A New Way to Fight

With the appearance sorted out, the next step is Magic Power; a new face alone isn't enough.

A wizard with a keen Magic Perception can detect the essence of a person's Magic Power with just a glance.

The appearance has changed, but the Magic Power remains; experienced people can still remember the feeling.

No matter where I am in the future, I will inevitably have to deal with this type of person.

You might not recognize who he is, but you'll remember what he looks like.

Once someone is remembered, the next time you encounter them, you'll recognize them simply by their Magic Power aura; any attempt at disguise will be futile.

Therefore, we need to change the way Magic Power works too.

His original Magic Power characteristics are very clear.

Calm, restrained, precise, the Magic Power was compressed within his body, flowing smoothly with minimal fluctuations. The edges of each incantation were neatly trimmed, with no excess spilling out.

If a perceptive person were to probe closer, they would only encounter an extremely thin and smooth shell, devoid of excess heat or any outward sharpness. Everything is inside; there is nothing on the outside.

His Magic Power was always like this; it was innate, and he didn't need to control it to become like this.

This is his trademark, and also his consistent style.

Now we need to reverse the approach, switching from a calm, restrained, and precise style to an outward-looking, aggressive style.

The Magic Power must leak out, overflow, and form a scorching, restless, and aggressive aura on the body's surface.

Light leaking out isn't enough; simply losing control will cause Magic Power to dissipate like a shapeless fog.

True oppression needs direction, it needs texture, it needs to make people feel that this Magic Power is about to explode at any moment, but the direction of the explosion must always be towards oneself.

He closed his eyes, his consciousness sank into the depths of his mind, and summoned the explosive imagery of Betelgeuse.

A red supergiant star, located on the left shoulder of Orion, with a mass dozens of times that of the Sun.

Its surface temperature is much lower than that of a main sequence star, and all the energy is churning inside. The outer layers of matter are constantly expanding and contracting, and it may collapse into a supernova at any time.

The flames, expanding and releasing outwards, are unstable, scorching hot, and ready to explode at any moment; from the day they were lit, they have been the anchor of explosive power.

He took just a tiny bit, enough to give the Magic Power a restless quality.

The image of Betelgeuse seeped outward along the Magic Power circulation, intertwined with his Magic Power, and then overflowed from the body's surface, forming a scorching aura around the body.

The Magic Power took on the explosive feel of Betelgeuse, its edges became rough, and it began to surge outward, possessing sharpness, temperature, and aggression.

If a highly perceptive wizard were standing next to him right now, what he would touch would be a raging fire, its surface churning, heat waves radiating outwards, its Magic Power restless and threatening to explode at any moment.

This doesn't match Regulus Black's cold and restrained image at all.

It is harder to manufacture inaccuracy with precision than to manufacture true precision.

His Magic Power instincts always tend to be withdrawn, the more steadily he suppresses them, the better.

Now you need to suppress this instinct, actively let the Magic Power leak out, and at the same time maintain the shape and direction of the leak.

Left-handed people can force themselves to write with their right hand, but it requires sustained concentration.

Fortunately, after the imagery of Betelgeuse was infused with Magic Power, the leakage became a new state of equilibrium.

His mental strength had been repeatedly honed through the past two years of Star Orbit Meditation. Maintaining an additional layer of imagery output consumed more energy than it recovered, so this burden was negligible.

After a few tries, it stabilized.

The person in the water mirror stood under the sphere of light, with long silver hair draped over their shoulders, amber vertical pupils gleaming with golden light, and a layer of oppressive heat emanating from their strong features.

Magic Power emanated from his body, causing the air around him to distort slightly and light to bend as it passed through.

The combat style also needs to be changed accordingly.

Logically speaking, he went to chat with Dumbledore; there was no fighting involved.

But Dumbledore's movements wouldn't stop at safe outposts; the things the old man was busy with outside meant frequent travel.

Some areas are too close to Voldemort's core territory, disputed areas, gray areas where both sides are infiltrating, and Death Eaters are also searching for them.

Following him means sharing the route, and also sharing any unexpected events that may occur along the way.

Of course, the old man was safe in his own right.

Even if Voldemort himself were to appear, Dumbledore's power would be sufficient to protect him.

In any other situation, whether it's being surrounded by Death Eaters or encountering danger during an investigation, the old man could probably solve it with just one finger.

