Regulus Has an Idea
Regulus walked forward.
The Castle crouched in the night, its five-story stone walls outlined in a cold, hard silhouette by the moonlight.
He walked slowly, lost in thought as he went.
Any sane wizard who seizes a Castle as a base will first and foremost plant traps inside.
Triggered, area-based, directional—anything is possible. Anti-Apparition Jinx and perception interference are just the outermost shell; the real killer moves are inside.
As Moody said, the Prewett brothers came after Rookwood.
The fact that the people from the Department of Mysteries met with Dolohov in such a place indicates that this place is useful to them.
Moody didn't say how the two brothers got involved, but reconnaissance missions don't require direct confrontation.
They probably followed Rookwood all the way here, saw the people enter the Castle, followed them in, and stepped into the trap.
Traps should be a standard defensive setup, applicable to anyone who comes, targeting all possible uninvited guests.
The Order of the Phoenix, Auror, Ministry of Magic investigators—whoever steps through that door, is immediately greeted with hospitality.
The brothers' problem was that they were too reckless. When they found the contact, they acted impulsively and followed the other party into their territory.
The reconnaissance mission turned into a direct confrontation, a common problem among young people: they lose their sense of proportion when their enthusiasm gets the better of them.
Moody arrived after receiving a call for help. When he arrived, he didn't rush in but squatted outside to observe while calling for Dumbledore.
Asking for help is rational; rushing in is foolish.
Regulus took about ten steps, his boots rustling as they stepped on the dry grass.
He won't step in; recklessness and bravado are not the same thing.
Having confidence in your own abilities and knowingly walking into a trap are two different things.
I don't know what the Prewett brothers were thinking at the time, but their strategy of diving headfirst into the fray and then calling for help when they realized they couldn't handle it is really puzzling. In any case, they wouldn't let themselves get into a passive position.
The opponent occupies advantageous terrain; the layout of the Castle's interior, the location of traps, and the configuration of spells are all unknown. The only certainty is that entering will put you at a disadvantage.
Then don't go in.
After taking a few more steps, I had an idea.
He stopped and turned around.
The wind blew through the cracks in the stone wall of the Shepherd's Road, making a whooshing sound, and long, silvery-white hair was blown behind her shoulders.
Dumbledore was looking at him.
The old man stood by the stone wall, his blue eyes gleaming faintly in the twilight. Half-moon Spectacles perched on his nose, his expression a mixture of doubt and interest.
Regulus grinned, a golden light flickered in his amber pupils, and scorching Magic Power surged from his body, his eyes full of interest.
Dumbledore blinked when he saw the smile.
In "The Raven and Fiddle," the child's tongue burned after dipping Mead in mead. This is the expression on his face.
He had the same expression before he knocked down the thick-robed wizard with a single punch at the Wasteland tavern.
He opened his mouth, about to say something.
Regulus spoke first, a grin still playing on his lips, the wind carrying his words to the two men. "Tell them, the Shield Charm is ready."
Then he tilted his head and thought for a moment, then added, "Let's have a 'Bubble-Head Charm ' too."
Moody's brows furrowed, his scarred face turned toward Dumbledore, his grey-blue eyes filled with distrust.
A young, white-haired wizard of unknown origin made a decision after walking a dozen steps, without even explaining the specific plan, and then gave a nonsensical instruction.
The Shield Charm makes sense, but what's the Bubble-Head Charm for? To protect your breathing?
He'd seen far too many guys who were all talk and no action.
His mouth opened, as if he wanted to say something.
Dumbledore looked at Regulus, remained silent for a while, and the doubt in his eyes had not completely disappeared, but was now mixed with a bit of helplessness.
Then he withdrew his gaze, gently raised his wand, and a Silver Light shone from the tip. A silver Phoenix spread its wings from the light, silently swept across the wilderness, through the night, and disappeared into the stone walls of the Castle.
A few seconds later, two lights appeared behind the corner tower's window: the silver of the Shield Charm and the pale blue of the Bubble-Head Charm.
Moody shut his mouth, stared at the light in the corner tower window for a moment, then turned to Dumbledore, his voice rough and clearly displeased. "Albus, who is this guy?"
Dumbledore looked away, glanced at Moody, and smiled.
He said everything he needed to say: don't kill, don't upgrade the stats, Regulus listened.
But his intuition told him that the kid was planning something big; he could sense it.
"Geralt," Dumbledore's tone lightened, his smile widening, "The adventurer."
Moody stared at him, his grey-blue eyes appearing particularly sharp on his scarred face, and the corners of his mouth turned down.
The fact that a seemingly capable young wizard was personally taken under Albus's wing, with an attitude so relaxed it was almost casual, speaks volumes.
Okay, since this person is usable, let's keep an eye on him for now.
But adventurers?
What a damn profession.
He looked away, placed his hand on the wand handle at his waist, and stood still.
Regulus stopped about 150 meters from the Castle, beside the stone wall of the Shepherd's Road, with withered grass and gravel under his feet.
The distance is about right.
The wand was raised, tip pointing upwards, and Silver Light light shone forth— the Shield Charm.
An extremely thin layer of Silver Light spreads out directly in mid-air, without enveloping the body.
The silver barrier extends outward from the tip of the staff, curves into an arc, and converges, solidifying into a complete sphere half a meter above the tip.
It is about 1.5 meters in diameter, about the same width as his outstretched arms.
The sphere's walls are so thin they are almost transparent, allowing a direct view of the Castle's outline and the dark silhouette of distant hills.
