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

Chapter 112 Midnight Chariot, Dwarf Technology, Kid!

The night wind swirled dry fallen leaves across the concrete pavement of Magnolia Crescent Street.

Harry sat on his trunk, still panting. As the adrenaline subsided, cold and fear returned to his body.

"Love," he asked in a low voice, his teeth still chattering, "what's this chariot you're talking about...? Where are we going?"

"Go anywhere safe," Rowe replied without turning around, "but before that, we need to deal with the tail."

.

"A tail?" Harry looked around nervously.

Just then, he felt a chill run down the back of his neck. Something seemed to move in the shadows opposite them. Through the neatly trimmed hedge, two enormous, gleaming eyes were fixed on them.

[Warning: Hostile staring detected.]

Recommended action: Immediate deportation.

"come out!"

Lowe growled and suddenly drew his wand from his waist.

In that instant, his aura became incredibly fierce. The killing intent was so real that the large black dog hiding in the bushes visibly flinched.

After a rustling sound, the glowing eyes disappeared into the darkness.

"It got away." Rowe sheathed his sword, his brow furrowed. "A cunning scout."

Harry didn't see any scouts at all; he just felt that Rowe was acting even more strangely than before. But before he could ask, a loud bang suddenly exploded in the street.

boom!

Harry was so startled that he fell backward and landed on the grass.

A bright purple, three-story-high bus appeared out of nowhere in front of them. It seemed to have been squeezed out of thin air, and the wind whipped up by its wheels nearly overturned the roadside trash cans.

The words "Knight Bus" are written in gold letters on the windshield.

Vehicle identification: Dwarven siege vehicle.

[Attributes: Chaos/Spatial Jump/Extremely Unstable.]

[Comment: Only the most insane dwarven engineer would dare design such a monster that crams dozens of ghostly warhorses into an iron box.]

The car door opened, and a young man wearing a purple uniform, with protruding ears and a face full of acne jumped out.

"Welcome aboard the Knight Bus, an emergency passenger service for witches and wizards in distress. Just extend your wand and hop on, and we'll take you wherever you want to go. I'm Stan Sampark, the ticket seller, tonight..."

Stan suddenly stopped talking.

He saw a tall man in a trench coat scrutinizing the car with a stern look, seemingly appraising it as an "illegal modification of prohibited items."

"The armor thickness is barely acceptable." Rowe patted the metal body, making a dull thud. "But the suspension looks like it's about to collapse. What are you using for power? Gunpowder or enslaved trolls?"

Stan's mouth dropped open: "...Uh, this is magic, buddy. Who are you?"

"I'm a ranger from the Fellowship of the Ring," Rowe said, pointing to Harry on the ground. "This is my ward. We're heading to the Leaky Cauldron; it's the only safe place we have right now."

Stan glanced at Rowe, then at the embarrassed Harry, "Alright, Mr. Ranger. Eleven silver sieves, anywhere. If you pay fourteen, you'll get hot chocolate..."

Rowe pulled a handful of silver coins from his pocket and flicked them into Stan's hand.

"Two tickets. Enough talk, let's drive. The scouts are probably still nearby."

Stan shrugged and helped them lift the heavy boxes onto the car.

There were no seats in the vehicle, only half a dozen beds with brass frames and candles lit beside them. The beds looked very unstable and creaked as the vehicle shook.

The driver was an old wizard wearing thick glasses, who was staring intently ahead at the empty street.

"That's Ern," Stan pointed to the driver. "Alright, you can find any bed you like..."

"No.

"

Lowe refused the comfortable bed. He walked to a brass pillar, spread his legs, bent his knees slightly, and assumed a stable horse stance. His hands gripped the pillar tightly, as if clinging to the mast of a ship in a storm.

"Harry, hold on to something steady!" Rowe shouted a warning. "This vehicle's shock absorption system is catastrophic!"

"What?" Harry had just sat down on a bed.

The next second, there was another earth-shattering "bang"!

Harry felt himself being thrown out. The bed, which had been there, suddenly slid backward, and he rolled like a bowling ball to the back of the carriage.

The bus sped off at a speed defying the laws of physics. The scenery outside the window became blurred silhouettes. Streetlights, mailboxes, and even houses seemed to leap away in terror as they passed.

This isn't driving at all; it's a series of spatial jumps!

[WARNING: Space structure is extremely unstable.]

[Phase warp in progress...]

Lowe's body swayed violently from side to side as the vehicle shook violently, but he never let go or even moved an inch.

"Hold on!" he shouted to Harry, who was getting up from the ground. "It's just a minor bug in the dwarven technology! That orc driver was drunk!"

Ern Pran, clearly oblivious to Rowe's inner grumbling, was jerking the steering wheel, making the three-decker bus perform an impossible sharp turn.

Harry was thrown onto another bed again.

"What's your name?" Stan asked, looking at the rock-solid Rowe with interest. He clearly found this man, who treated car travel like a battle, quite amusing.

"Aragorn," Rowe casually gave a name, "As for him..."

He pointed at Harry, who was trying not to vomit. Harry frantically winked at him and tried to hide the scar on his forehead in his hair.

"He is... Frodo," Rowe said without changing his expression, "also a traveler who doesn't want to cause trouble."

Stan looked at Harry suspiciously. "Frodo? That sounds like a strange name. But he looks kind of familiar..."

boom!

The bus suddenly braked hard, instantly dropping from 100 miles per hour to zero.

Stan lost his balance and fell headfirst into the messy pile of blankets. Harry, on the other hand, slammed into the headboard, wincing in pain.

Only Luo Wei, relying on his astonishing core strength, managed to stabilize himself despite the inertia. Although his stomach was churning, he endured it without showing it.

Outside the window, an old lady was slowly crossing the road.

"Damn it!" Rowe cursed under his breath. "That's why I hate dwarven vehicles. They'll never understand what 'smoothness' means."

The bus bounced back and forth between farmhouses in Wales, the high streets of Birmingham, and the Scottish Highlands. Each jump was accompanied by a loud noise and violent jolts.

Harry had completely given up resisting. He lay paralyzed on the bed, his face ashen, feeling as if his internal organs had shifted out of place.

Loewe remained standing there like a statue.

[System Settlement:]

[Event Experience: The Ghost Carriage's Rampage.]

[Judgment: Maintained a combat stance in an extremely harsh spatial teleportation environment.]

[Reward: Constitution +1, gain the passive skill [Motion Sickness Resistance Lv.1] (currently resistance +5).]

Finally, after yet another nauseatingly sharp stop, Stan announced loudly, "Leaky Cauldron, here we are!"

At that moment, for Harry and Rowe, it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

Lowe released the brass pillar and let out a long breath. He reached out his hand to Harry, who was almost exhausted.

"We've arrived, Oath-holder. We have successfully crossed the Wasteland of Death."