Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 468 Baruch Who Can Plant Trees

Regulus returned to Hogwarts from the sea cliffs of County Durham and landed deep in the Forbidden Forest.

In early April, the canopy of the forbidden forest had not yet fully closed, and moonlight leaked through the gaps in the newly sprouting leaves, casting silvery beams of light diagonally among the decaying leaves and ferns.

The bioluminescent plants were much more active than during the day; moonspot moss clung to the cracks in the rocks, emitting a cool, white glow, while fireflies clung to the tree roots, emitting a warm, yellow light.

Several luminescent mushrooms hid under the old tree, their caps flashing a pale green glow.

The air was humid, carrying the clean, raw smell of freshly turned soil, mixed with the fragrance of wildflowers wafting from somewhere. In the distance, something rustled a few times in the bushes, then fell silent again.

In the depression of Aragog's lair, Regulus spread out his magical perception and scanned Baruch in the northwest direction.

He raised his right hand and gently stroked his body, a cool, watery sensation washing over him, and the illusion spell concealed his form.

A small clearing in the woods, with a gap in the tree canopy overhead, lets the moonlight shine straight down, making the entire clearing glow.

Baruch squatted in the middle of the open space, his large body, about two meters long, with his eight legs tucked to his sides, and eight amber eyes on his spider head, all staring at a small patch of turned soil in front of him.

Regulus remained silent, walked over to Baruch, and looked down.

The soil was loosened by the chelicerae and neatly piled into several small mounds, each with something stuck in it.

A young seedling of wild grass, a few berry seeds that I don’t know where they came from, and a small piece of the stem of a fluorescent mushroom that I plucked off. The cut was still fresh, and pale green juice was oozing out.

There was a mound of earth next to it that was a little higher than the others. A few dead branches were stuck in the top, and a triangular frame was tied crookedly with vines. Inside the frame, a small seedling that had just sprouted two leaves was protected. It was tender and yellowish.

Baruch is watering the seedling.

It stretched its front legs onto a spider web hanging nearby, on which hung water droplets, probably collected dew.

It dipped its forelegs in the water and dripped the drops one by one onto the roots of the seedling, its movements incredibly slow, a far cry from its usual frantic running.

After finishing the drip, the spider retracted its front legs, tilted its head, and stared at the seedling for a long time, as if judging whether it had been watered enough. Then it dipped its head in the water and dripped another drop.

After watering the one on the far right, it changed direction and started scratching at another empty spot with its two front paws.

First, dig a hole. The two front legs dig into the soil and pull outwards, the two middle legs support the body, and the two back legs push the dug-out soil to one side.

Once the hole was dug, the last two legs reached over from the side, caught a seed with their front paws, and carefully placed it into the hole.

Then, using both front paws, they pushed the soil back together, and after pushing it, they patted it down hard, their large paws slapping the soil surface, making the loose soil compact.

Each of the eight legs was busy with its own task, and they worked together quite smoothly.

There are already several such pits nearby, some with tender shoots, some just breaking through the soil, and some with two leaves.

The soil in one pit was compacted very tightly, and the surface was smooth. Nothing had grown there. The seeds inside were probably struggling to break through this hard shell.

Regulus leaned against a tree trunk and stared for a while, a smile unconsciously curving his lips.

The clever little thing, after not seeing it for more than half a month, has learned to farm on its own.

Baruch spent a month watching centaurs observe the stars, imitating their gait, and trying to rub against unicorns.

It went through forest after forest, and every tree told it that it didn't like spiders, so it planted its own, starting with seedlings, nurturing saplings, and planting small flowers.

Old trees have memories; they recognize spiders as an invasive species. Seedlings, on the other hand, have never seen a spider before.

Regulus looked for a moment, his attention settling on the tender shoots.

They grew at different rates. Some plants grew particularly fast, their leaves unfurling and gleaming healthily under the moonlight, while others had just broken through the soil, their cotyledons still curled up and not yet opened.

Baruch gently tapped the fastest-growing plants with his front paw, then turned his head to look at the slower-growing ones.

The spider tilted its head to one side, then stretched out one of its front legs, scooped up more dew from the web, and watered the slower-growing spider with a few more drops.

It can already distinguish the growth rate.

When the Tree Guardian Curl Magic Module was first connected, it could only passively receive signals.

It listened to everything the tree said, except that it disliked spiders. After hearing this, it came back to him looking aggrieved.

At that time, a seed was just a seed to it; burying it in the soil made no difference.

Now it knows which plants are growing well and which are growing slowly, knows to water the slower-growing ones more, and knows not to tamp the soil too firmly.

This not only connects with plants, it understands growth.

The tree-protecting bower doesn't have this ability. The tree-protecting bower's plant affinity is passive. It lives on the tree, and the tree transmits its feelings to it. It is happy and unhappy along with the tree.

But Baruch is not a Bowtruckle; he is an eight-eyed giant spider, and this creature is not in his bloodline, so he has to learn it from scratch.

When he left, Baruch could only vaguely sense the presence of the grass and trees. To him, the trees were talking giants; he could hear them, but only passively.

Now it's different; it can actively interact with plants.

For a wizard, this is equivalent to advancing from simply being able to chant spells to being able to modify them—a qualitative leap.

Regulus took a few steps forward, squatted down behind Baruch, and reached out to touch the nearest bud.

