Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

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Regulus's original plan was to let Aragog make the first move, and then proceed directly to the experimental phase.

Provoke it, provoke it, make it pounce, and then let it know that pounce is useless.

This is more convenient and better suited to the habits of the giant eight-eyed spider.

But Aragog's wisdom prevailed over his tyrannical nature, and what should have been an immediate conflict turned into a somewhat tense and tentative dialogue.

Since they were willing to talk, Regulus didn't mind spending a little more time.

After all, if the subsequent experiments are successful, he still needs it to personally express its feelings and experiences.

An Aragog who is willing to cooperate and can express himself clearly is always more useful than a prisoner who is suppressed and filled with hatred.

Finally, Aragog spoke again, his voice lower than before, his chelicerae closed, and his center of gravity shifted backward.

"I roughly know why you came to me, because I am intelligent, can communicate, and have good magic resistance."

As it spoke, its eight compound eyes stared intently at Regulus.

His reflection was mirrored in each eye, small and arranged in a row, like eight mirrors.

The reflections moved with the turn of its head, illuminating the same pose from different angles.

Regulus nodded slightly: "That's right."

Aragog's expression turned serious, which gave his ferocious, enormous head a strange contrast.

It paused for a moment, its voice carrying a sense of inquiry, and a strange sincerity.

The idea that a spider should be sincere is absurd, but it certainly is.

It said, "But I have a question."

Regulus raised his hand in a gesture of approval: "Please speak."

Aragok's tone was full of doubt: "Why don't you look for the centaurs?"

Regulus was stumped by the question; he opened his mouth but couldn't utter a word.

Centaur?

He never even considered the centaurs; from the moment he conceived of this experiment, the image that popped into his mind was the eight-eyed giant spider, Aragog.

Deep in the Forbidden Forest, there lives a giant spider—it can talk, it is intelligent, and it is perfect.

As for the centaurs, they were never even on his list of options.

Perhaps subconsciously, they felt that dealing with a group of centaurs who spent their days studying astrology and constantly predicting fate was far more troublesome than negotiating with a group of predators who, though dangerous, had clear objectives.

Now that Aragog asked him this, he realized that centaurs were indeed more suitable than spiders.

More intelligent, better communicators, more powerful magic, and clearer feedback.

Moreover, they were also in the Forbidden Forest, about the same distance from the castle.

But he never thought about it.

Regulus was silent for a moment: "...You're right."

Then, in a sincere tone, he said, "I didn't expect that."

Aragog looked at him, his compound eyes gleaming with a complex light. Regulus glanced at them and felt that each of the eight eyes held something different.

Speechless, shocked, wary, unwilling, confused, hesitant, curious, exhausted.

Probably so.

Regulus did not speak again.

Let's skip this topic.

"Experiment," Aragog's voice deepened, his chelicerae opening and closing unconsciously. "What kind of experiment?"

Before Regulus could answer, it asked again, "It has to be me?"

Regulus thought for a moment.

Whether it's Aragog or not doesn't really matter. The conditions are there: it's intelligent and can communicate. As for which spider it is, it doesn't make much difference.

Since Aragog is reluctant, it's fine to switch to another spider. Anyway, the communication is going well for now, so there's no need to force it.

This will also reassure Aragog and make subsequent cooperation smoother.

“It doesn’t have to be you,” Regulus said, “but it has to be intelligent enough to communicate clearly and to understand and express feelings.”

Aragog's massive body relaxed slightly, as if letting out a sigh of relief, and it asked again, "What magic? Will it cause harm?"

"Theoretically, no."

Seeing that its tone had softened, Regulus nodded in satisfaction. This spider was easy to talk to and reasonable.

As for what kind of magic it is, there's no need to say.

It's not some extraordinary or profound magic, but it represents a completely new way of thinking and possibility. In the future, it might become an important auxiliary or control method, so it certainly can't be told to outsiders casually.

It doesn't even work on spiders, which are almost completely isolated from wizarding society.

Not only can't he say anything, but he also has to take additional measures afterwards to ensure that Aragog doesn't even reveal that he was here tonight.

That's right, the main concern is guarding against that big-mouthed Hagrid.

Regulus could almost imagine what it would be like if Aragog were to casually mention to Hagrid one day that a young wizard in a school robe had come to him one night and conducted a strange magical experiment.

What a confused and worried look Hagrid's big, hairy face would wear, and then this matter would probably reach the ears of some principal in a couple of days.

It wouldn't be a real problem, but he was afraid Dumbledore would overthink it, since he himself had given this magic quite a bit of thought.

Aragog saw that Regulus hadn't specified what kind of magic it was, so he didn't press further.

It remained silent for a while, its chelicerae opening and closing unconsciously a few times, making a soft clicking sound.

