Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 549 The Person Who Came to Our Door

As you continue deeper into the canyon, the pebbles on the lake shore gradually turn into harder and larger rock slabs, and the ground begins to climb upwards again.

The glacial lake narrows at its western end, with the mountain walls on both sides closing in and the stream squeezing out from the narrow opening, making the current rapid and white spray tumbling between the rocks.

The air grew colder, the temperature dropped below zero, and a thin layer of ice began to form on the stone slabs underfoot. Some parts crumbled when stepped on, while others were as hard as glass, smooth and reflective.

A new row of marks appeared on the rock face: burn marks.

The rock surface was burned at high temperatures, giving it a glassy black luster. There were drip marks on the edges where the rock had melted and then solidified, flowing down the rock surface for more than ten centimeters before freezing.

The burned areas are not large, each about half a meter square, but they are densely distributed, arranged in a row along the rock, with a height of about three or four meters.

Five claw marks overlapped the burn marks, smaller and deeper than those on the pine tree, the claw tips leaving white scratches on the burned rock surface.

Geralt looked up at the height and distribution of the marks: dragons.

The small size of the dragon is indicated by the spacing and depth of the claw marks, with a wingspan of about four or five meters. The high temperature of the burn marks, but the small area, suggests that the flames were ejected over a short distance and within a narrow range.

The probability of the fu is that it is an Icelandic species, a small dragon from a cold highland region. It is more docile than the Norwegian drake and usually does not actively attack creatures of giant size, but it will hunt reindeer and medium-sized animals within its territory.

The ecological niche distribution in this valley is very interesting. Giants roam the valley floor, dragons nest in the mountain walls and high caves, and reindeer live on the scree slopes and meadows in the middle layer.

Each occupied its own space and ate its own food; a rough balance was maintained for at least several hundred years.

A spontaneously formed multi-species symbiotic system.

Fabian leaned closer and touched the glassy black surface of the rock wall. It was very hard. He scratched it with his fingernail but left no mark.

He looked up at the sky, searching for the dragon's shadow.

Jadion looked up at the snow and caves on the mountaintop, his gaze lingering on a few dark openings before returning to his own.

After passing through the narrow valley, the valley floor opened up again.

The ground became more rugged, with large boulders scattered on both sides of the road, some two or three meters high, covered with lichen.

The stream almost disappeared in this section; the water seeped into the ground, and the occasional sound of flowing water could be heard underfoot.

After walking a little further, a huge skeleton appeared next to a large boulder, half-buried in the rubble, with its skull facing upwards.

The skull has two thick, curved horns with a metallic sheen, and there are marks of chopping on the skeleton.

Several ribs were cleanly severed with a sharp weapon, such as an axe or a large knife, using tremendous force.

A section of the spine was split in the middle and tilted to the sides. The bones of the hind legs were gone, leaving only a section of the pelvis and a few scattered bone fragments.

There are also other tiny tooth marks on the skeleton, densely packed along the edges of the ribs and scapula, looking like the teeth of a wolf or fox, as well as traces of birds pecking, and some shallow chisel holes on the bone surface.

Fabian squatted down next to the skeleton, touched the horn, and ran his fingers along the metallic sheen of the horn, feeling an unusual temperature on his fingertips.

He nodded: "Stonehorn."

Gideon walked over, examined the cut surface of the rib and the tooth marks on the bone fragments, touched the edge of the cut with the tip of his wand, looked at the color of the fracture, and nodded: "The skeleton is relatively new, about two or three weeks old."

Geralt walked around the skeleton and glanced at the ground around him.

There were numerous footprints around the skeleton, of varying sizes and depths, indicating at least three or four giants.

Multiple giants participated in the hunt. The footprints were distributed in a regular pattern, converging from the east and west sides of the skeleton to form a semi-enclosed arc.

Collective hunting, organized and coordinated killing.

Ordinary Titans fight alone; they eat what they can catch, and go hungry if they can't.