But he didn't want to be someone who needed to be taken care of, someone who was an equal, not a burden to others.

Dumbledore probably wouldn't think that way; the old man probably felt that he was still a child who needed protection, and that taking care of him only required a little attention.

That's the old man's problem; he doesn't think that way, nor does he accept it.

He went to see Dumbledore to discuss the issues; he went there with his own thoughts and strength.

He wasn't a little wizard who needed to be protected.

In fact, he wasn't that fragile.

Most of the wizards in Dumbledore's camp might not be as good as him in a real fight.

The Order of the Phoenix certainly has elites, but not that many.

Most of them only know a few standard combat spells. They rely on numbers and courage to fight Death Eaters. In a one-on-one fight, not many of them can hold their own against Bellatrix.

He doesn't need anyone to protect him; he can take care of himself and solve problems in any emergency. He doesn't need Dumbledore's help, and no one needs to remember someone who shouldn't exist.

Moreover, the new identity isn't just for being an accessory to the old man.

The appearance has been changed, the Magic Power texture has been adjusted, it's like creating a completely new person from head to toe. It would be a waste to use this disguise only for standing and chatting.

There are places Regulus Black could never reach.

Close to Dumbledore's position, close to the edge of the clash between the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix, close to certain people who shouldn't be near Dumbledore.

But with a different face and a different playing style, they can get in and have a go.

Let's see how far Voldemort's influence has extended, what kind of wizards are operating in the shadows, and whether the anchor points planted in the Werewolf camp have changed.

It's more interesting to see for yourself than to wait for an unexpected event to happen to you.

He was never used to passively accepting things. Whether or not an accident would happen was an accident, but going out to find it himself was another matter. Having the opportunity to see the world was better than just following the old man around.

There's a road ahead, but you don't know where it leads. Just go and see for yourself. It's a rare opportunity, and it would be a waste not to take advantage of it.

Regulus jumped off Baruk's back and landed in the center of the open space.

The orb of light still hung overhead, illuminating the entire open space.

He flexed his wrists and began the test.

The previous strategy involved precise long-range control of the field, standing at a distance and accurately projecting spells.

Each move was calculated precisely for its trajectory and timing, gradually compressing the opponent's space and crushing them without giving them any chance to get close.

That was the calm and composed Regulus; now it's the other way around.

Switch to a close-quarters pressure strategy, shorten the combat distance, get close to fight, use body movement in conjunction with close-range Spellcasting, and end the battle before the opponent can react.

The body I've honed through nearly two years of Star Orbit Meditation is finally coming in handy. My reaction speed is fast enough, my bones are strong enough, and my muscles are powerful enough to support high-speed close-range movement.

The Swift Charm and Sprint Charm in the Chicken-Run Tactics were previously used to create distance, but now they're being used in reverse.

Charge in, get close, and force your opponent to break down at your own pace.

He crouched down in the open space, feet apart, center of gravity low, wand in his right hand, left hand lightly resting on the ground.

He activated both the Swift Charm and Sprint Charm simultaneously, channeling Magic Power into his legs before leaping forward and blasting through the air in front of him.

The transition from stillness to full speed was almost instantaneous; with a single step, his figure stretched into a streak of light, hurtling along the ground, sending mud and fallen leaves flying against the soles of his boots.

The wind pressed against my eardrums, and the shadows of the trees on both sides stretched into blurry lines.

He rushed to a dead tree thirty meters away, stopped abruptly at the last moment of his charge, and swung his wand across the tree trunk with his right hand.

Magic Power surged from the tip of the staff, and the explosive power of Betelgeuse was fully released in that instant. The scorching Magic Power exploded on the tree trunk, not penetrating, but simply shattering it.

The dead tree was broken in the middle. The upper half was tumbled backward in the blast wave, while the lower half was charred black, with Mars from the edges.

After a sudden stop, he immediately changed direction, swerved to the right, glided low over another tree, braced himself with his left hand, and used the momentum to flip over. During the flip, the tip of his cane was aimed at a rock ten meters away.

Another burst of scorching Magic Power was unleashed, creating a crater the size of a washbasin on the rock surface. Debris flew everywhere, and the heat wave bent the surrounding bushes.

