Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 593 A decent person doesn't brand a skull.

The day before school started, London finally cleared up at the end of August, and a rare ray of clean sunlight shone through the window of 12 Grimmauld Place.

During this time of day, Regulus would either be reading in his room or in the underground practice room, rarely coming to this study.

He came today, pushed open the door, didn't say hello, and sat down directly in the chair opposite the desk.

Orion, behind his desk, didn't even lift his eyelids, holding a quill pen in his hand, signing a document from the Ministry of Magic's Commercial Registration Division.

The business license for the newly opened resonant disc manufacturing shop in Diagon Alley has finally reached the signing and stamping stage after a three-month process.

The Black family's businesses are licensed by the Black family themselves, forming a closed business loop, so they don't need to bother others.

Kreacher appeared with a snap, carrying a silver tray with a cup of Sri Lankan black tea on it. He floated the teacup to Regulus, bowed deeply, and then vanished with a snap.

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and leisurely watched his father work, his gaze shifting from Orion's pen to the stack of documents on the table, and then from the documents to the dappled sunlight streaming in through the window.

Seven or eight minutes passed, and Orion found that the kid was more at ease than he was, sitting with his legs crossed, drinking tea, his eyes fixed on the window, looking at something.

He put down his pen, folded the approval document and put it aside, then took out a Black family seal from the drawer next to him and pressed it onto the wax seal.

He then raised his eyes, looked at Regulus for a moment, and a hint of expectation flashed in his eyes.

"Have you read Arcturus I's notes?"

The notebook was filled with chaotic symbols and warnings. He himself only flipped through three pages before his head started to ache terribly, as if something was pushing his head outwards. It took him several days to recover.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, a hint of smugness in his voice: "I don't have a headache."

His mental strength and spiritual capacity, honed through more than two years of Star Orbit Meditation, far surpassed Orion's level back then, and the notes posed no physical obstacle to him.

Orion stared at him expressionlessly.

I'm glad you don't have a headache, but then what?

Regulus coughed lightly, put down his teacup, and leaned back in his chair.

"The preceding part is very well organized. Arcturus I recorded all the methods and steps for physical enhancement in great detail. Each step was marked, and the records of practice were complete. It clearly recorded what level was reached in which year and where the body's limits were."

He looked at his father and said casually, "The method is effective. He has lived for 137 years and his body is extremely strong."

Orion nodded. He knew some of the first part, the things passed down in his family, about the direction of Arcturus I's physical enhancement. He had heard some things, but not the specific details in the notes.

Regulus leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on his knees, his gray eyes brightening slightly: "The interesting part is what comes after."

His tone became enthusiastic: "In the middle part, the logic of the notes started to break down. The words were still words, but the thoughts jumped around wildly, and the connections between sentences became very strange, as if he was thinking about several things at the same time and then writing them all down at once."

Later, symbols began to appear interspersed within the text, not found in any known writing system. They resembled irregularly shaped, varying in size, and scattered among the words and sentences.

Orion frowned slightly and listened quietly.

"Those last few pages are completely unreadable," Regulus's eyes began to gleam. "It's a completely different way of expressing things. Normal people can't fit into it. I think it must be a distorted soul recording things in its own way."

Orion frowned even deeper, finding it somewhat difficult to understand.

He was an excellent wizard, quite skilled, with a profound understanding of the soul. The Black family's dark magic heritage, accumulated over generations, contained a considerable amount of material on the soul, including many books.

But his thoughts were still caught up in the idea of ​​a distorted soul; he had never heard of it, much less thought about it.

The very word "abnormality" demonstrates that Regulus's understanding of the soul far surpasses that of his father.

Regulus continued speaking to himself, partly sharing with his father and partly organizing his own thoughts.

"What I'm more curious about is how the distortion of the soul actually occurs."

Orion sat across from him and listened without interrupting him.

"There are several possibilities," Regulus said, extending his left hand and pointing in the air. "The first is that the body forces the soul to submit."