These animals not only cooperated in the hunt, but they were also picky eaters. After slaughtering their prey, they would take a few good pieces and leave the rest behind. Then other animals in the valley would come to collect the remains: wolves would gnaw on the bones, foxes would pick up scraps of meat, and birds would dig out the marrow.

Knowing what you want and leaving what you don't want to nature, and knowing how to leave leftovers for the downstream of the food chain, shows you know how to manage your life.

He glanced at the two stone horns again; they were well-preserved and in excellent condition, enough to fetch a small box of Galleons in Diagon Alley.

The horn of the stone horn contains natural metallic mineral components and is extremely hard. It is a top-grade catalyst in alchemy, and it was just left here to weather.

If someone were to establish a good relationship with the giants and contract this hunting ground, the annual output from collecting stone horns and glacier salmon alone would be enough to open a medium-sized potion ingredient shop.

Fabian stood up, brushing the dust off his knees. "So these giants... hunt in groups?"

Gideon nodded in agreement: "They worked together very well."

Geralt straightened up and gestured with his chin towards the two brothers: "Finished watching? Let's go."

The three continued forward, the valley became narrower and narrower, the mountain walls on both sides became higher and higher, and the ground changed from rock to gravel.

After reaching a certain spot, the surroundings suddenly became quiet.

Fabian shuddered, as if he had sensed something was wrong, and scanned his surroundings.

Gideon also slowed his pace, his hands hanging at his sides, and moved closer to his wand.

The reindeer droppings are gone, the Arctic fox footprints are gone, the golden eagles overhead no longer fly, the rock ptarmigan's calls have disappeared, and even the moss has thinned out.

The smell in the air had changed; the faint fishy odor had disappeared, replaced by something more spacious.

It was like walking across an invisible line, one side of which was teeming with life, while the other side was completely empty.

There was no clear boundary underfoot, but the body could feel the change. The echoes of footsteps between the rock walls were shorter than before, as if part of the sound had been absorbed by something.

The two brothers looked at each other, then both turned their gaze to Geralt's back.

Geralt was still walking, his speed and pace unchanged, his posture relaxed and casual.

The two brothers exchanged a glance, Fabian shrugged and followed, while Gideon lagged behind, walking at the very back.

After walking for a while, Geralt's senses detected a magical signal that did not belong to the natural environment.

It was very faint, coming from a narrow crack about eight or nine meters above the left rock face.

An extremely subtle magical fluctuation was emanating from there, with a very low frequency and a very small amplitude. It was almost indistinguishable due to the natural magical background in the environment, and an ordinary wizard would most likely not notice it as they walked by.

But it was obvious to him.

The monitoring spell was deployed approximately one to two weeks ago, and its coverage extends outward from this crack to the entire passage.

No need to guess, it's old Avery's.

Regulus had seen this person before, more than once. There were only so many people in the pureblood circle, and the higher you went, the fewer people there were. It was impossible for him not to recognize him.

At every banquet from childhood to adulthood, and at the Malfoy family wedding, I would always stop and say a few words whenever I saw him.

This wasn't the first time I'd heard that old Avery was in charge of giant affairs; Lucius had mentioned it at Malfoy Manor after the incident at the werewolf camp.

Voldemort handed over the giants' communications to old Avery, while Lucius managed the werewolves' affairs himself. The division of labor was clear, and each was in charge of their own area.

Avery the Elder was the patriarch of House Avery, one of the Twenty-Eight Holy Families, a pure-blood family as ancient as House Black, and one of Voldemort's earliest followers during his time at Hogwarts.

But he is different from Rohr, different from Dolokhov, and even more different from Lestrange.

Those guys are the combat type, they have blood on their hands, they're always at the forefront of missions. Old Avery isn't like that, he's the one in charge.

Old Avery was in charge of a large part of the logistical work within Voldemort's camp, including the flow of funds, allocation of supplies, management of safe houses, and international communications.

