Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 541 A Blink in the Night

Regulus found a relatively intact section of the broken wall base, sat down, leaned against the remaining wall, stretched his legs forward, and rested his wand on his knees.

He wouldn't normally do this in public. The heir of the Black family always sits and stands properly, always upright.

But I'm really tired right now.

My stamina is pretty good; I can run and jump. My magic power recovers quickly, even when I rest.

But my mind felt completely empty, and my entire pace suddenly slowed down from high speed to the lowest setting. Everything slowed down.

Those ten seconds or so just now, pulling the doomed end from the depths of the soul and pouring it into the raging fire, should at least be considered a conceptual-level ability activation.

Both Betelgeuse's outburst and Betelgeuse's protection have specific carriers, and both consume a lot of mental energy. However, through continuous tempering by star-track meditation, they can now be used in real time.

The endpoint is a pure concept, a pure abstraction. For him, the whole process was like consciously performing an action he didn't even know was happening. After finishing, he felt a blank space in his mind. The mental exhaustion was greater than all the battles he had fought that night combined.

A concept is extracted from his body, used up, and then gone, leaving behind an emptiness with no bounds.

His mental state is not quite right right now, but his mind is clear and his reactions are still working. If someone were to throw a spell at him at this moment, he could catch or dodge it.

But that clarity was at its lowest setting; maintaining that posture required expending the last bit of willpower he had left, and he felt tired just standing there.

It's fine to sit here.

Its gray eyes were open, staring in the direction of the wasteland, not looking at anything specific.

Silas followed him and walked a few steps away. He didn't say anything, just stood there, not too far away, blocking one direction.

Scattered sounds came from the ruins: the creaking of rubble being turned over, the soft tapping of a wand on something, and occasionally a short spell drifting from afar, the intervals growing longer.

The Black family's vassals were working, killing them alive.

Those who were buried in the ruins but not quite dead, those who had been sucked by Old Roel's shadow tentacles but not completely, and those who were too scared to show their faces and hid after being hit by the first Disintegration Curse, were all dug out and killed.

The vassals moved through the ruins, dealing with each one they found as they went, a quick flash of green light, and they were gone in a clean and efficient manner.

At the same time, they were also searching, because it was impossible for everything that the Roll Manor had accumulated over hundreds of years to be made public.

Magically protected items, books, and potions are protected enough to withstand the physical impact of the Disintegration Curse.

There are also underground spaces, cellars, secret chambers, and magically sealed storage spaces; these places are deep enough that the magic protecting them may still be intact.

The vassals used detection spells to scan the ruins inch by inch, the light from the tips of their staffs moving through every corner, occasionally flashing in a certain spot, finding something, picking it up to look at it, and putting it into their bags or boxes.

Regulus just sat there, watching them work, without having to do anything.

He blinked once, then blinked again, but his vision was still a little unfocused.

On the distant hills, the audience began to disperse.

The first to leave were the observers from the magic ministries of various countries. They were there on official business, and after they finished observing and taking notes, it was time for them to go back and write their reports.

They pulled out their door keys from their robe pockets; they were all different, some were blackened silver coins, some were burnt matches, some were rusty nails, and some were knotted old ropes.

When you touch it with your finger, the key emits a blue light that spreads outward from the surface of the object, pulling you inward. Your body spins in place, your feet leave the ground, and you are enveloped and stretched into a beam of light, disappearing into the night sky.

The Order of the Phoenix also withdrew. Moody stood on the high hill, took one last look at the ruins, and then turned and left. The Prewitt brothers followed, and a dozen or so people Apparated away one after another.

The Death Eaters dispersed more slowly; a few masked men huddled together, talking in hushed tones.

"Go back and tell your master."

"The one from the Black family"

"Position 1 in the future"

With the Roll family gone, the vacant territory needs to be redistributed. After this battle, the Black family's position in this camp no longer needs to be confirmed.