After the body was strengthened to its limit, the container became too rigid, trapping the soul inside. The soul, long compressed, began to deform passively and was forced out.

He then pointed to another point: "The second one was done by Arcturus I himself."

After discovering the problem, he began trying to save himself, perhaps using some extreme mental manipulation or forcibly tearing the connection between his soul and body. In any case, things got worse and worse; each attempt deformed his soul a little, until finally, everything was completely chaotic.

Click a third time: "The third one, the soul is finding its own way out."

When the soul is trapped in a place from which it cannot escape, its instinct is to be free. When it is trapped for too long, it will struggle. The way it struggles becomes uncontrollable, chaotic, and directionless. The result of this struggle is distortion.

If this is the reason, it becomes even more interesting, meaning that soul distortion is not the result of human choice, but rather an objective law.

His eyes reflected the sunlight streaming through the window: "Three directions may exist simultaneously, but in a certain order."

First, the body trapped the soul, then he discovered this and began to save himself. As his self-rescue failed, his soul also struggled internally. These three forces combined to distort the soul into a completely abnormal state.

Orion thought for a moment and asked, "Do you think those symbols at the end are valuable?"

"Yes," Regulus nodded, his tone certain: "Those symbols are the distorted souls recording something in their own way."

Arcturus I may have understood things that normal people couldn't understand in that state, but he was no longer able to record them in normal writing.

I don't understand it yet, we'll talk about it later.

Orion looked at Regulus and remained silent for a moment.

He had only read three pages of something that gave him a headache, but his son was able to understand it so deeply.

I feel somewhat relieved.

But it's too early to be happy.

Regulus sighed, a hint of longing in his eyes: "Our ancestor is truly worthy of being called our ancestor. He actually managed to distort the soul. I've never heard of such a thing before."

"I don't know..." He looked at Orion, his tone a little cautious, "Could we meet this ancestor? No disrespect intended, it's just... in our family, we bury the dead directly, maybe it... is still alive?"

Orion stared at him speechlessly, and after a long while, sighed helplessly.

He looked at his son's face, his brows furrowing and relaxing, relaxing and furrowing again.

This kid seems serious; he's really considering this.

To see the ancestors?

Why don't you dig your great-great-great-grandfather out of his grave and examine him?

Orion's voice wasn't angry, just utterly helpless: "You want to dig up your ancestors' graves?"

Regulus glanced at his father's expression and blinked. "I was just asking."

Don't even ask.

"Tsk."

I'll just take a look, without causing any damage, after all, they are my own ancestors. But it doesn't seem to work with my father. I'll put it aside for now and think of another way.

Orion glanced at him sideways, too lazy to pay attention, picked up his teacup, took a sip, turned his gaze to the window, and only looked back after a while.

He changed the subject: "How was the party last night? Who went?"

Regulus curled his lip: "Lucius only intended to invite about ten, but more than fifty showed up, most of them uninvited Death Eaters."

Someone jumped out to probe the Black family's stance, asking why they weren't branded with the Dark Mark, and when the Black family would stand with them.

He spread his hands: "And you say you're under the same flag."

After listening, Orion gave a nonchalant "hmm".

Given the size and status of the Black family, and the power of Regulus, this was something that was expected and not surprising.

He casually asked, "Would you like to be branded with the Dark Mark?"

"I don't want to," Regulus shook his head, then blinked, a glint of amusement in his gray eyes. "Father, do you want to?"

Orion frowned again.

What kind of weird question is that?

Before his father could respond, Regulus continued, "Who in their right mind would brand a skull onto their arm?"

He looked at Orion with his eyes, but Orion not only didn't cooperate, he also looked at him with a very strange expression.

Regulus added, "If someone has a brand on their body, can they still be considered a decent person?"

After saying that, he picked up his teacup and took a sip.

Orion looked at his son with a puzzled expression.

The Black family would never brand their members; this stance was set from the beginning and doesn't need to be discussed further.

