Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Three days before the holiday, in the early morning.

The clouds were thick, preventing the moonlight from penetrating. The Forbidden Forest was as black as ink, with the tree canopies forming a continuous expanse.

Regulus landed with the Flight Spell, his feet touching the open space next to Heigl's hut. The big dog, Frosty, was still asleep.

He took a few steps toward the Forbidden Forest and then Apparated.

This time, I didn't fully utilize my magical perception.

He usually lets his senses spread naturally, like having an extra layer of vision. He doesn't need to think about it; he can naturally detect any movement around him.

When you use that state for a long time, even the boundaries between what you see and what you perceive become blurred; they mix together and become the same thing.

But at this moment, he withdrew his senses, maintaining them only within about ten meters of his body.

The image from last time was still etched in his mind; he didn't want to receive any new ones.

He can't completely retreat either; the forbidden forest isn't safe at night. Ten meters is enough; if something gets close, he'll have time to react.

The foothold was on the rock at the edge of the depression.

The moment you step on it, the spider web vibrates, and the vibration travels along the silk into the nest faster than sound.

Regulus knew that Baruch could sense it.

Spiders perceive the outside world differently than humans; light and smell are secondary, while the vibration of spider silk is the primary source of information.

They can tell what's caught in which net, from what direction, how heavy it is, whether it's prey or another of their own kind, just by stepping on it.

Baruch is an intelligent spider; it's not difficult for him to determine who is coming by the vibration of the spider silk.

Before long, the shadow at the entrance to the nest moved.

Baruch climbed out from inside.

Its eight legs swayed back and forth, moving quickly, its chelicerae opening and closing with a clicking sound twice as fast as usual.

Eight eyes glowed in the night, staring in the direction of Regulus.

It had a string of things trailing behind it.

The cocoons, made of spider silk, come in various sizes, one after another, and are pulled forward by the spider using its hind legs.

At the front were several goblins; the little creatures were still moving, their bodies arching within the spider silk.

Behind them was a gray rabbit, wrapped up so that only its ears were showing, and its ears were twitching.

Behind it was a bird, I don't know what kind it was, the color of its feathers was hard to see, its beak was tangled and it couldn't make a sound.

The last one is the biggest.

Centaur.

The horse's lower body was completely wrapped in spider silk from its belly to its hooves, with only the tip of its tail showing. It tried to shake it a few times, but couldn't.

Its upper body was exposed, but its hands were tied behind its back, and its mouth was wrapped with spider silk several times, so it couldn't speak.

The centaur was still struggling, its upper body twisting and turning. Although its legs were wrapped up, it was still kicking on the ground, leaving marks.

He looked quite unhappy, his brows were furrowed, his eyes were staring straight ahead, he was breathing heavily, and his nostrils were flaring.

Regulus glanced at it but ignored it.

Baruch dragged the long string of things up to him and stopped.

Its chelicerae opened and closed twice, making a series of rapid clicking sounds. Then its eight legs curled up slightly, and its body lowered down so that the height of its carapace was just right next to Regulus's hand.

Regulus reached out and patted it; the carapace was hard, cool, and damp with the night's moisture.

Baruch's carapace trembled slightly, like a cat's reaction after being scratched on the chin, but it quickly subsided.

It turned around and pointed with its front legs to the cocoons behind it.

First came a series of clicking sounds as its chelicerae opened and closed, its forelegs gesturing in the air a few times, followed by a string of meaningless syllables.

Then it finally managed to utter a few words, haltingly: "I...catch..."

Its chelicerae opened and closed twice more: "Waiting for you... to come..."

Regulus looked at it, then glanced at the pile of cocoons behind it.

Goblins, rabbits, birds, and centaurs were tightly entangled, but they were all still alive.

I caught this spider myself and kept it, waiting for him to come.

It used itself as a test subject.

Regulus found it interesting.

The eight-eyed giant spider is a social creature; their logic is that the group is greater than the individual, with Aragog at the top and all the offspring below.

There is no complicated hierarchy; whoever is stronger occupies more resources, prey, space, and mating opportunities.

