Chapter 26: The Good Child Finds the Killing Curse Too Inefficient

"I just think the Killing Curse is too inefficient, which is why I wanted to learn the Imperius Curse."

Three days had passed since his last talk with Dumbledore, and Cohen had come to Quirrell’s office again over the weekend.

*The Incorrigible Little Dementor*

Regardless, after leaving, Cohen had secretly used his soul to slip back and eavesdrop on Dumbledore’s office. His plan was proceeding perfectly; any school rules he broke now were Quirrell’s fault. Since someone was taking the fall for him, he could afford to be a bit bolder—though, of course, he had to be careful not to actually "off" any students.

"Is it true that the Imperius Curse can only target one person at a time?" Cohen asked, sounding extremely disappointed. In front of him, several rabbits under the effect of the curse were dancing on a pole.

"B-but... that’s just how the Unforgivable Curses are..." Quirrell stammered, beads of cold sweat rolling down his forehead. "Isn't it enough to be able to kill or control someone with a single spell?"

"Is there no magic that lets you string a bunch of wizards together and then finish them all off with one Killing Curse?" Cohen mused. "That would be far more efficient."

If Quirrell hadn't seen Cohen throwing around Unforgivable Curses as if they were mundane household charms, he would have assumed the person speaking was insane. But since it was Cohen, he could only conclude that the boy was a born "Dark Lord."

"This... currently, there isn't one..." Quirrell said stiffly. "Or rather, I have never heard of such a thing..."

Where did a child get so much negative emotion to fuel the Unforgivable Curses? He truly was the child the Dark Lord had singled out at a glance.

After the tutoring session ended, the kind-hearted Cohen took the rabbits back to the Room of Requirement, lest they continue to suffer under the torment of a dark wizard.

"I think you’re more dangerous than a dark wizard," the Earl remarked.

"Kind owls don't get to eat the rabbit legs I roast," Cohen replied, flipping the whole roasted rabbit on its spit and sprinkling some cumin over it.

Life was meant to be spent curled up in the Room of Requirement roasting rabbits. By now, the room had manifested a kitchen to suit Cohen's needs, complete with a brand-new barbecue grill and a secret passage leading to the school kitchens—Cohen had managed to scrounge a pile of seasonings from the house-elves. He was growing fonder of this place by the day; it was practically paradise. He was even considering living in the Room of Requirement for the rest of his life, sneaking in once he graduated to become a parasite of Hogwarts.

The Earl eventually succumbed to the smell of roasted rabbit, admitting he was willing to be an accomplice and promising to lead Cohen to the Acromantula nest.

For the rest of the weekend, Cohen slipped off to the Forbidden Forest. Since he had souls to feed on, he had no intention of attending the evening feast. After all, outside of holiday banquets, the Great Hall was always missing students—the overachievers were everywhere. Cohen had seen Hermione pack her dinner at noon more than once just to save time for reading.

His last plan for the genocide of the Ashwinder population had kept his soul integrity stuck at 15%. This time, Cohen decided to shift his target to another creature in the Forbidden Forest.

Deep in the forest, the dim sunset could not pierce the canopy, and it felt as though night had already fallen. The only light sources were small, glowing creatures fluttering about and the pale blue fluorescent mushrooms clinging to tree trunks and exposed roots.

*Click-clack.*

A lone Acromantula’s pincers let out a threatening sound. It had only come out for a snack, but a strange creature had appeared in the woods. It wore a cloak that looked as though it had been soaked in water until it rotted away. It possessed scabbed, withered palms and a decaying, hollow, indistinct body, floating in the air like a scrap of tattered cloth.

Though it was still several trees away, an instinctive terror compelled the solitary spider to flee immediately. It began to retreat, clicking its pincers in a vain attempt to sound intimidating.

[Soul Strength: 7]

Cohen had to strike immediately in his Dementor form!

The next second, Cohen lunged toward the Acromantula, his wide, rotting robes whipping in the wind. Thankfully, he didn't have to kiss his targets on the mouth to drain their souls like other Dementors; he only needed to be within a meter or two. Otherwise, he would never touch these spiky, arthropod creatures—only the Earl liked chewing on bugs.

Cohen inhaled the soul, and he could clearly see his system panel update.

15.1%!