Among the surrounding swarm of spiders, a giant spider with an exceptionally robust body and a dark, almost shiny shell crawled forward.

It is larger than a normal adult, and its eight legs give it a heavy and powerful appearance when it moves. Its chelicerae are thick, and its compound eyes appear exceptionally bright in dim light.

It stopped in front of Aragog, facing Regulus, and lowered its front half slightly in a submissive posture.

"This is Baruch," Aragog said in a deep voice, "the most intelligent of my offspring, and also the most powerful in magic. It will work with you."

Baruch raised one of his front legs and tapped the ground lightly with his knuckle, making a crisp click, as if in acknowledgment.

Its eight eyes were focused on Regulus, with no hostility in them; Regulus even saw a hint of curiosity in them.

It's clearly another intelligent spider.

He nodded to Baruch, then looked at Aragog and said politely, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Aragog said in a low voice, "If Baruch suffers any harm that it does not want to endure, the experiment shall be stopped immediately."

Moreover, you owe me an explanation for why you thought it was acceptable to do this.

"That makes sense," Regulus said without objection.

He turned to Baruch, raising his wand: "Ready? Just a beam of light, just look at it."

Baruch made a click to indicate his approval, slightly adjusting his body so that he was facing Regulus directly, with all eight eyes focused on the tip of his staff.

Regulus's magic began to flow.

A faint, silvery-white light appeared at the tip of the staff, like a firefly in the night. The light then stabilized, becoming soft and not dazzling.

Then the light began to change.

The color changes from silvery white to warm yellow, from warm yellow to pale gold, and then back to silvery white.

The rhythm and the interplay of light and shadow are changing, as if something is flowing within them.

The changes were subtle and almost imperceptible without careful observation, but each change corresponded to a precise parameter in Regulus's consciousness.

He focused his mind, mobilizing the prepared emotional sample in his mental compartment—a mixture of arrogance and contempt—and translating it into a modulation pattern of light waves.

The shift in frequency corresponds to the intensity of the emotion, and the rhythm of light and dark corresponds to the tendency of the emotion; all of this is accomplished under his powerful mental and magical control.

Then, he aimed the beam of light, which carried a specific pattern of information, at the very center of Baruch's compound eyes, at the pair that were most sensitive to perception.

Light shone on Baruch's black carapace and gleaming white compound eyes.

About three seconds passed.

Baruch's body suddenly stiffened, all eight legs tensed up at the same time, the hard shells at the joints made a slight grinding sound, and the two foremost legs even lifted slightly off the ground, their claws dangling in mid-air.

Its chelipeds opened unconsciously, then snapped shut with a crisp crack.

Immediately afterwards, a series of short, high-pitched clicking sounds burst from its mouth.

Completely different from the steady rhythm before, those clicking sounds were rapid, sharp, and had a metallic friction texture, full of a certain restlessness and disdain.

It turned its head, no longer staring intently at Regulus's wand, but instead looked around in a slightly exaggerated manner.

Especially when it swept its body language over the other spiders that were watching, including Aragog, it conveyed a clear sense of pride.

Although the spider has no neck, the message that everyone present is trash can be clearly felt from its posture and clicking sounds, even if you don't understand spider language.

It was scanning, scrutinizing, and re-evaluating every spider around it.

The pair of compound eyes in the top row, the left eye is critical and the right eye is full of contempt, together they mean "You are not worthy to stand with me."

Aragog's large compound eyes suddenly widened, staring intently at Baruch, whose behavior had abruptly changed.

Mosag let out an uneasy hiss, its body shrinking back, its eight legs curling up to protect its belly.

The surrounding spiders stirred, their clicking sounds creating a chaotic cacophony—some questioning, some defiant, some bewildered.

They sensed Baruch's unusual state; the provocation was all too obvious.

Several spiders, not being very intelligent, felt offended, raised their forelimbs, opened their chelicerae, and moved toward Baruch.

Their chelipeds open and close very quickly, making a series of snapping sounds.

Aragok suddenly let out a short, sharp click.

The spiders stopped and retreated to their original positions. Some of them retreated so quickly that they bumped into each other and rolled into a ball.

This state lasted for about ten seconds.

Baruch suddenly stopped his high-pitched clicking, his body swaying as if he had just recovered from a brief dizziness.

The raised leg fell back to the ground, the claws were a little unsteady when they touched the ground, the chelicerae slowly closed, and made a final click.

It lowered its head, looked at its own pincers, and then looked up at Regulus.

Eight eyes were filled with confusion, and a trace of lingering arrogance.

But that arrogance is fading rapidly, replaced by a stronger sense of bewilderment.

Regulus extinguished the light at the tip of his staff: "How does it feel?"