The law of the jungle prevails; it's simple, direct, and uncompromising.

But Baruch's behavior reveals a sense of individuality; it knows it is different from other spiders and is fighting for itself.

For an eight-eyed giant spider, such consciousness is itself abnormal.

Perhaps it was because it was Aragog's most intelligent offspring, or perhaps it was because of something left in its spider brain after that light magic experiment.

Or perhaps it's for some other reason.

Regulus didn't care about the reasons; he liked seeing this change.

Baruch's increased strength was certainly useful to him, but the very fact that an individual was being separated from the tribal system was what he found more interesting.

If Baruch were to fully awaken, what would he do within his community?

To replace Aragog and become the new leader?

Or should we leave this place, find another location, and build a spider colony under its rule?

It's all possible.

Regulus snapped out of his thoughts, patted its carapace again, and praised, "Well prepared."

It's all possible.

Regulus snapped out of his thoughts, patted its carapace again, and praised, "Well prepared."

Baruch's chelicerae opened and closed with a short click.

Then it started circling Regulus, its eight legs moving alternately at a fast pace, and you could tell it was happy.

Regulus watched it circle around once, then said, "You can take a look at the experiment process first; it might be a little dangerous."

Baruch stopped, all eight eyes fixed on him, his chelicerae spread wider, and his forelegs tapped the ground twice.

excited.

Regulus crouched down, extended his finger, and pointed at the goblin at the front.

The Disintegration Spell has adjustable levels; the lowest level will make the target feel nauseous and uncomfortable, causing a slight vibration in the magical structure but preventing it from disintegrating.

Adjusting it a little higher brings you to the middle setting he designed, which theoretically allows the magical structure of magical creatures to loosen locally without causing death.

He switched to the middle setting.

A gray-green light flashed from his fingertips and struck the goblin.

There was almost no process.

The goblins crumbled from the outside in, faster than the blink of an eye.

The skin decomposed first, then the internal tissues, muscles, bones, and organs, until finally nothing was left but a small clump of ash on the spider silk, which was scattered by the night wind.

Baruch stepped back, his eight eyes widened simultaneously, and his chelicerae opened to their maximum extent, emitting a sharp, rapid click.

fear.

The goblin was gone without a trace; it didn't even struggle or make a sound.

Baruch was still squeaking, his voice even sharper than before, his eight legs thrashing back and forth, as if he wanted to run but didn't know where to go.

Regulus lowered his finger, looked at the clump of ash, and ignored Baruch's reaction.

This is already the lowest theoretical level; any lower and the magic structure simply won't open.

The goblin couldn't withstand it, probably because its magical level was too low and its structure too fragile.

The intermediate level of the Disintegration Curse was no different from the lethal level for it; its magical structure simply couldn't withstand that force and collapsed instantly.

In fact, he wasn't sure if Baruch could handle it.

The theory is feasible, but a theory is just a theory.

He hadn't actually tested this level with any creatures before, but now that he had, it didn't work, at least not with goblins.

Perhaps the defining characteristic of the Disintegration Curse is that it has no intermediate state; it either causes nausea and discomfort or leads to immediate death.

If you can dodge it, then dodge it; if you can defend against it, then defend against it. But if you get hit, there are only two possible outcomes.

But that's not necessarily true.

If the target itself is strong enough and its magical structure is stable enough, it may be able to withstand the intermediate level.

But targets at that level are not something that can be obtained in the short term. There are definitely some in the Forbidden Forest, but he doesn't want to go through the trouble of hunting them down.

He glanced at the pile of experimental subjects that Baruch had brought.

Rabbits and birds are nothing special; they're even worse than goblins.

As for the centaurs...

Regulus glanced at the centaur.

The centaur was wrapped in spider silk, its upper body twisted around, glaring at him with anger in its eyes, and something else entirely.

Hate?

almost.

His mouth was gagged, so he couldn't speak, but his eyes made it clear: none of you wizards are good.

