What Belongs to the Wizard

<Hogwarts: Regulus, Lord of the Starry Sky>: Receives rave reviews and overwhelming praise!

"This..."

The masked man adjusted his Broomstick, slightly turning it to face Regulus.

He was waiting for Regulus to introduce himself.

Regulus looked at him but said nothing.

Give my name? No need.

He believed that even if he revealed his identity, even if he killed members of Abyssal Whisper, as long as they weren't stupid, they wouldn't go to UK to retaliate, much less cause trouble in such a place.

Not to mention that the Black family is not to be trifled with, the current situation in the UK Wizarding World is so delicate.

Voldemort and Dumbledore, two wizards standing at the pinnacle of the world, formed a fragile balance.

The Death Eaters are expanding, the Order of the Phoenix is preparing, the Ministry of Magic is struggling, and the entire UK Wizarding World is tilting to one side or the other.

At this time, no outside force dares to interfere.

Even without actual intervention, simply extending a reach to UK could ignite a certain situation.

Abyssal Whisper is listed on the international Dark Wizard organization directory, far surpassing those second-rate gangs.

They may not have a resounding reputation, but in the eyes of those who truly stand tall, they are very conspicuous.

The Black family knew them, Voldemort knew them, Dumbledore better.

Once they enter UK, Voldemort will think they are reinforcements sent by Dumbledore, Dumbledore will think they are helpers recruited by Voldemort.

Neither side will tolerate third-party intervention in their territory.

Abyssal Whisper are not fools; they won't go to UK.

Even so, Regulus would not reveal his name.

There's no need for that.

Seeing that he didn't intend to speak, the masked man wasn't annoyed. He continued, "... handsome gentleman."

Regulus remained unmoved by the title; he was, of course, handsome.

Freya glanced at him sideways.

That glance was quick; her face was expressionless, her eyes devoid of emotion. She looked at it briefly, then looked away and returned her gaze to the other side.

But Regulus felt that she was probably secretly laughing to herself.

Let go of this pointless thought.

The masked man continued, his tone sincere. "You're not from the Eisenhardt family. There's no need to risk your life for something that doesn't belong to you. Leave now, and we won't stop you."

Regulus remained unmoved.

The masked man realized that the two were cut from the same cloth, each more troublesome than the other.

He shook his head, controlling the Broomstick to slowly back away, his eyes never leaving Regulus and Freya.

Just then, Regulus called out to him, "Mr. Masked Man."

The masked man stopped and stepped back, looking at him.

"What are you seeking?" Regulus asked.

The question startled the masked man.

He thought for a moment before saying, "The truth, the truth hidden in the Shenhai, those civilizations buried by time, that knowledge swallowed by the sea, those things that existed before humankind..."

He paused, as if searching for the exact word, but couldn't find it, so he mumbled, "... things."

Regulus nodded, and seeing that the other was willing to answer, he asked again, "Why do you pursue it?"

The masked man thought for a longer time this time, and after more than ten seconds, he slowly spoke, "Perhaps it's because it really exists."

These words seem to answer, yet they also seem to answer nothing at all.

I pursue it simply because it exists.

Regulus, however, understood.

The answer wasn't particularly profound, but he could understand that mindset.

We pursue and explore, not for any grand reason, but simply because it is there.

It exists, so it's worth a look; it holds secrets, so it's worth uncovering.

As for what we'll gain after solving the puzzle, that's a matter for later.

It's very similar to his attitude towards Magic research.

Regulus nodded slightly, as if to thank the other party for their reply.

The masked man glanced at him again and continued to back away.

He stepped back to stand alongside the other six people, paused, and finally said, "Miss Eisenhardt, and this handsome gentleman."

The voice still had that strange tone.

"I'll be waiting for you on the island."

After saying that, the seven of them simultaneously turned their Broomstick around and flew towards the island. Their black figures grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared into the shadows of the buildings.

After the masked man left, Freya and Regulus remained silent for a moment.

The boat bobbed gently with the waves, the sails fluttering in the sea breeze, and the small black island in the distance lay quietly on the sea, showing no sign of movement.

Regulus was thinking about the conversation they had just had.

He now knew why the masked man wanted that Maritime Document.

It points to Lost Ruins deep in the North Sea, hiding something that could change many things.

Freya had never told him any of this.

Of course, he didn't ask.

Regulus was naturally interested in, and very interested in, the ruins hidden somewhere in the world.

Especially the last thing the masked man mentioned: something that existed before humans.

