Why don't you look for a Centaur?

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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 won't do any good.

This is more convenient and better suited to the habits of the Acromantula.

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.

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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 Power resistance."

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

His reflection was mirrored in each eye, small, lined up like eight mirrors.

The reflections moved as its head turned, illuminating its same posture from different angles.

Regulus nodded slightly. "That's right."

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

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

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

It said, "But I have a question."

Regulus gestured, "Please speak."

Aragog's tone was full of doubt. "Why don't you look for the Centaur?"

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

Centaur?

He never even considered the Centaur; from the moment he conceived of this experiment, the image that popped into his mind was the Acromantula, Aragog.

Deep in the Forbidden Forest lives a giant spider—it can talk, it's intelligent, it's perfect.

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

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

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

More intelligent, better communicators, more Magic Power, and with clearer feedback.

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

But he never thought of it.

Regulus was silent for a moment, then said, "... 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 him and felt that each of those eight eyes held something different.

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

That's roughly it.

Regulus remained silent.

Let's skip this topic.

"Experiment," Aragog's voice deepened, his chelicerae unconsciously opening and closing slightly, "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 needs to be intelligent enough to communicate clearly, and it needs to be able to understand and express feelings."

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

Theoretically not.

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 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 revealed to outsiders casually.

Even spiders, which are almost completely isolated from wizarding society, won't work.

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 Magic 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 headmaster 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 moment, its chelicerae opening and closing unconsciously a few times, making a soft clicking sound.

Among the surrounding swarm of spiders, a particularly robust giant spider with a dark, almost shiny shell crawled forward.

It is larger than a normal adult, and its eight legs give it a heavy and powerful movement. 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 Baruk," Aragog said in a deep voice, "The most intelligent of my offspring, and also the most powerful in Magic Power. It's suited to work with you."

Baruk raised one of his forelegs and lightly tapped the ground with his joint, making a crisp click, as if in acknowledgment.

Its eight eyes were focused on Regulus, their gaze devoid of hostility; Regulus even detected a hint of curiosity in them.

It's clearly another Wise Spider.

He nodded to Baruk, then looked at Aragog politely. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Aragog said in a low voice, "If Baruk suffers any harm it doesn't want to endure, the experiment must stop immediately."

Moreover, you owe me an explanation for what you did.

"That makes sense." Regulus had no objection.

He turned to Baruk, wand raised. "Ready? Just a beam of light, look at it."

Baruk gave a click in affirmation, slightly adjusting his body to face Regulus directly, all eight eyes focused on the tip of his staff.

Regulus's Magic Power began to flow.

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

Then the light began to change.

The color changed 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 constantly 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 translated it into a modulation pattern of light waves.

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

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

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

Approximately three seconds passed.

Baruk'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 sharp crack.

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

Completely different from the steady rhythm before, the 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 spiders don't have necks, the message that everyone present is trash can be clearly felt from their 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 radiating criticism, the right eye full of contempt, together convey the message: You think you're worthy to stand with me?

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

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

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

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

Several less intelligent spiders felt offended, raised their forelimbs, opened their chelicerae, and moved toward Baruk.

Their chelipeds opened and closed rapidly, making a continuous clicking sound.

Aragog suddenly let out a short, sharp thud.

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.

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

The raised leg fell back to the ground, the claws slightly unsteady as they touched the ground, the chelicerae slowly closed, emitting a final crack.

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?"