Freedom Above the Clouds

Three hundred kilometers per hour, five hundred, eight hundred.

The Shield Charm shell hummed, and the sound of airflow friction changed from a low, muffled thud to a sharp, piercing screech.

However, the high-frequency vibrations that occurred last time were gone. After the structural changes, the aerodynamic load distribution was more reasonable, and the outer shell could withstand the load.

Regulus began to rise.

The cliffs seemed to shrink beneath our feet, while the sea stretched out below, growing ever wider, the white foam of the waves shrinking into thin lines.

one thousand.

The air ahead began to accumulate, moving too fast for the air to make way.

Compression ripples appeared, visible to the naked eye, layer upon layer, superimposed in front of the Flying Device. Light was deflected when it passed through the ripples, making the outside scenery appear shaky.

He continued adding.

The ripples grew denser and tighter, and the walls of air pressed ever thicker.

The outer shell of the Shield Charm began to shake, approaching the transonic speed range. Local airflow had already exceeded the speed of sound on the surface of the shell, and the resulting shock waves repeatedly struck the shell, causing the entire structure to vibrate.

Shock wave drag.

He increased the sweep angle of the wing surfaces, Magic Power adjusted it, and pulled the wing surfaces back a few degrees on both sides, increasing the leading edge sweep angle from a dozen degrees to over thirty degrees. The frontal area was reduced, and the air compression effect was distributed over a larger wingspan, thus reducing shock wave drag.

The nozzles were pushed to their limits, unleashing maximum Fiendfyre.

The orange-red jet of gas became brighter and more powerful, leaving a long trail of fire behind it. The flame patterns turned from orange-red to dark red, and the temperature soared. The entire Flying Device surged forward, and the next moment, the compression wave was pierced through.

The accumulated air explodes from the nose and leading edge of the wing, spreading in conical white mist in all directions, Mach Cone, a visualization of shock waves at supersonic speeds.

Sonic boom.

The shockwave exploded outwards from around the Flying Device.

After breaking the Sound barrier, everything fell silent. The wind stopped; he was faster than the wind, and the wind couldn't catch him.

The Shield Charm's outer shell stopped shaking. In pure supersonic mode, the shock wave became an oblique shock wave that followed the surface of the outer shell and no longer struck the shell. The aerodynamic load actually decreased.

The world has become cleaner.

He watched the sea rushing past his feet, everything on the surface turning into blurry gray-blue streaks.

Fast, really fast, speed erases all details; the world is reduced to colors, directions, and himself.

This feeling made the corners of his mouth involuntarily turn upwards.

Regulus continued to rise.

The clouds above, gray and heavy, squeezed him in the middle along with the sea.

As we passed through the clouds, the moisture hit the outer shell of the Shield Charm, obscuring our vision and making everything appear gray and white; we could see nothing at all.

In a second, it was out.

Above the clouds, the sky deepened, becoming a dark, profound, and pure blue, with a faint hint of purple at the edges.

The sun hung behind them, unobstructed, its light shining directly down, making the Shield Charm shimmer and the leading edges of the wings reflect a white light. Below them stretched an endless sea of clouds, white, surging, and shimmering with gold edges in the sunlight.

The clouds are undulating, with hill-like ridges and valley-like depressions. The wind blows the surface of the clouds into layers of ripples, making it look like a slowly flowing white desert from above.

The distant horizon curved into a visible arc.

The Earth is round.

At that altitude and speed, he saw it.

Regulus began to slow down.

With thrust reduced and nozzles turned downwards, the Fiendfyre orange jet counteracted gravity, slowing the Flying Device down from supersonic to Hiss, and then to hovering, steadily suspended above the clouds.

Quiet.

At this altitude, there is almost no wind; only extremely thin air currents pass by from the side.

Baruk emerged fully from the inner pouch, its eight amber eyes wide open, staring at the sea of clouds below and the deep blue sky above. Its chelipeds opened slightly, but didn't close completely, remaining half-open for a while before clicking.

Spiders had never seen anything like this before.

It drew out the syllable. "Beautiful..."

Regulus surveyed everything before him.

He took a deep breath; the air was thin and cold, and it stung his lungs a little, but he didn't care.

free.

This word has never been so specific.

He was above the clouds, with the whole world beneath his feet and the deep blue of space above him. The sun hung low in the west, its light filling his entire field of vision.

Nobody knows he's here.

There was no Voldemort, no Pure-blood Circle, no Hogwarts schedule, and no off-campus political maneuvering.

He was all alone, a spider, and a ball of Fiendfyre, suspended between heaven and earth.

He stayed there for a long time.

The sea of clouds slowly rolled beneath my feet. In some places, the clouds were thinner, and I could vaguely see the sea below, a grayish-blue color that seemed unreal from afar. In other places, the clouds were so thick that they piled up like small mountains, their tops bathed in golden-white sunlight, while their sides cast deep gray shadows.

He turned the output of the Fiendfyre to the lowest level, just enough to maintain hovering. Orange-red light flowed down from the nozzles beneath his feet, illuminating a small circle of light on the surface of the clouds.

The Starry Sky Kite had flown up sometime earlier, its silvery light piercing through the clouds, particularly beautiful against the golden light on the surface of the sea of clouds. It circled him once, then cried out, its voice carrying far and wide at this altitude, unobstructed by anything, clear and trembling. A man, a spider, and a bird, suspended above the world.

The sun sank a little lower.

The sea of clouds gradually turned from white-gold to orange-red, the blue of the sky deepened, and a very faint dark hue appeared on the distant horizon. Night was chasing after us from the other side of the earth.

He began to descend.

With increased Fiendfyre and redirected thrust, the Flying Device flipped over, nose down, and swooped down from above the clouds.