Regulus had never thought about this question before.

The history of the Wizarding World is usually traced back from the Four Founders to an ancient civilization and a lost Magic system.

Did Magic exist back then?

If so, what would it be like?

He didn't know.

He only learned today, after being brought up by a wizard from what could be considered an opposing force, that there was such a group of people in the Wizarding World.

They do not fight for power, nor are they concerned with bloodlines, nor do they cheer for any Dark Lord or white demon king.

They are searching for something that truly belongs to wizards—a secret that transcends time, perspectives, and power struggles, a secret belonging to Magic itself.

Regulus recalled his own attitude towards Magic.

He studied Magic, developed spells, and constructed systems.

He wanted to know how this thing worked, what principles lay behind it, and whether he could understand and control it in his own way.

Abyssal Whisper seek the truth of Magic; he seeks the essence of Magic.

Although the directions are different, the underlying logic is the same.

This inevitably made him feel a little emotional.

How wonderful it would be if one day he could let go of the things he had to deal with and pursue the things that truly moved him.

Just like in those adventure stories, explore lost ruins in every corner of the world, unravel ancient mysteries, and touch the truths buried by time.

That kind of life is something to yearn for.

But reality is what we face.

Voldemort won't give him that time, and war won't give him that space.

The responsibilities of the Black family, the power struggles within the Pureblood families, and the watchful eyes on him all prevent him from doing these things now.

He can encounter things that move him on his path to power.

But they won't actively pursue it.

He certainly wanted to, but he couldn't.

Strength is paramount; only with sufficient strength can one have the freedom to choose.

At that time, he can go wherever he wants, do whatever he wants, and pursue any secret he wants.

But not now.

Now he must be clear-headed, rational, and focused on the goal at hand.

It will happen someday.

There was another moment of silence.

Regulus sensed that Freya was hesitant to speak; her lips moved slightly as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't.

He suddenly remembered the question she had asked a few days ago, and then thought of the coordinates the masked man had mentioned, the sea ruins, and the document that recorded the coordinates.

Regulus had a hunch that this might be the ultimate goal, or rather, the final mission.

The answer to that question might be hidden in those ruins.

He turned to face Freya.

She stood there, still with that heroic and upright appearance, but her demeanor was completely different from when they were negotiating earlier.

When she confronted the masked man just now, she exuded a dignified majesty, like a snow-covered mountain peak, making people afraid to approach.

Now that air of awe has vanished. She looks somewhat hesitant, her lips pursed, as if she wants to tell the whole story, but also has some reservations.

Regulus didn't make things difficult for her.

He didn't press her about the documents, the ruins, or what she was hiding.

He simply asked gently, "How will we fight later?"

Freya was taken aback.

She looked at him with a hint of surprise; after such a long silence, she had assumed he would definitely press for answers.

After all, things have progressed to this point, and any normal person would be curious and want to know more.

But he didn't ask.

Freya secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

But at the same time, she had a somewhat inexplicable feeling, as if he had circumvented her.

Looking at his slightly smiling face, she felt as if she had been seen through, yet also as if nothing had been seen through at all.

Her expression shifted, and finally it looked a bit like she glared at him.

"Revenge," she said, trying to keep her tone calm, "Of course, with all my might."

Regulus simply nodded. "Okay."

Freya looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then asked hesitantly, "Regulus, you really don't want to ask me anything?"

Regulus simply smiled at her without saying a word.

Freya met his gaze.

During normal conversations, she felt no pressure making eye contact with Regulus.

Her gaze was always direct; she would look at me when she wanted to, and look away when she wanted to.

But now she's starting to feel the strain.

The boy just smiled at her, saying nothing, his eyes seeming to hold a lot, yet also nothing at all.

She didn't know what he was thinking, what he had figured out, or what he would say next.

She first looked away, then turned her head away, no longer looking at him.

As she turned her head, she rolled her eyes.

Regulus saw this and his smile widened even further.

Freya pretended not to notice his expression, raised her wand, and waved it towards the cabin.

The hatch opened, and two Flying Broomstick flew out and hovered in front of the two people.

The old model has a smooth wooden Broomstick and neatly trimmed branches at the end, just like the ones used by these Regulus.

Freya picked one up and handed it to Regulus.

Regulus accepted it.

"Let's go." Freya's tone had returned to normal.

She straddled the Broomstick, clamped her legs together, and soared into the air, flying towards the small black island.

Regulus watched her retreating figure, then mounted his Broomstick.

The island was getting closer.

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