural patterns of copper are linear, following the direction of the crystal lattice, and the magic seeps in from the tip of the wand, leaving a luminous trail inside the copper sheet.

Once the drawing was finished, magic was input, the circuit was activated, and the patterns inside the copper sheet began to rearrange under the drive of magic. The ordinary copper sheet, which could not conduct magic in the first place, now had a faint silver light appear on its surface.

The copper sheet felt slightly warm to the touch, and I could feel the internal conduction channels opening up.

It was a success; it wasn't difficult at all.

His mental strength and magical control are far superior to those of ordinary junior wizards, so he doesn't need to do these basic exercises a second time.

Then he does his own thing.