"Wait, Acromantulas, cedar wood!"
Newt turned sharply toward the small bottle on the table's edge—it was indeed made of cedar. Unscrewing the cap, Newt controlled a single drop of liquid to float free.
"As expected, Acromantula venom, and this quality..."
Newt thought of the giant spider venom in his own storage—very few specimens had quality matching what Leo had sent.
"An Acromantula's age must be quite advanced for the venom's toxicity to reach this potency."
Honestly, Acromantulas of that age should be extraordinarily rare, leaving Newt puzzled once again. Where exactly had Leo found so many Acromantulas, including such an ancient specimen? It had to be a sizable colony...
Newt looked at that pile of materials again. After the Acromantula revelation, he now approached the remaining records with heightened curiosity.
Several pages floated into Newt's hands: Centaurs...
Newt's eyes widened. Centaurs attitude toward humans was notoriously cold—most could even be described as disdainful, always maintaining careful distance from wizardkind.
"How does that child even have centaur records?"
Looking at the remaining half of the paper pile, Newt desperately wanted to know how much comprised centaur materials.
Just as Newt prepared to summon them, a caring voice interrupted. "Newt, I just heard you coughing. Did you catch a cold? The weather here is too damp and chilly. I told you to come back to America with me to recuperate, but you wouldn't listen."
Tina looked at her husband absorbed in papers and said gently, "Eat breakfast first."
"Tina, you eat first. I'll look a bit more, then eat later."
One minute later, Newt sat obediently at the dining table, though still clutching a stack of materials.
Tina noticed the miniature Aurelius. After the initial surprise, she quickly adapted to the creature's remarkable abilities. "Aurelius, what kind of food do you prefer?"
Hearing this, Newt also looked up curiously—a perfect opportunity to understand this magical creature's dietary habits.
"Thank you, Lady Tina. Some vegetables and fruits are fine."
Tina nodded, waving her wand as a plate of fresh produce flew from the kitchen. Newt mentally noted—so Aurelius was herbivorous.
However, a surprising scene unfolded. Aurelius gently sniffed those fruits and vegetables, and small wisps of pale white essence emerged from their surfaces, flowing into the little Qilin's mouth and nose.
This peculiar feeding method was genuinely Newt's first time witnessing such behavior. Tina beside him also marveled—she'd never seen anything remotely similar.
After observing Aurelius's feeding ritual, Newt continued reading the materials.
The more he read, the more puzzled his expression became.
"Centaur newborns need to bathe continuously in wind grass essence for seven days?"
Newt couldn't fathom why Leo could record such intimate details—as if he'd lived alongside centaurs for years.
Hurriedly finishing breakfast, Newt returned to his desk. After finally completing the centaur section, he found it extremely difficult to provide corrections this time.
Like the previous Acromantulas, this information was extraordinarily abundant and detailed. Some specifics even Newt himself wasn't entirely certain about.
Newt carried the mystery of why Leo could approach centaurs whilst flipping through new materials.
"Unicorns?"
This baffled Newt even more. Wasn't Leo a male student? Wasn't it unicorn nature to be deeply exclusive toward males? So how did he get close?
Could he have asked female classmates to help observe? Surely he didn't use Polyjuice Potion to become a girl...
Newt shook his head and continued reading. Not much remained—Acromantulas and centaurs occupied the bulk.
"Changes after unicorn pregnancy..."
Reading this section's records, Newt was profoundly shocked yet couldn't help marveling at Leo's extraordinary luck.
He'd previously also encountered pregnant unicorns and been fortunate enough to secretly observe unicorn births. But recording unicorn pregnancy characteristics in such meticulous detail—he'd never managed that.
He should be exceptionally suited for magical creature-related professions. Just don't know if Leo has this intention...
Newt pulled out fresh parchment and a quill, rapidly writing a reply—both answering Leo's questions and offering encouragement and recognition, whilst casually inquiring about his house.
Looking at those extensive Acromantula materials plus that precious venom sample, Newt shook his head admiringly.
"Hogwarts students really are more exceptional with each generation."
Newt opened the trapdoor and descended. Within minutes he emerged carrying a small, completely purple container.
This was a vessel made of purple salt crystal that could most safely preserve Erumpent explosive fluid.
Stuffing the envelope and small container into the satchel, he handed it to Aurelius.
Just as Aurelius prepared to depart, Newt finally asked the question he should have posed long ago.
"By the way, Aurelius, what exactly—what species of magical creature are you?"
Aurelius's ethereal, transcendent voice echoed in Newt's mind: "Mr. Newt, I am a Qilin."
Inside the small house within the Undetectable Extension space, Leo enjoyed the peaceful solitude.
Flipping through "Identification of Dark Magic": Soul control-type Dark Magic, besides the most notorious Imperius Curse...
Leo had already absorbed many Dark Magic characteristics and identification methods. Basically every Dark Magic introduction mentioned one critical warning:
Using Dark Magic will ultimately cause irreversible distortion and mutation to soul and flesh—this is an abyss from which there's no return once entered!
A question continuously churned in Leo's mind: Different people all using Dark Magic—are the effects they receive also different?
The best comparison was Voldemort and Grindelwald.
Voldemort's twisted madness, besides extensive Dark Magic research and use, could also stem from creating Horcruxes—the devastating aftereffects of splitting his soul repeatedly.
In comparison, Grindelwald was considerably more stable. Just speaking of physical form, there was no obvious mutation—at least his appearance remained recognizably human.
As for the soul—hard to say, but at least he wasn't as deranged and erratic as Tom. Or rather, coldly calculating, still able to weave and advance intricate plans rather than purely relying on violence and terror to overwhelm enemies.
Grindelwald certainly wielded plenty of Dark Magic—wasn't that blue Fiendfyre capable of consuming cities one prime example?
"System, using Dark Magic frequently affects soul and body. So my SS+ Dark Magic talent can't avoid or reduce this effect?"
[Unless the host's Dark Magic reaches true SSS rank, unrestricted by mortal limitations; otherwise, long-term frequent use or attempting extremely evil Dark Magic will ultimately produce effects.]
As expected, limitations still existed. But viewed this way, the higher the Dark Magic talent, the greater the "resistance" to Dark Magic's corrupting influence.
The detrimental effects from using Dark Magic would be fewer and lighter.
Voldemort's talent was definitely exceptional, but he ended up looking monstrous because he attempted too extreme Dark Magic—those profane resurrection methods and the insane operation of splitting his soul to forge Horcruxes.
If Eastern wizards heard someone's immortality method involved refining themselves into multiple artifact spirits, they'd probably laugh themselves sick.
"System, with my Dark Magic talent, how frequently would I need to use it to produce irreversible effects?"
[Casting 100 Killing Curses daily, sustained for one month, will produce irreversible effects.]
Leo fell silent.
A hundred Avada Kedavras daily for an entire month? How absurd.
The world should build another prison specifically for containing Leo Grafton—one that would be as infamous as Azkaban and Nurmengard.