The moment my fingertip touched the leaf, an extremely faint flow of magic emanated from its veins.

Upon closer inspection, it became clear that the magic wasn't from the plant itself; the seedling was too small, and the magic was so faint as to be almost nonexistent.

This magic belongs to Baruch.

It nurtures these plants with its own magic, infusing the soil with the magic of nature, allowing the seedlings' roots to absorb it and let it flow into the veins of the leaves.

Baruch was giving.

Regulus withdrew his hand.

His previous plan was to enable Baruch to sense plants and trees, to make the entire Forbidden Forest his domain, to make the trees willing to talk to him, and to have tree roots and spider webs intertwined.

It's the first to know when there's a slight rustling in the woods.

That's using the magic of nature as a tool, a sensory network, an intelligence system.

Baruch went astray, or perhaps he went the right way; he wasn't building a network, he was planting trees.

It uses the magic of nature in a more fundamental way, bringing to life things that have never lived before, and making the living grow better.

It understands life further than expected, and perhaps better than expected.

Regulus stood up, dispelled the illusion spell, and stomped his foot on the decaying leaves with a dull thud.

Baruch froze, then the entire spider sprang up from the spot, all eight legs exerting force simultaneously, its two-meter-long body rising from the ground and flipping over in mid-air.

When it landed, it was already facing Regulus, its chelicerae spread wide, making a long series of clicking sounds, interspersed with a few short chirping syllables.

I don't know where it squeezed out, but the spider was able to make that sound.

It pounced at full speed, its eight legs pushing off the ground in alternating motions, kicking up a cloud of decaying leaves and dust behind it. It rushed towards Regulus and braked sharply, but still couldn't stop in time, its large head shoving right into his arms.

Regulus reached out and pressed down, taking half a step back.

Baruch pushed his big head forward, then continued to bury his whole body in his arms.

But it couldn't get in; it was about two meters long, while Regulus was just over 1.7 meters tall, so it started nudging his shoulder with its head.

He arched his neck once, then took a half-step back, then arched again, the dark red bristles rubbing against Regulus's neck until it itched.

"Alright, alright." He reached out and patted its big head, his palm making a thud on its hard shell.

Baruch shook his head, rubbed against him, and then started circling him, running very fast, his eight legs casting blurry shadows.

But every time he gets close to the plants he has planted, he immediately slows down, carefully lifts his leg to step over them, goes around them, and then speeds up again.

It circled around him seven or eight times, then stuck its butt out, its spinnerets facing him, with a small section of silvery-white spider silk already protruding, looking like it wanted to spray something.

After thinking about it, I took it back, probably because I remembered being scolded the last time I did it.

Then it continued to circle for five or six minutes before stopping, finally coming to rest in front of Regulus, its head very close to his.

Regulus looked at the eight amber eyes and smirked, "You've gotten quite something."

Baruch made another series of clicking sounds, its chelicerae opening and closing rapidly, and all the dark red bristles stood up.

The spider raised its head, quite pleased with itself: "Baruch...planting trees...clever."

Regulus reached out and placed his hand on its carapace, his magical senses probing inside.

The tree-protecting grooving module has fully grown in, with the tendrils and visual branching system around the grafting point intertwined.

The bridge built by natural magic in the middle has been replaced by magical structures growing together on both sides. The white dots around the eight eyes are denser than before, and a pure white halo shines steadily from under the carapace.

Moreover, the magic loop of the Tree Guardian Bow module has been expanded.

Previously, it passively received the emotions of plants; the Bowtrus tree was born with this ability. But for Baruch, it was grafted onto the plant, and he had to actively reach out to touch it.

It's like having an extra eye; you have to close your own eyes to know what that other eye sees.

Each time it is used, the pure white light spots around the eight eyes will light up. That is because it is actively activated. Now the light spots are still lit, but they no longer flicker.

This means that it no longer needs to deliberately activate the module or switch to the perspective of the tree protector. The state of the plant can now be directly perceived by it, just as naturally as its visual and tactile perception of the spider web vibration.

From passively receiving information to actively using it, and then internalizing it into a part of one's own perception, Baruch himself accomplished this step.

There's also a magical feedback effect.

Professor Sprout once said that plants remember the magic of the giver and will repay it in their own way.

Baruch infused the soil with the magic of nature, and the seeds in the soil received it.

The seed doesn't know the spider, but it recognizes the magic that helped it break through the soil.

It responded with growth, and Baruch received the feedback, thus knowing which shoots were growing and which were sluggish.

Baruch broke free from his grasp, turned and walked toward the open space. After a few steps, he looked back at him, clicked his chelicerae twice, and gestured for him to follow.

Regulus followed, while Baruch walked ahead, slowing his pace as he led him on a tour of his small territory.

Walking up to a seedling that had sprouted two leaves, the spider cautiously pointed with its front legs, tilting its head to one side: "This..."

"Quickly...good...I like...Baruch."

Then it walked to a newly sprouted plant next to it, lowered its head, and its eight eyes were almost touching the leaves: "This... wait... I don't... like it yet... it's too small."

After walking a few more steps, I stopped in front of the sapling that was about half my height.

Baruch's pincers opened and closed slightly twice, and a hint of pride could be heard in the rough friction sound: "From now on... I like... Baruch."