He was not seen on the battlefield, but even the wand supplies of those on the battlefield were related to him.

Dumbledore said that old Avery had come once, but was rejected by the giants and couldn't even enter the camp gate, but he certainly couldn't just leave like that.

Voldemort was no good boss; if he took on a task and didn't finish it, the consequences wouldn't be pleasant.

Now is a critical period for Voldemort's expansion. Everyone around him is vying for a position. Whoever can get things done will stand in front, and whoever cannot get things done will step back.

So failing the first time doesn't mean he's given up; he'll definitely try a second and a third time.

He needs information before he goes in again.

Who is approaching the giant camp? When did they arrive? How many are there? Which direction are they coming from? Are they trying to steal our lives?

So he placed a monitoring spell on the path.

The way managers behave is that if they can't just go in directly, they first build up an external intelligence network, wait to see how the situation changes, wait to see if others come, and wait to find an opportunity.

Regulus suddenly thought of old Raoul.

If old Raoul were rejected by the Titans, he would probably smash down the Titans' door, kill all the Titans who rejected him, burn half of the Titan camp, and then walk in through the ruins to ask if anyone else has any objections.

Those who do things and those who manage things, executors and managers, have completely different ways of thinking and completely different approaches to solving problems.

Voldemort was surrounded by a wealth of talented people, with all sorts of styles.

Geralt kept walking, and after a few dozen steps, he confirmed that he was already within the coverage area of ​​the monitoring spell.

He released a burst of magic from his body, enough for the monitoring spell to detect.

Then he looked at the road ahead. A large rock lay across the middle of the valley floor. Its surface was weathered and relatively smooth. It was just right for one person to sit, too much for two people, and not enough for three people.

He walked over and sat down. Fabian and Gideon followed him, looking at Geralt sitting on the rock with questioning expressions.

Fabian glanced at the valley ahead, then at Geralt, grinned, and asked with a hint of competitiveness, "Can't go on? Tired of walking?"

Gideon stood a little behind him, seemingly lost in thought, and began to survey his surroundings.

Geralt crossed one leg over the other, braced his hands on the rock, and leaned back. His amber pupils were half-closed, and the corner of his mouth twisted slightly. "Take a break, wait for someone."

Fabian paused for a moment, then asked, "Waiting for whom?"

Geralt looked at the rock wall at the bend in the canyon ahead, and his lips curled up slightly: "They've delivered themselves to our doorstep."

Fabian turned to look at Gideon, who was also looking at him.

Fabian placed his hand on his wand, and Gideon slightly adjusted his position, moving from directly in front of Geralt to the side and slightly behind, where he had a better view.

About five, six, seven, or eight minutes later, a few faint muffled sounds came from afar, and the air was compressed and then bounced back.

Several figures appeared behind the bend in the rock wall ahead.

The one walking at the front was in his early fifties, not very tall, and rather thin but not frail. He was wearing a dark blue-gray formal robe that didn't look flashy but gave the impression of being expensive.

He was dressed as if he were going to a banquet in the middle of nowhere. He was not wearing a mask or a black robe. His hair was gray and neatly combed without a single stray hair. His face was expressionless, and his eyes were calm.

Three people followed behind him, dressed in black robes and wearing silver masks, with wands in their hands and hanging at their sides with the tips pointing downwards. The two in front of him were relatively relaxed, clearly experienced, and walked as if their shadows were touching the ground.

The last one was clearly younger, with his shoulders hunched, neck slightly hunched, gripping his wand more tightly, and his gaze constantly shifting, from Geralt to the Prewitt brothers, and back to Geralt again, in very short intervals.

Old Avery stopped about a dozen steps away from Geralt, and the three men behind him also stopped a few steps away.

Geralt sat up straighter, one hand bracing against the rock surface, the other arm resting on his raised knee, his amber pupils narrowed as he stared at the group.

His gaze swept over old Avery first, then fell on the young Death Eater, clicked his tongue, and then looked away.

His lips curled upwards again.

>