A very faint silver sheen flows across its surface, giving it a metallic texture. It disappears when you shake it, and reappears when you shake it again.
He maintained the output of the Shield Charm, and Magic Power continued to flow from the wand into the sphere, keeping the nearly transparent shell in shape and strength.
Next comes the air extraction.
With a flick of the tip of the stick upwards, a tiny hole, no bigger than a pinhead, silently opened at the top of the sphere.
He silently chanted the incantation, "Ventus," the Airflow Charm.
A wisp of Magic Power shot out from the tip of the staff, slid up the outer side of the sphere, and drilled into the tiny hole, forming a continuously rotating miniature vortex at the opening.
The vortex rotates inward, drawing air in from the outside.
For the first few seconds, you could hardly feel any change, then the wind picked up.
The surrounding air began to move, and the nearby withered grass all fell in the same direction, facing the sphere.
Dust and grass clippings rose from the ground, flying along the airflow channels towards the sphere, only to be bounced off near the sphere's walls, forming a slowly rotating gray dust band around the sphere.
Her long, silvery-white hair was pulled towards the sphere, the ends of her hair fluttering forward. The hem of her short vest also moved, the fabric clinging to her waist and being pulled forward.
Regulus stood motionless in the wind, his wand firmly held in his hand. The Shield Charm continued to be cast to maintain the strength of the sphere's wall, while the Airflow Charm was activated in sync to draw in air.
The two Magic each followed their own paths, without interfering with each other. Both originated from the tip of the staff, one following the structure of the sphere's wall, and the other through the opening at the top.
The Magic Manipulation that operates in parallel on two lines requires a high degree of precision.
The Shield Charm requires a uniform, constant, and unwavering output of Magic Power to maintain the sphere's wall. If the Magic Power density at any point deviates, the sphere's wall will thin or even crack at that location.
The Airflow Charm needs to continuously and steadily rotate the orifice vortex. If the rotation speed is too fast, the air intake will exceed the capacity of the sphere wall, and if the rotation speed is too slow, the air extraction efficiency will be low.
The Magic Channel of the two spells are squeezed out of the same wand and cannot flow between each other.
For an ordinary wizard, this is already the limit of multitasking.
For Regulus, it was a normal performance.
After a dozen seconds, the air density inside the sphere visibly increased.
The originally transparent sphere began to emit a very faint bluish-white light, which swirled slowly inside the sphere's inner wall, creating a misty atmosphere.
Air under ultra-high pressure has such a high molecular density that it begins to scatter light.
Regulus stared at the light, his Magic Perception simultaneously spreading towards it.
The air molecules inside the sphere are accelerating and colliding with each other, causing the density to continuously increase.
With each increase in air pressure, the frequency of molecular collisions doubles. The air pressure inside the sphere is currently several tens of times that outside, and it is still rising.
Twenty seconds, thirty seconds.
The negative pressure around us became more and more obvious, the wind blew from further away, the pebbles on the grass began to roll, and the dust storm rose half a meter up from the ground.
A dozen meters away, along the stone wall of the Shepherd's Road, withered grass and leaves were uprooted and rolled towards the sphere.
The whistling sound grew louder and louder, a deep hum, as air blowing from afar was compressed into a pinhole-sized opening, producing a sharp and piercing sound.
Forty seconds, fifty seconds.
The bluish-white mist inside the sphere grew brighter and brighter, transitioning from bluish-white to pure white, churning and boiling inside the sphere's walls, its light illuminating the entire sphere.
He continuously channeled his Magic Power.
The Airflow Charm pumped in streams of outside air through a pinhole-sized opening, while the Shield Charm restrained the sphere from expanding, creating a two-way conflict.
The more air is pumped in, the greater the reaction force on the sphere's walls.
The Shield Charm was feeding back pressure; with each additional bit of air added, the load on the sphere's walls increased.
The current air pressure inside the globe is about two hundred times that of normal atmospheric pressure, and it is still steadily increasing.
The 1.77 cubic meter volume was filled with more than 350 cubic meters of air. If Shield Charm were to release his grip now, the gas released instantly would be enough to overturn a wooden house.
But that's not enough power; it's several orders of magnitude less than overturning a wooden house or collapsing a stone fortress.
After sixty seconds, the ball wall began to tremble.
An extremely faint buzzing sound emanated from the direction of the sphere, at a very high frequency, and the silver metallic luster flickered erratically with each vibration.
The conventional constraints of the Shield Charm have reached their limit.
If you stuff more air inside, the sphere will shatter under pressure, and the high-pressure gas inside will be ejected in all directions.
The power wasn't concentrated enough to penetrate the stone fortress walls; it would only explode in front of him, covering his face in dust.
Regulus's expression remained unchanged, the golden light in his amber vertical pupils dazzlingly bright.
That's the limit, just right.
He narrowed the opening of the Airflow Charm slightly, slowing down the rate of airflow and maintaining it at a critical point where the sphere's walls wouldn't collapse.
On the first floor of the Castle, at the west-facing window, a masked Death Eaters frowned and glanced out.
The Magic Fluctuation outside are a bit strange; they are highly directional and concentrated at one point, but it's unclear what they're doing.
It's too far, only 150 meters. All I can see is a white-haired wizard standing by the Shepherd's Road, holding a wand and doing something to the air.
There seemed to be something nearby, transparent and round, faintly shimmering.
The wind blew in his direction, and all the withered grass around him bent in one direction.
Is it windy? Are you playing in the wind there?
He muttered something under his breath, shrank back from the windowsill, and leaned back against the stone wall at the top of the stairs.