Whoever gets close to the Blake family will have more room to maneuver in the future.

Having finished speaking, the masks dispersed, and one by one, they Apparitions disappeared.

Bella didn't look towards the ruins again; she was the first to disappear.

On the eastern hills, several pure-blood wizards began walking towards the ruins, without using Apparition, simply on foot.

The war is over, and social instincts kick in.

They wanted to get closer, whether to express concern, offer compliments, or take advantage of the momentum of the Black family's recent victory to make themselves known to them.

Everyone knew that war was imminent. Dumbledore was gathering forces, while Voldemort was expanding his power. The balance of the entire British wizarding world was tilting in an increasingly dangerous direction.

The landscape will change in the next few years, but no matter how things unfold, that young man will always be at the center.

Tonight, a thirteen-year-old Black wiped out a pure-blooded family of the Twenty-Eight Holy Races from the earth, demonstrating magical abilities that surpassed those of most of the adult wizards present.

No matter how the future landscape changes, this person will be one of the core elements of that change.

Whoever is close to him will have more confidence in the upcoming situation. The basic skill of a shrewd person is to choose sides as early as possible.

They wanted to go now, but Lucius Malfoy stood at the edge of the clearing, blocking the way.

His posture was very natural, as if he just happened to be standing in this position, blocking the only path leading to the ruins that hadn't been corroded by the black mist.

"Malfoy".

The middle-aged wizard at the front of the group saw Lucius blocking the way, nodded to him, greeted him, and then tried to walk around him.

Lucius shifted slightly to the side, making half a step of space, not even enough for an adult to squeeze past.

"Gentlemen, Regulus has been fighting all night," he said in a gentle and polite tone. "He is wounded and exhausted. What he needs most after coming back from the battlefield is peace and quiet."

"Going over here now would only cause trouble for the Black family," he said, gesturing with one hand. "If you want to visit, there will be plenty of opportunities later; the Black family won't close their doors."

The middle-aged wizard stopped, glanced at Lucius, then looked over Lucius's shoulder at the firelight and figures on the distant ruins.

"Then let's do it another day." He took a step back, turned around, and left.

The group of people behind them exchanged glances, and two of them followed the middle-aged wizard, muttering a few words to each other as they left.

One of them, unwilling to give up, took a step to the side, trying to get past Lucius.

Lucius didn't stop him, but shifted his gaze to him and looked at him directly.

The man paused, hesitated for a moment, and his companion tugged at his sleeve.

"Let's go," his companion said somewhat rudely, "What's the point of staying behind if everyone else is leaving? Trying to eat alone?"

The man snorted, flicked his sleeve, and vanished in a phantom-like manner.

The last hesitant wizard opened his mouth, looked left and right, but there was no one left around him except Lucius standing in the moonlight, smiling at him.

He awkwardly straightened his collar, muttered "I'll visit another day," and left.

Lucius watched the last person's figure disappear, and only when the open space was empty did he slowly withdraw his gaze and nod in satisfaction.

He ran his hand through his hair, platinum blonde strands brushing against his fingertips, then straightened his cuffs and tidied his appearance.

Then the phantom teleported to the outermost edge of the ruins, to the edge of the Black family's vassal's cordon, without taking any further steps.

He pulled out seven or eight bottles of potions from his robe, neatly labeled: hemostatic potion, blood-replenishing potion, magic-restoring potion, and antidote, two or three of each, the bottles sealed tightly.

He handed the potions to the nearest Black family vassal, speaking politely yet reservedly: "Three for stopping the wounds, two for replenishing blood, and two for restoring health. Please pass these on to Regulus."

The vassal took the potion, glanced at the label on the bottle, nodded, and without saying a word, turned and walked deeper into the ruins.

Lucius stood there watching the figure disappear, then slowly exhaled.

The Black family must have brought their own medicine; it would be foolish to come to war without any potions.