But what was that kid saying?

What exactly happened to Regulus outside? How did he become like this?

After beating up the Luo family, I lay quietly in bed for a month. Nothing unusual happened, except that I was tired and too lazy to move.

Then he went out to find Dumbledore and stayed for another half a month. When he came back, he was acting strangely. He became more talkative and lively, and he would make sarcastic remarks in front of his father.

In the past, Regulus always seemed to be chased by something.

He pursues power and growth, is meticulous and serious in his work, and hides all his emotions beneath the surface.

The pressure has significantly decreased, and I feel much more relaxed.

The ease comes from strength; being strong enough means there's no need to be constantly on edge.

A person only relaxes when they feel safe. Regulus relaxed, which shows that he had enough confidence in his own power.

As a father, he liked to see this change; he didn't want his son to be so tired.

But now it seems a bit too active. What do you mean, "A respectable person doesn't brand skulls"? If it's not a skull, why would you brand it?

He's a bit unreliable; I'm afraid he's been corrupted by Dumbledore.

Regulus noticed his father was giving him a strange look, which was utterly baffling, so he shrugged.

That's enough, I've told my father about it. If any Death Eaters cause trouble again, it means my father hasn't done his job properly and needs to be criticized.

“There’s one more thing,” Regulus continued, still in a relaxed tone, “I chatted with Lucius and Narcissa at the Malfoys’ house yesterday, and I mentioned Abraxas to them.”

Orion waved his hand: "It's up to you."

Previously, the father and son planned to wait until something really happened to Abraxas, and until Lucius felt the pressure, before taking action to win over the Malfoy family.

But for the Black family now, the Malfoy family is no longer as important.

They have no shortage of connections, political resources, or money. At the current level of the Black family, there is only one thing that can determine the family's survival or even its further advancement: power.

He glanced at Regulus.

Power was sitting right across from him.

Orion continued to change the subject, pulling out a document from the pile next to him and flipping through a couple of pages: "The resonant disks are already in mass production in France, and the material suppliers along the Mediterranean coast are adapting to the new standards."

After the start of the semester, Beauxbatons will incorporate the resonant disc into the teaching tools of alchemy; it has already been agreed upon.

In the UK, three shops have opened in Diagon Alley as a trial, with the Cuthbert and Malfoy families involved, responsible for the peripheral production and retail channels. The core loop design is still in our hands.

Regulus picked up his teacup and took another sip.

This matter can be left to Father. The young master of the Blake family only needs to spend money, not earn it.

Orion closed the document: "Let more people rely on the Black family for their livelihood. No matter who wins or loses in the future, the Black family will be irreplaceable."

Regulus gave his father an approving look.

Orion fell silent again, his lips twitching slightly.

This kid is really crazy.

"Where's the black wand?"

Regulus blinked, his expression utterly innocent: "What wand?"

Orion stared at him expressionlessly.

Again.

He sighed helplessly. "Let's keep him then. This kid is easy to use."

The topic shifted again: "Did you go see Sirius Black?"

Regulus nodded, his tone relaxed: "He went, and he's doing well at the Potters' house. He's eating a lot and has grown taller."

Orion paused for a moment: "The matter of expulsion should be handled."

Sirius Black was to go to Dumbledore's side, to the light; this was something the father and son had decided long ago.

The Death Eaters are now testing the Black family. If war breaks out, or even before it does, given the current situation, if Sirius Black is still listed in the family tree, he will be a weakness, a target.

Someone wanted to target the Blake family, and little Blake, who had already run to the other side, was the easiest way.

Regulus raised an eyebrow: "Did you tell your mother?"

"not yet."

"Should I go and say it?"

"Otherwise what?"

Regulus stood up and straightened his clothes: "Alright, I'll go."

He walked toward the door, and Orion added from behind, "Watch your words, don't bring that 'decent people don't brand skulls' thing over there."

Regulus raised his hand, waved, and pushed open the door to leave.