Loren sent his consciousness into his small world—and discovered it had undergone an earth-shaking change.
The biggest change was that the small world's area had expanded drastically. When Loren first created it, he had planned for future growth: keep feeding it materials saturated with magic. Later, once he realized the small world wasn't hidden and was even monitored by the Ministry of Magic, he gave up on developing it further and handed off authority, letting it grow on its own.
It had been only about a month since his last mental sweep, yet the small world had grown more than tenfold. He could also sense many magical creatures inside now. Besides the two familiar fire dragons and the dozen-plus people led by Peter, there were hundreds of other presences as well.
Dinner time was near, but Loren didn't care. He seized the castle's access permissions, blinked to his bedside, and entered the small world in person.
The moment he arrived, he was stunned. His old alchemy workshop was nowhere to be seen. In its place stood a towering castle, not much smaller than Hogwarts. With a light probe he found the workshop had been integrated into the castle's interior—right at the core.
From the air, Loren looked around. Clusters of small villages ringed the castle, all simple wooden houses—those were where the Farm Tools lived. This shaggy lot carried his own magic and imprint, which gave him pause.
When did these people enter my small world? Why do they carry my magic mark? Did my talent malfunction and make me forget something?
While Loren was thinking, Peter, already alerted by the others, spotted him above the castle and came up to the rooftop with several key managers to await their master's arrival. Loren, still without a clue, figured he'd just ask. He sensed Peter right below, then dropped from the sky to land before him.
"What's been going on in the small world lately? Why are there so many unfamiliar auras—and why do they all carry my magic mark?"
Peter hurried to answer. "These are recent recruits. Master, you told me to bring in werewolves to prepare for building a dark-creature army, so I contacted Number One and Number Two, who are operating outside. The three of them now control the largest dark-arts shop in the Alley. Borgin's holds most of Knockturn Alley's channels and connections to dark creatures, and through their efforts we persuaded five smaller werewolf tribes and one larger vampire clan to join. Everyone who enters the small world undergoes a loyalty test and bears your mark. According to Number One, he has also made contact with the giants and is currently persuading them…"
The more Loren heard, the less he knew what to say. He lifted a hand to stop Peter. This was getting ridiculous. He remembered telling Peter to catch a few werewolves. How had it turned into assembling a dark-creature army? If he let this continue, would they end up storming the Ministry of Magic and unifying the wizarding world? Would he wake up one day, shoved by his own subordinates onto a dark lord's throne? He'd only wanted a few werewolves for experiments—how did it become this?
Looking at Peter's eager, expectant eyes, Loren couldn't bring himself to lecture. He sighed. "If Number One succeeds with the giants, have them relocate in. If he doesn't, drop it. Your main objective now is to bring in more exotic animals and plants so the small world becomes self-sufficient as soon as possible."
Peter accepted the new orders with delight. In his view, his mighty, wise master would never act without purpose. Of course—Master was only a first-year at Hogwarts. With Dumbledore looming large in today's wizarding world, Master must want them to stockpile strength so that when he reached his peak…
Seeing Peter's eyes whirling with schemes, Loren guessed he was spinning something in his head. He didn't know what and didn't want to; he just hoped Peter would carry out the task properly without spawning new problems.
"Oh, and this white powder is for the werewolves to use after they transform. Record their post-transformation status and send me a report."
Loren was about to take off when he remembered. He pulled a packet of white powder from his robe and tossed it to Peter. Peter shivered at the familiar sight, tucked it silently into his coat, and said loudly, "Honored Master, I'll deliver the report to Lady Shiraori as fast as possible."
Satisfied, Loren nodded and lifted into the air. He planned to circle his small world and see its condition with his own eyes.
His first stop was the forests around the farmland. Tall trees gave the place the feel of the Forbidden Forest. He landed and walked a few steps; the gloom and hush were just like the real thing. The lively woodland fell silent as he arrived—he hadn't bothered to hide his aura.
Soon he found Shiraori's little house deep in the woods. He pushed the door open. The furnishings hadn't changed; the only difference was an extra bookshelf stacked with her latest drawings. Shiraori wasn't home, likely still playing in the Forbidden Forest. From Loren's senses, many magical creatures from the forest had moved into the small world—perhaps a fifth of them "persuaded" by Shiraori.
He'd received no owls and heard nothing from Hagrid about any issues, so it seemed Hagrid didn't care about Shiraori's activities. That felt off. With Hagrid's personality, he shouldn't miss changes in the Forbidden Forest. If reality said he hadn't noticed—then something else must be going on.
By the original plot, Professor Quirrell should have won a dragon egg from Hagrid and pried out the trick to dealing with the three-headed dog. Hagrid would be busy playing dragon mum, and not mind the forest. But with Draco grounded at home right now, and with the trunk Loren had given Hagrid, Hagrid probably wouldn't send the baby dragon away this time.
Loren's mind spun through possibilities, but his steps never slowed. Before he knew it, he'd reached the fire dragons' territory. Their lairs had been moved together by Peter's crew. With plenty of food, the two different species of fire dragon didn't fight.
By the time Loren looked up, the pair had already crawled out, and instead of roaring they lay down warily before him, tails low. Loren wiped a hand over his face. He hadn't expected the dragons of the Harry Potter world to be this weak—and this dim. He had planned to use them as sparring partners, but they'd been scared of him from the start and wouldn't make a move. The environment was comfortable, food was plentiful, and with one male and one female they were living the easy life and had lost any fighting spirit. In short order they'd gone soft. Hermione had almost trained them into docile pets; Hagrid would probably weep at the sight.
Circling the land, Loren had to admit the experimental-subject trio had real operational ability. He saw many magical creatures he'd never encountered in the Forbidden Forest—most of them on the Ministry's banned-sale list. In the air he even passed three Thunderbirds, looking like a family of three. He took only a distant look and moved on, sighing to himself that a world's "character picks" only come once.
By now he'd already spotted a number of exotic creatures he recognized from Invincible Britain, which made him feel like he'd traveled a hundred million miles. He comforted himself with a few mutters and headed for the sea.
Skimming the waves, he found few magical sea creatures, but plenty of ordinary fish. The trio had clearly been dumping a lot of seafood into the small world. All in all, development was not bad. If you ignored the obviously modern-style alchemical devices Loren had built, you could almost pass this place off as a medieval, secluded secret realm.
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