The soul of a juvenile Acromantula was quite nourishing! Once an animal's soul was extracted, its body would die shortly after. Cohen didn't leave the spider to wander the forest—he gave the already dead creature a little "assistance." This allowed him to safely extract the venom from the spider's fangs. A single pint of Acromantula venom could fetch a hundred Galleons. Cohen felt that Hagrid was like a gold mine; he managed to breed rare species until they were an infestation.

So, Cohen would gladly take the Galleons. After filling a small vial with venom, he watched as the spider's venom sacs shriveled.

"A bit weak; doesn't seem very durable," Cohen remarked with a touch of regret.

One Acromantula was certainly not enough. Cohen intended to float deeper into the forest to see if he could find more. For some reason, he never tasted any emotions from these animals, which meant their souls were as flavorless as wax. Perhaps that was why other Dementors didn't bother with animals?

The Acromantula colony wasn't hard to find. Following the direction the juvenile spider had fled, Cohen soon spotted the sticky webs between the trees and the ground. These spiders were more like tunnel-dwellers; they didn't live on the webs, which were merely traps for prey. Cohen had just watched a panicked stag collide with one.

A second later, an Acromantula hunting the stag darted from the trees, its fangs burying deep into the stag’s belly. After a few tremors, the stag finally died. The moment it expired, more spiders began to crawl out from the surroundings, including several younglings the size of hunting dogs.

[Soul Strength: 7]
[Soul Strength: 8]
[Soul Strength: 6]
...

Due to food constraints, the Acromantula population had struggled to expand, as they couldn't cross the boundaries set by the Centaurs. But today, their savior, Cohen, had arrived! Cohen would help them by clearing out half of the colony, allowing them to breed without restraint—then Cohen would kill, and they would breed.

Cohen was satisfied, and the spiders were satisfied. A win-win!

Acromantula eggs hatched in only six to eight weeks. Cohen felt he could sell the venom for the same price as Ashwinder eggs. The potion-makers would be satisfied, too. A triple win!

*Slurp.*
*Click.*
*Slurp.*
*Click.*

Under the cover of night, Cohen fed on the souls of the Acromantulas one by one from the edge of the colony, while the spiders feasted on the sturdy stag they had just captured. Everyone was satisfied before they died; Cohen felt that if spiders could experience emotion, this place would be a pool of honey.

Before long, sixteen adult spiders and three young ones had been thoroughly drained, and his soul integrity reached 17%. He hadn't hit the next bottleneck yet. Cohen intended to keep hunting, but an old thing stepped in.

*Click-clack, click-clack.*

A denser, more rapid clicking sound emerged from all directions. They surrounded the Dementor-like Cohen, and leading them was an extremely ancient spider with eight milky-white eyes—Aragog.

[Soul Strength: 20]

Besides Aragog, the older spiders around it also had soul strengths of seventeen or eighteen.

Damn it, he was only thirty spiders away from wiping out the whole nest!

"Outsider... leave this place..." Aragog’s voice was irate and gravelly. Cohen’s slaughter of its offspring had displeased it greatly.

"Oh."

Cohen swallowed the soul of an Acromantula nearby—his integrity hit 17.1%. He wouldn't normally be this cruel to sentient creatures, but he had no love for these spiders. Hagrid had protected them, yet during the Battle of Hogwarts, they had turned around and sided with Voldemort. Therefore, they were grass on the wall—no point in reasoning with them. They had to go!

"Kill him—" Aragog hissed, seeing Cohen’s incorrigible behavior.

The few stronger spiders around it lunged at Cohen almost simultaneously. But they clearly hadn't realized one thing: Cohen didn't have to hover only a foot off the ground. In fact, he could fly much higher. As Cohen soared upward, the spiders predictably lunged at empty air.

Webs and venom were sprayed in his direction, but Cohen dodged them with ease. He swooped down, climbed back up, and killed a few more spiders on the way—perhaps even an elite with 17 soul strength.

His soul integrity reached 19%. He could actually afford to stop now.

Cohen hovered in the treetops, counting the spiders below. There were about twenty left. They wouldn't be wiped out by the rival Centaurs due to a population collapse, and it shouldn't take long for them to replace the dozens Cohen had killed today.

[Ding! Goodwill +33]

It really was a good deed!

"Thanks for the hospitality! Keep breeding, I'll come back next time!"

"[Censored Acromantula profanity]!"

Cohen left Aragog and its children with a satisfied remark, though all that answered him were Aragog's angry curses.