Moreover, there may still be remnants of the Rohr family outside, and the ritual of the Contract War has not yet been completed. Under such circumstances, whether Regulus drinking a potion given by an outsider constitutes third-party intervention in the judgment of contract magic is uncertain.

Lucius knew this, and Regulus would have thought of it too; these potions most likely wouldn't be drunk.

But he still brought it and gave it away, because he's someone who values ​​family ties.

He withdrew his gaze, straightened his collar, and disappeared on the spot.

Regulus was still sitting on the foundation of the broken wall, while his vassals continued searching in the distance. The light from his wand would occasionally flash, but the noise had become very faint.

At one point, he glanced westward.

A few miles away, atop a hill, a tall figure loomed in the darkness. The moonlight obscured his features, revealing only the outline of a human form.

Two faint blue lights flashed briefly, probably around the eyes, then disappeared, then flashed again.

It looks like it's blinking.

Regulus looked in that direction, the corners of his mouth slightly turned up, his brows relaxed, and a hint of warmth appeared in his eyes.

He stared at it for a while, then raised his right hand and waved it in that direction.

In the distance, the blue light flashed again, shorter and dimmer than the previous two, like a farewell before turning away.

Then the figure disappeared, and the hilltop was empty, leaving only moonlight and wind.

Regulus lowered his hand, continued sitting, and the smile on his lips remained.

After a long time, the moon's position shifted from directly overhead to the western sky, and the clouds closed up again, covering the previous gap with new clouds.

A faint bluish-gray hue appeared on the eastern horizon, a harbinger of dawn.

The vassals who had been clearing the battlefield and searching for loot began to converge on the center. After searching all that could be searched, they took what they could and killed what they could.

Regulus stood up, stretched his shoulders, turned his neck from side to side, and bent his knees.

After drinking two bottles of potions, one to replenish blood and the other to restore energy, and resting for a while, I was finally not so tired that I couldn't even stand up.

But I still feel exhausted. The emptiness in my mind remains, which the return of magic cannot fill, nor can the recovery of physical strength.

He tried to send a little spirit towards that spot, but it was empty, with no response. It wasn't damaged or depleted; it was just temporarily empty.

I didn't pay too much attention to it, since it's just a conceptual thing. It takes time to recharge after it's used up, which makes sense.

He glanced at the vassals who had gathered around him, said nothing, nodded to them, and then turned to Silas and nodded as well.

Silas clicked back, and Regulus took a step forward and disappeared.

The air jostled in front of Gate 12 in Grimmauld Place, a muffled sound spreading through the Muggle streets before being blown away by the wind.

It was early July in London, just as dawn was breaking.

There was a faint orange band of light on the horizon, above which was a gray-blue sky, and further up were a few stars that had not yet been submerged, supporting the last bit of brightness.

The streetlights were still on, but one of them had a faulty connection and was flickering.

The streets were deserted, pigeons cooed on the rooftops, and a truck engine roared from a distant intersection, its sound muffled.

The door opened, and Walbuga came out and jogged down the steps.

Normally, she wouldn't even bother with the threshold of Grimmauld Place, let alone touch the streets of Muggles, but now she doesn't care about anything else.

She hugged Regulus, wrapped her arms around his back, tightened her grip, and pressed her whole body against him.

His mother's hair brushed against his ear, and he hugged her, gently patting her back without saying anything.

After a long while, Volbuga's muffled voice came from his shoulder: "Breakfast is ready."

Orion stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame and the other hanging at his side. He didn't go down the steps, but just stood there watching the two people embracing below, his wife and son.

Kreacher stood beside Orion's legs, his large ears flapping, his two bulbous eyes glistening with tears, his slender fingers rubbing together on his apron, trembling with excitement.

The first rays of London morning sunlight shone from the east side of the street, illuminating the porch of 12 Grimmauld Place, Orion's face, and the mother and son embracing at the bottom of the steps.

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