"HP: Too Late, System!"Chapter 385: Your Holiday... Is Over
Moonlight poured like liquid silver over the rugged mountain path.
Two figures moved in single file, their shadows stretched long and thin—phantoms dissolving into the night.
The abandoned mine loomed ahead, its gaping maw like a silent beast, swallowing every glimmer of light.
Douglas and Lupin advanced with light, wary steps.
But less than five hundred meters from that dead, silent entrance, Lupin suddenly froze. He lifted his head, nostrils flaring. The vigilance in his eyes was instantly replaced by a terror that came from somewhere deep in his blood.
Every muscle went taut, as if struck by lightning—every hair on the back of his neck standing on end.
It wasn't the cold. It was the primal, helpless shudder of prey feeling the gaze of a natural predator.
He strained to listen. Only the rustle of leaves and a distant owl's cry rode the wind.
"Douglas. It's an ambush!"
Lupin's voice was hoarse, each word forced through clenched teeth.
"There's a lot of them. Too many. They've surrounded the entire area!"
Almost before the words had left Lupin's lips, Douglas was already moving.
No hesitation. No need to check. He trusted Lupin's senses completely.
He seized Lupin's arm, his voice low and urgent: "Move!"
He didn't even consider Apparition. If the enemy had set an ambush, there would be anti-Apparition jinxes everywhere.
Instead, he dragged Lupin with him, veering off the path and sprinting toward a steeper ridge to the side.
But their dash was like flipping a hidden switch.
WHISTLE—!
A shrill, piercing whistle shattered the night's silence—a command, sharp and absolute.
In the next instant, dozens of crisscrossing nets of light flared up from every direction in the woods.
Nets woven from pure holy light, golden runes flowing across them. In a heartbeat, every escape route was sealed, the world turned into a gigantic, glowing cage.
Then, with a series of muffled puffs, countless jets of silver powder—blessed with sacred prayers—erupted from the ground, spreading like a deadly mist.
"Ugh—!"
Lupin let out a strangled groan. The moment the silver powder touched air, it released a scent that made his skin burn as if branded, his lungs filled with molten lead. Even his magic stuttered and burned, thick and sluggish.
Douglas instantly shoved Lupin behind him, flicking his wand. An invisible barrier sprang up, blocking most of the silver dust, but the holy aura was everywhere, and it clawed at Lupin all the same.
Rustle... rustle...
Shadows moved among the trees. One after another, figures in dark monastic robes stepped out—silent knights, dozens of them.
They wielded gleaming silver longswords and ornate crossbows, moving in perfect, wordless sync. Like a pack of trained hounds, they tightened the circle, every step precise, every position a tactical choke point.
Their eyes held no fanaticism—only the chill of absolute discipline.
At their head was a tall, young woman.
In her left hand, a kite shield engraved with the crest of Saint Sebastian; her right hand rested calmly, not on her sword but raised in a gesture to halt.
Her gaze was as unyielding and cold as alpine ice, her voice steady as she directed her knights, her tactics so flawless it sent a chill down the spine. Step by step, she herded Douglas and Lupin toward the heart of the glowing net.
Lupin was falling apart.
In this domain, saturated with holy power, the werewolf in him was howling in agony. A primal, violent hunger surged up, begging him to leap and tear these clean-scented enemies limb from limb.
But his human mind fought back, crushing the urge. The battle between beast and man left him shaking, barely able to stand.
Douglas felt the tremors at his back. He didn't turn, just pressed himself closer, sharing what strength he could.
And all the while, he analyzed the enemy's formation.
The encirclement was tight. Every weapon—light nets, silver powder, crossbows—blocked every avenue of escape, yet left just enough space so their prey wouldn't panic and do something desperate.
They wanted them alive.
No, more precisely—their target was him.
At that moment, the female knight raised her hand.
The entire circle froze. Every knight halted, and only the wind howled through the trees.
Her voice, cold and clear, sliced through the night—each word heavy with unshakable authority:
"In the name of the Holy See and the Sacred Tribunal!"
Her gaze locked onto Douglas, her tone as merciless as a judge's verdict:
"Heretic Douglas Holmes, we have been waiting for you."
"Your holiday... is over."
Hearing his name spoken so precisely, Douglas didn't even flinch. Instead, his lips curled into a wry, almost mocking smile.
Just as he'd suspected.
His arrangements at the Roman hotel had only fooled a handful of them. He hadn't expected them to send out even the Sacred Shield.
This was a welcome fit for a king.
"Holiday?"
Douglas gave a soft laugh, utterly unfazed by the holy light and silver blades. He might as well have been strolling through his own garden.
He looked lazily up at the female knight.
"Knight, I'm afraid you're mistaken. My holiday is only just beginning. And you… you're about to be the most entertaining part of it."
A faint crease appeared between her brows—surprise at his composure, even mockery, in the face of overwhelming odds.
Behind her, the knights' eyes flashed with anger. Their grip on their weapons tightened.
"Silver tongues cannot wash away your sins," she replied, her voice still glacial. She slammed her shield to the ground with a dull thud, sending a halo of holy light rippling outward, thickening the sacred aura.
Lupin gave a strangled gasp, falling to one knee, sweat soaking his back as he fought for breath.
"Remus!"
Douglas immediately noticed, flicking his wand in a series of swift, intricate runes.
A pale blue, translucent shield shimmered into being around Lupin, runes flickering across its surface like scattered stars—struggling to hold back the encroaching holy power.
It wasn't a standard Protego. It was Douglas's own invention—a specialized insulation charm, designed to block out hostile energies.
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