The clouds rolled from my feet to my head, the dampness blurred my vision again, and then suddenly everything opened up.

The grey-blue sea appeared, much darker than when he arrived. The sun shone above the clouds, and darkness was beginning to fall on the world below. Cliffs stretched out in the distance, and the Cornwall coastline stretched out in a winding pattern, grey-blue and dark green hues intermingling, waves crashing against the rocks and creating white foam. He flew close to the water along the coastline for a while, then slowed to Hiss. The sea receded rapidly beneath his feet, the waves being flattened by the air currents, leaving a white trail.

The seagull burst from its nest on the cliff face, startled by the gust of wind. It swayed a couple of times in the wind, then cried out, looking quite displeased. Regulus darted past it, moving so fast that the seagull didn't even see what it was before he was already far away.

Pull up, slow down, descend towards the edge of the cliff, and land.

The Shield Charm's outer shell scattered into silver Light Point. Fiendfyre retracted into his palm, the orange-red flames shrinking beneath his skin and disappearing.

He stood on the grass, breathing heavily, his chest heaving a few times, and stretched his shoulders.

My legs felt a little weak; the Anti-G Charm had taken a toll on my body at supersonic speeds, and my body was still bearing some load.

But it's much better than last time; after catching my breath, my legs stopped shaking.

He grinned, a silent smile playing on his lips.

Baruk climbed from his shoulder to his head, his eight legs gripping his hair, his chelipeds making a crisp, urgent clicking sound, "Sound! Faster! Beautiful! Again!"

Regulus reached over and lifted it off his head, placing it back on his shoulder. "Sound, quick, next time."

"Let's go see the professor."

As we walked back, it grew completely dark, and the sea in Cornwall turned from gray-blue to deep gray.

When they arrived at the open space to the north, Professor Sprout was still there.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his hands were covered in mud, and over his previously clean robe, he had somehow put on an apron, probably sent by Agnes, which was also covered in mud.

She dug several shallow trenches in the ground, exposing part of the root system. She was making a final check, tracing the roots with her fingers, muttering to herself. Hearing footsteps, she looked up at Regulus: "What are you doing out there? There were several noises just now."

"Tried a spell." Regulus's smile lingered, his tone casual.

The professor grunted an "oh," didn't even glance at him, and landed back on the tree roots.

She beckoned, "Come and take a look."

Regulus crouched down beside her.

The professor pointed to a spot at the base of the tree, his fingertip lightly touching the bark. "The circuit here is connected; it reconnected itself, better than I expected. The root system has already accepted the section of the cycle you rebuilt with the Natural Magic Power as its own, and it's expanding outwards."

She pointed to another spot. "But there's a problem here. The scab is crooked, so the Magic Power will take a detour, which is inefficient. I need to correct it, otherwise it might grow even crooked on its own."

She stood up and patted the mud off her knees. "This tree is tough; it won't die."

She looked at the Whomping Willow, her gaze gentle.

Regulus stood up, glanced at the professor, then at the Whomping Willow, and then back at the professor.

"Professor," he said, his tone becoming more earnest, "Could we take it back to Hogwarts? It'll be much better cared for in your Greenhouse than exposed to the elements here, and it'll save you from constantly traveling to Cornwall."

The professor turned to look at him, raised an eyebrow, and then a slight smile appeared on her lips.

She knew Regulus was offering her a way out, but she stepped on it comfortably.

Of course she wanted to take the tree back with her.

She spent the whole afternoon squatting there, and the more she looked at the tree, the more interesting she found it.

Its root system has a stronger self-repairing ability than most Magical Plant, and its Magic Circuit regeneration mode is also different, possessing a gentle attribute she has never seen before.

It's probably a trace left by Regulus's Natural Magic Power.

"Perfect, it'll keep the one in the Castle."

The professor spoke in a light tone, clearly already thinking about how to arrange things.

She drew her wand; the wood looked old, with a few shallow scratches on its surface.

She raised her wand, her lips moved, and she chanted a long incantation, her voice muffled and indistinct.

Magic Power flowed from the tip of the staff, like water, fine and dense, seeping into the soil around the Whomping Willow.

The soil began to loosen, starting from the outermost layer of the root system and retreating layer by layer, exposing the entire root system without damaging any of the fibrous roots. Then the soil gathered around the root system again, compacted, and formed a complete soil ball, enveloping the entire root system of the Whomping Willow and the surrounding soil.

The earthen ball slowly rose up and floated in the air, its diameter about five meters, with tree trunks and branches extending from the top of the ball.

The Whomping Willow branch swayed slightly, the thinnest tip bending towards the professor, but it didn't lash out.

It lacks strength, or perhaps it simply doesn't want to.

Sprout carried the ball of clay, its wand guiding its movement effortlessly, as if carrying a slightly oversized potted plant. She gestured with her chin towards the exit. "Let's go."

Agnes appeared nearby, her eyes brightening as she watched the professor float the five-meter-tall ball of earth through the air. "Professor Sprout," she said, catching up to him, "Could you take a look at that Temperature-Maintaining Charm next time you come?"

"Sure, sure," the professor replied as he walked. "Send a layout drawing of the Greenhouse to Hogwarts. I'll take a look first, and we can get right to work next time I come."

"Very good."

The two witches started chatting again, walking ahead with Regulus following behind.

Baruk, perched on his shoulder with his eight legs curled up, turned his head toward Professor Sprout's back, sizing her up.

The spider felt a gentle click of its chelicerae; the witch's aura soothed it.

Upon reaching the entrance to the Plantation, Regulus and the professor bid farewell to Agnes.

Regulus put his hand on the professor's shoulder.

Smack

Hogwarts.