The Traveling Wizard of Worlds

"It's done!" August set down his carving knife.

August watched as the dragon's heart turned gray and withered, but he wasn't worried at all. This indicated that the dragon heart's essence had been fully absorbed by the potion, and it was time for the next step.

He poured the golden potion from the dragon heart into a copper pot.

He didn't just sit idly by; he meticulously carved lines onto the platform with his carving knife, following the notes he had taken at Hogwarts.

These lines intertwined with the precision of a dodecahedron, forming an intricate geometric matrix that revealed three perfectly circular cavities August had hollowed out.

He placed the two dragon eggs in the depressions on either side, then carefully took out his own insect egg and placed it in the central position.

Then, August took a deep breath, knowing the most crucial step was about to begin.

He picked up the copper pot containing the potion and slowly tilted its spout. The golden potion, accompanied by an ethereal mist, flowed from the pot onto the insect egg, instantly tinting it gold.

The potion flowing over the insect egg continued to exert its effect. It seemed alive, slowly tracing the marks August had carved, eventually covering the entire magical matrix, and August's vision was filled with golden light.

These potions continued to work, divided into many streams by the marks, closely surrounding the dragon eggs, but this was not good for the dragon eggs.

The potion quickly enveloped the dragon eggs. Afterward, August saw them emit faint red glows, and the potion, like a distribution conduit, slowly concentrated this red energy into the insect egg in the center.

Gradually, the dragon eggs' life force became weaker and weaker, while the insect egg in the middle grew stronger and stronger.

*Crack!*

The dragon eggs shattered, and as they disintegrated, they instantly turned to ash, while the golden potion became as clear as water.

August placed his hand on the insect egg and felt the life force within it, and the result filled him with joy.

The embryo inside seemed to have truly come alive, even reacting to the probing magic he had just released, causing the insect egg to tremble slightly.

The insect egg was undoubtedly far more precious than the two dragon eggs. While dragon eggs were strictly controlled in that world, they weren't impossible to obtain. The insect egg in his hand was the treasure of a formal wizard, and its value was different.

The insect egg still needed to gestate for some time. He put it back into his case, wrapped in a specially designed dragon-hide pouch.

"Newt, I did it!" August went upstairs and happily told Newt, then pulled the insect egg from the dragon-hide pouch.

Newt took it and began to observe it. Reviving an unknown animal was very significant for him as a magical zoologist: "It seems this egg is in very good condition now, and we can look forward to its hatching."

"So, what are your plans?" Newt asked. Although he and August had become friends, he had never asked about August's background and wasn't clear on his origins.

"Well, I'll probably be traveling afterward, maybe visiting various places around the world." August certainly wouldn't say he was returning tomorrow, so he casually fabricated an excuse.

Newt seemed quite fond of this excuse, as he also enjoyed traveling: "It's a pity I don't know when my probation will end; otherwise, we could have traveled together."

"Don't worry, there'll be a chance," August consoled him.

The next day, after bidding farewell to Newt, August went alone to a secluded spot on the outskirts of the city.

He didn't know what kind of phenomenon his return would cause, so it was better to be cautious.

August, with a thought, summoned the grand gate of his spiritual world. After summoning it, he noticed something extra seemed to be on it.

A familiar symbol appeared on the gate, composed of a triangle, a circle, and a vertical line: it was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

"This represents this world?" The gate gave him no answer, but August roughly guessed the symbol's meaning.

Then August pushed the gate open, took one last look at this world, and stepped through the doorway.

It feels great to be back. Although that world also had countries like his homeland, he knew it wasn't his dream place. In comparison, this place where he had lived for several years made him feel more at ease.

But first, he just wanted to see how many days he had been gone.

August stepped outside and pulled the latest newspapers from the mailbox by the door, finding only three copies, which meant August had only been away for three days.

*I stayed there for nearly a month, which means I gained over twenty free days.* He was overjoyed. "This is great!"

Besides newspapers, there were also some letters in the mailbox. August collected them and placed them on the living room coffee table. He first tidied his luggage and then hid the most important insect egg in his desk cabinet.

By the way, the trunk with the [Undetectable Extension Charm] he had bought there had burst open the moment it was brought through the door, scattering its contents everywhere.

Fortunately, it was just clothes and books; he had stored his most precious items in other normal trunks.

The unexpectedly acquired Galleons had been deposited in a bank. The goblins didn't want to let such a major customer slip away, and while they wanted to know the money's origin, August returned the next day, so they couldn't find him.

"[Hat, Accio]!" He pointed his wand, which he had obtained from Tom, at his hat, but it was useless.

"Indeed, spells from that world don't work here." August had expected this, though he was a bit disappointed. He had learned many spells, but unfortunately, they couldn't be used.

After pondering the differences between the two worlds, August picked up the letters.

As expected, they were all sent to him by newspaper editors. He had no friends here, and only his editors knew his identity as an author and his home address.

August remembered the plump editor and was curious to know what made him so anxious.

Opening the letters and reading for a while, August's expression seemed to darken, and the excitement he had felt upon returning from another world vanished.

"These readers have no idea what they're saying!" he fumed, throwing the letters onto the table.

It turned out his editor had informed him that ever since his new work, which he had submitted along with his previous novel, was published, the imagined praise had not appeared; instead, it was met with an overwhelming barrage of negative reviews.

August had been thinking about changing genres for more than a day or two. If it hadn't been for the impossibility of finding a more respectable job and if the manuscript fees hadn't been so high, he would have quit this job a long time ago.

Even in writing, he wanted to become famous with serious works. If he hadn't struggled to make ends meet, he would never have written those explicit novels.

However, his first genre novel, "The Count of the Dragon Sky Mountain," received a furious backlash from his fans immediately after its release. This novel was his adaptation of the famous work "The Count of Monte Cristo" (shown in the images), and he believed such a novel, balancing artistic value with entertainment, would undoubtedly be popular.

But what exactly happened?

It turned out his readers were already accustomed to August's fast-paced, explicit novels—or rather, they simply liked reading explicit plots. August's theoretical knowledge was far superior to that of the local writers.

Readers compared him to authors who might accidentally write explicit content and then recognized the pseudonym Mr. Silas Blackwood.

After finishing one novel, they expected Mr. Silas Blackwood to bring even more novel positions, but who knew this guy actually wanted to go legitimate.

Then his readers were outraged. Those who bought the newspaper felt cheated. Some, furious, unable to find August's address, sent their furious comments to the newspaper office. Some sent a dagger, some a few bullets, and some even a tied rope...

August's editor, scared to death, immediately wrote to him, begging him to write short erotic stories to appease these angry readers during the transition. However, August didn't reply for three consecutive days. In the last letter, the editor thought he had been found by some crazy fan and was locked in a basement.