The person is at Hogwarts, but the system is in Middle-earth!

Chapter 92 Dark Inscriptions, Final Preparations!

The journey to the second floor is not long.

The castle was eerily quiet. The sun had completely set, and what should have been a boisterous evening banquet was now deathly silent. All the students had been ordered back to the common room, and even the ghosts had vanished. The teachers patrolled the corridors, except for the one currently sandwiched in the middle, of course.

"I...I feel unwell." Gilderoy Lockhart stopped at the top of the stairs on the second floor, gripping the handrail tightly. His face was paler than Myrtle's. "I suddenly remembered that I have a letter for my readers in my office...it's a farewell letter! I have to go and mail it!"

“Keep going, Grimaldi,” Rowe nudged him with the back of his frying pan. “Your readers will understand. After all, you’re on your way to accomplish a great cause—though forced into it. If we’re going to die, at least you’ll die on the charge, not hanged as a deserter.”

They turned the corner and came into the corridor where the attack had taken place.

Harry stopped abruptly, gasping for breath.

On the wall in front of them, just below where Filch's cat had been petrified, a new line of writing appeared, flashing an unsettling red light.

[Warning: Dark Language Inscription Detected]

[Source: Modo]

[Translation in progress...]

Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.

(Her remains will remain in the secret chamber forever.)

[Translation result: Ashnazgdurbatulük... (Supreme Commandment, Commander of All Beings, Supreme Commandment, Seeker of All Beings...)]

[Judgment: This is an ultimatum from Mordor. Sauron is mocking our incompetence; he is declaring war on all free people.]

"Ginny..." Ron sobbed, his legs buckling as he nearly collapsed to his knees on the cold floor. "We're too late...it's all over..."

No.

A hand gripped Ron's arm firmly and lifted him up like an iron clamp.

"It's not over yet, Sam," Rowe echoed in the empty corridor. "As long as we haven't seen a body, it means she's still resisting. Rohan's children won't give in easily, even in the deepest darkness."

"But...but it says..." Ron pointed to the wall, his fingers trembling violently, tears blurring his vision, "...to remain forever in the secret chamber..."

"That's psychological warfare from the enemy." Rowe didn't even glance at the words on the wall, staring only at the darkness ahead. "They're trying to break your will. Soren's greatest skill is creating fear. Don't listen, don't look. Look at my back. If you're consumed by fear, then you've truly lost."

Lockhart stared at the words on the wall and let out a shriek like a cat whose tail had been stepped on: "Oh my God! We have to go back! We have to go back! Even Professor McGonagall said it's hopeless! This is murder! This is suicide!"

"Oh? Did she say that?" Rowe turned his head.

"Just now! In the faculty lounge!" Lockhart shouted incoherently, waving his arms. "They're all there! McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick... they're all pressuring me! They're saying, 'You've been bragging about knowing where the entrance is, haven't you? Go, Gilderoy, this is your moment!' Merlin's beard, I just wanted to shut them up! I didn't know there were monsters there!"

"So, you were exiled by the White Way." Lowe nodded, a hint of pity in his voice. "It seems even Saruman isn't willing to completely turn against the Allied Forces for a useless pawn. You've been sacrificed, Grimaldi. There's no turning back for you."

"I am not Grimald! I am Gilderoy Lockhart! A third-class Sergeant of the Order of Merlin! An honorary member of the League Against the Dark Arts! A five-time winner of the Wizarding Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award!"

Right now, you're just a pathfinder.

Luo Wei ignored his hysteria and turned to walk towards the girls' dormitory at the end of the corridor.

"We're here." Harry took a deep breath and pushed open the wooden door. "This is it. Myrtle's bathroom."

The bathroom was still dark and damp, the mirror was covered in stains, and there were puddles of water on the floor. Myrtle was sitting on the innermost toilet tank, swinging her transparent legs. When she saw someone come in, she floated out.

"It's you all again," she said quietly. "And you... Professor Lockhart? What are you doing here? Don't you always complain that this place is dirty?"

"Coming to die...no, I mean, to solve problems!" Lockhart forced a smile. "You know, as a professor, I have a responsibility..."

“We’re here to find the entrance, Myrtle,” Harry interrupted him, stepping forward. “That monster…it took Ginny. We need to know where it came from.”

While Harry and Myrtle were negotiating, Rowe placed the heavy backpack heavily on the dusty sink.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, sniffing. He saw Rowe pulling out pieces of...knee pads wrapped in torn leather straps and duct tape from his bag.

"Preparation".

Rowe gave a brief reply. He took off his robe, revealing the shirt underneath, and began to put on the "modified" Quidditch gear.

These protective gear pieces had clearly been meticulously "reinforced." Lowe had glued various shiny metal pieces onto them—cut from tin cans he'd salvaged from an abandoned classroom, and even a few worn-down beer bottle caps.

[Equipment: Mithril Chainmail (Fake)]

[Materials: Recycled metal sheets + Old Hogwarts protective gear + Industrial glue]

[Attributes: Defense +1 (Physical), Defense +0 (Magical), Mental Comfort +10, Evasion Rate -5 (due to its weight)]

[Description: Though it cannot stop the troll's club, much less the basilisk's fangs, it reflects a glimmer of hope in the darkness. This is the romance of the wandering knight.]

After donning his chainmail, Rowe looked like a medieval knight who had crawled out of a rubbish heap. He then pulled a black whetstone from his bag.

"Zhiyi"

He drew his wand and began to slowly sharpen it on the whetstone. Wood shavings flew everywhere.

Shh...shh...shh...

"Love..." Harry couldn't help but turn around, his face filled with horror. "You're sharpening... a wand? That's a wand! Not a dagger!"

'

"This is called sharpening," Rowe said without looking up. "Narsil has been dormant for far too long. While blunt weapons can stun demons from the depths, only a sharp blade can pierce dragon hide. Besides, if the magic fails, I can use it to kill that snake."

Harry opened his mouth, but ultimately chose to remain silent. At this moment, Rowe's ravings actually gave him a strange sense of security—at least one person seemed completely unafraid of the monster, and was even considering how to slice it into pieces.

A few minutes later, Rowe put away the whetstone and blew away the sawdust from the tip of his wand. He put on his welding goggles, held the frying pan in his left hand (protecting his chest) and the wand in his right (sword tip pointing downwards).

"alright."

He walked over to Harry, looked at this "savior" through his dark glasses, and then patted him heavily on the shoulder.

"I know you're scared, Harry. The road ahead leads into darkness, and perhaps we'll never come back."

"But you're not fighting alone. The Ranger will clear the way for you, and Sam will cover your retreat." He glanced at Lockhart, who was still trembling and trying to shrink into a corner. "As for him... although he's a piece of trash, at least he can help us trigger the first trap or draw the dragon's attention."

Rowe turned to the faucet engraved with a small snake, which was the gate to the Moria Mine.

"Now, open it, you who uphold the precepts."

"Speak the elf's secret word to that door. Say 'friend,' and then enter."

[System Settlement: Preparations Complete]

[Overall morale: Upgraded]

[Gain the status buff: Heart of No Fear]

[Effect: Willpower check +5 when facing an aura of fear. You are prepared to face death.]