Released the instant it gets close; the closer the distance, the more concentrated the explosive effect and the greater the destructive power.

Avoid wide coverage; target the enemy precisely and resolve the issue with a single strike.

He moved swiftly through the forest clearing, shifting left and right with lightning speed, his boots leaving irregular tracks in the mud.

Each approach to the target takes a different route, sometimes fast, sometimes slow.

Sometimes they sprint at full speed to get right in front of you and explode, sometimes they suddenly slow down and change direction midway, circling around to the side before attacking, and sometimes they cast a suppression spell from a distance before rushing in along the direction of movement to finish off the enemies.

The oppressive aura created by the outward release of Magic Power was amplified several times when it got close. The moment it touched the target, scorching Magic Power surged outward from the body, and the air itself trembled.

If you were standing in front of someone, the sheer pressure would be enough to make your opponent lose their balance and retreat, and that one step back would be fatal.

Swift, fierce, oppressive, and completely unrestrained.

The open space was a mess. Broken, dead trees lay on the ground, smoking, rock fragments were scattered everywhere, several clumps of bushes had been uprooted, and boot prints and scorch marks of varying depths were left on the ground.

He stood in the middle of the open space, took a breath, and withdrew his Magic Power.

The violent aura of Betelgeuse receded from its surface, the oppressive aura dissipated, the air stopped distorting, and the surrounding temperature slowly returned to normal.

That's about it; this strategy is effective.

Appearance, Magic Power, fighting style—three layers of disguise are enough.

Unless Voldemort were standing right in front of him, it would be difficult to associate this young wizard with long silver hair, amber vertical pupils, and a fierce fighting style with Regulus Black.

Of course, we cannot be careless.

The Magic world is too vast and its methods too numerous. What he knows is probably nothing in the entire history of the Wizarding World.

Who knows what ancient spells, obscure traditions, or unheard-of detection methods might be hidden somewhere, capable of directly seeing through Human Transfiguration, touching the very essence of Magic Power, and stripping away all pretense.

I wouldn't dare say it's foolproof.

However, this isn't really a big problem.

If it really comes to that, whoever discovers his identity will be dealt with.

If you can't win a head-on fight, try a side attack; if a direct confrontation doesn't work, switch to a softer approach.

He has many methods, and many of them are unreasonable, making him a perfect fit for a non-existent stranger.

The Severing Charm can cause immediate problems at the level of existence; there's no point in talking about seeing through it or not—even if you do see through it, it's too late to say it.

Regulus deactivated his Transfiguration.

The silver-white hair began to fade from the ends, the white sinking to the bottom and the black rising to the top, the color spreading upwards from the ends.

In the amber iris, the golden pigment slowly melts away, the vertical pupil returns to a circle, and gray fills the space once more.

The strong facial contours have softened, the jawline has narrowed, the curve of the cheekbones has softened, and the sharp angles of the nose have diminished.

His height gradually shrank back to its original level, his shoulder line narrowed, and his physique changed from the robust build of a young man back to the slender build of a teenager.

A moment later, the person in the water mirror transformed back into a quiet, black-haired boy with gray eyes and delicate features.

He waved his hand, scattering the water mirror and the ball of light, and the surroundings darkened again. Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the tree canopy, illuminating the mess on the clearing.

Baruk crouched at the edge of the clearing, eight eyes gleaming faintly in the moonlight, watching him.

Regulus walked over and patted its carapace.

It pushed itself up from the ground and rubbed its spider head against his shoulder.

I'm not taking it with me on this long trip.

I've been trying to appease it for days because of this sentence. It went from being unhappy to very unhappy to puffing up in a huff to reluctantly accepting it, agreeing to quite a few conditions along the way.

After we get back, we'll take it for a spin at the Black Lake, replace the Dragon Meat with a larger piece, and then let it stay in the Forbidden Forest a while longer. We'll also make sure to take it with us on our next trip.

Baruk finally raised his chelipeds again, making two clicking sounds.

Then, with all eight legs, it took two steps backward and buried its entire body in the pile of decaying leaves, resting its head on its front legs, its amber eyes still staring at him.

Regulus patted its carapace again, took a half step back, Apparition.

With a snap, it disappeared.

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the silhouette of the Castle stood in the distance in the night, with Mars in the windows.

He gathered his robes and flew toward the Castle.