The Acromantula caught the scent of the ham and grew restless. Hunger gnawed at it.
Erwin pressed his advantage. "Fancy another bite? Let me show you— this ham's all yours, I swear. It's a rare treat, the finest money can buy. Top-shelf stuff!"
The creature's legs stamped the ground impatiently. It was starving.
Finally, the Acromantula couldn't resist. It crept forward, inching closer to the bait—and to Erwin.
Erwin's eyes gleamed. With a flick of his wrist, the ham vanished.
The Acromantula blinked in confusion, but it was too late. A blast of magic slammed into it, pinning it down.
"Eat, eat—that's all you think about! This stuff costs a fortune. What kind of glutton are you?"
The Acromantula's tiny eyes widened in bewilderment. Everything had seemed fine moments ago, but now this human's face had twisted into fury. Why?
It wasn't one to go quietly, though. Jaws parted, it spat a web of sticky silk straight at Erwin.
Erwin leaped aside, dodging the strands. "Oh, you've got some fight in you, eh? Bring it on!"
He drew his wand. "Sectumsempra!"
Invisible blades slashed through the air, carving into the Acromantula's legs. Hisses echoed as limbs severed and skittered away.
The creature shrieked in agony.
Erwin picked at his ear, pressing his wand against its bloated body. "Quiet! You're giving me a headache. One more peep, and I'll aim for that ugly head of yours."
Terror filled the Acromantula's eyes. This human was the real monster—who was the XXXXX-class magical creature here? Humans were ruthless, more savage than any beast in the forest.
Regret washed over it. Curiosity had drawn it out, lured by that strange aura. But humans were sly old foxes; they'd tricked and trapped something like it.
Erwin pulled two tin buckets from his enchanted pouch and set them before the whimpering creature. "Right, time for a little test. You play along—spit every drop of venom you've got. No slacking, or you're done for."
The Acromantula nearly wept. Why had it ventured out today? Humans were nightmares.
But defiance meant death. Resigned, it began drooling venom into the buckets. Erwin nodded approvingly—Acromantula poison fetched a high price.
Satisfied, he circled behind the subdued beast. Wand tip to its hide, he traced a pattern. Slowly, a Communication Rune bloomed in purple light.
It took ages to set, but success. Erwin examined it closely. Impressive—it worked on magical creatures too. Was this unique to his rune, or could the Dark Mark pull off the same? Not that it mattered now.
Business first. He recalled the telepathic spell from Flitwick's Charms Textbook. It wasn't true sound transmission; more like a magical circuit, linking compatible magics for remote chatter.
Erwin waved his wand with precision. Threads of magic wove into the rune, etching intricate designs.
He paused, then lit his wand—Lumos—and admired the glowing, three-dimensional result. Not bad at all.
Eager, Erwin closed his eyes and poured magic into the link. A connection snapped into place.
A rasping voice echoed in his mind: "It hurts! So much pain—I'm exhausted! You wicked human!"
Erwin's eyes flew open in delight. The Acromantula's voice? It worked!
But this wasn't quite the full vision he'd had. He wasn't just building a chat line; he aimed to revolutionize wizarding communication.
Stroking his chin, Erwin pondered. The spell was viable. To monetize it, he'd need two things: a power source and identifiers.
As a budding entrepreneur, he had ideas. The Communication Rune locked onto his magic, but activating the telepathic link drained a sliver from the creature's reserves. The rune quickly refilled by siphoning more—handy for live subjects. Inanimate objects wouldn't recharge like that, though. And no one else could piggyback; only rune-bearers could fuel their own.
That covered the "phone bill." Now for numbers—unique tags for each rune.
How to distinguish them? Magic signatures, of course. Everyone's was distinct, even for twins, save for the spell's ancient inventors who shared identical flows.
Erwin brightened. Infuse the telepathic patterns with a user's unique magic during etching. Simple, elegant—worth testing.
He turned back to the Acromantula for round two.
But the spider lay still. Dead.
Erwin fumed. "You couldn't hold on? A XXXXX-class beast, and you're this fragile?"
With an irritated flick—Wingardium Leviosa—he hurled the corpse aside.
No time to waste. He scanned the shadows with his wand's light. Luck struck again: another shape stirred.
Erwin fished out fresh ham from his enchanted pouch and tossed it down. "Oi! Who's up for a snack?"