Regulus looked away, not taking it seriously. He was already in such a terrible state, how could he still have the mind to glare at him?

Being killed by the Disintegration Curse is considered a quick death; if you can't even be a test subject, then you'll just be eaten by spiders.

Baruch was still in a panic. The speed at which his chelicerae opened and closed slowed down, but his eight legs were still trembling slightly. He retreated, then stopped, wanting to get closer to the clump of ash but not daring to.

Regulus waited for a while.

Baruch quieted down, staring at the clump of gray, its chelipeds no longer opening and closing, its eight legs firmly planted on the ground, its body motionless.

The spider's stillness is different from a human's stillness. There are no changes in breathing, no relaxation of muscles; it just stops suddenly, as if a pause button has been pressed.

After a long while, it finally spoke: "Horse-man...try..."

Regulus shook his head: "No, you're different."

Baruch grew impatient, increasing the speed at which his chelicerae opened and closed, his eight legs thrashing back and forth, and his forelegs tapping the ground a few times, making a rapid tapping sound.

It turned around, its rear end facing the centaur, and sprayed out a stream of spider silk, covering the centaur from its chest to its knees with another layer of silk.

The centaur grunted, his body tilting backward as the spider silk pulled him up, his eyes growing even fiercer.

Baruch ignored it, turned back, and opened and closed his chelicerae: "Other...spider...experiments...after...I..."

After saying that, it crawled up to Regulus, slowly curled up its eight legs, and lowered its body so that its top pair of eyes were level with Regulus's.

It showed no emotion; its chelicerae were closed, its forelegs were tucked to its sides, and its entire posture was still.

Regulus looked at it.

The spider said it would experiment on other spiders first, and only after that would it be successful, then it could be used on this spider.

It doesn't care about its own kind; it's willing to use its own kind as test subjects in exchange for the opportunity to become stronger.

Regulus found this very interesting; the spider's mind was even more capable than he had imagined.

Baruch's logic lacked ethnic morality; it only focused on becoming stronger. In a sense, Baruch was more like a pure individual than many of the people he knew.

That previous experiment with the light source magic really left a deep impression on its spider brain.

Arrogance, contempt, and eagerness—these emotions are false, but they are what fuel real desires.

Baruch tasted power, even if it was just an illusion, and it remembered it, wanting the real thing.

“Alright,” Regulus said to Baruch, “Don’t do it in the Forbidden Forest, come with me.”

Baruch tilted his spider head, his chelicerae opening and closing: "Where?"

"My home."

"...Your...tribe..."

Regulus nodded: "Yes, my people."

Baruch was silent for a moment, then his chelicerae twitched slightly: "Aragok...Father..."

"Go and call it out," Regulus said.

Without hesitation, Baruch stood up on his eight legs, turned around, and crawled back to the nest.

After a while, Aragog emerged, its eight legs moving, its largest pair of eyes gleaming white, staring at Regulus.

It was much larger than Baruch, its carapace gleaming darkly in the night, its chelicerae outstretched, revealing the dark red inner walls.

Baruch crouched low behind Aragog, his eight legs tucked in and his chelicerae closed.

Its forelegs, hidden under its body, twitched gently, once, twice, as if giving a secret signal.

"You want to take my offspring away?" Aragog's voice was deep and trembling.

Regulus caught Baruch's subtle movements out of the corner of his eye, but remained silent.

"I'll borrow it," he nodded, his tone calm. "I'll return it to you in a few days."

He won't reveal his true purpose, so what can he say?

I'll make your offspring powerful, then you can come back. ?

Aragok paused for a few seconds: "Baruch is my smartest child."

Losing one offspring means nothing to it, and losing its smartest offspring means nothing to it either.

The group has hundreds of spiders; losing one will not affect hunting, defense, or anything else.

But it simply didn't want a wizard to take away its offspring.

Regulus looked at it, his tone unchanged: "So it's the most suitable."

Aragog's pincers twitched, the top pair of eyes fixed on Regulus, while the lower pairs of eyes glanced elsewhere.

"Conditions," it said.

Regulus frowned.