Demon Lord Shapeshifting System

Chapter 254 At The Devil’s Hour

Chapter 254 At The Devil's Hour

The Imposter snapped its neck behind it, and suddenly turned invisible again. It seemed to have lunged at Artea as she fell backwards, the shears still in her hands.

"You!!! You just can't wait for your turn, huh!? Must you steal this moment from me!?"

It then shoved Artea down, but only one of its arms was working. The other now lay limp in the ground, acting almost like a weight to drag him down.

It's the same thing with its head, which doesn't really move as it speaks. A voice continued to speak through it though, and yelled with rage as move quickly to peel the skin off Artea's face—"

"Ahhhhh!"

That shout wasn't hers.

Harker managed to put himself between them on time, and it was his shoulder that got grabbed by The Imposter. It tore into his flesh and took his skin from him.

The Imposter may not be able to make expressions, but it made a gasp of shock from what it has done. Before it could fully recover from the shock, Harker moved to take the scissor from Artea and cut the last two strings from its body!

The Imposter then collapsed, falling with its limbs all over the place. Harker helped Artea out of its gigantic body, and he aimed the scissors to its neck.

"How do we get out of here? Where's the book? Tell me!"

The Imposter just made a hoarse chuckle. The hoarseness sounded like the voicebox of someone who had not spoken for a long time, or perhaps it was because the organs that were meant to make it work had become weak.

"Even if you find the book….. You will never escape until the Devil's Hour."

Harker's eyes widened as the one outcome he never expected arrived, The strings didn't reattach on the Imposter, instead.

He was surrounded by that group of mannequins again. Only this time, they were also in their true form with elongated, dark bodies? and wide unblinking eyes.

Harker held the garden shears, the only weapon they had at the moment. They can look for more, but the fact that they were already surrounded meant that any amount of weapons would be pointless. Even if they put up a fight…..

This was the creature's domain, and they could roam freely in it.

Just like in that circus tent where Harker fought the Big Bear, they had always been there and only liked to play with their prey. When they could easily travel through these shadows unseen, and attacked them.

This was it. The end of the line.

Harker never knew how much he relied on his skills until now. The concept of putting up a fight even as a 'normal' human did not even come to his mind, because he already knew precisely how strong these monsters were. He knew that even with just one Ability, no ordinary human would be of match to him.

He looked at the garden shears in his hand, and thought about putting it on his neck to make it quick….

"W-What are we going to do, Harker?"

At that moment, when he heard that scarred voice, he was reminded that there was somebody else beside him. Another life was in his hands. He had always hated the part of him that feels guilty and responsible for everybody else, but….

In this moment, it was needed. It was his anchor in order to not give in to despair.

Personal and selfish purposes never last long. At least not to him. His desire for self-preservation wasn't as strong as his rationality when it comes to how realistic it would be for him to survive in a land full of Imposters.

But with someone relying on him…..

He can let go of all that shit and do something stupid just to protect them.

Does this make him like those naive heroes? Fuck that. He doesn't care anymore. He needed a reason to keep going, and even if that reason may seem silly to others, then let them fuck themselves!

He and Artea will survive this night!

He aimed his shears to slash through the closest mannequin's strings. They fought and clawed against him, raking even more of his skin. But Harker ignored the pain, and only thought about saving the innocent by his side…..

Just like his father did many years ago against a mob.

His heart was not just an organ that pumps blood in his veins. It was a living symbol within him, a reminder that he was still here, that he still had a purpose. It beats faster the closer he was to that purpose, whether he was making love with his women, or fighting monsters to protect his family…

And even strangers he barely knew.

There was a universal desire within him to extend his compassion to the whole world, to those who he deemed to deserve it. Whether he was right or wrong about that judgment does not matter.

His decision was his own to make.

"Artea! Catch! Defend yourself!"

He broke the two combined blades of the shear apart, turning them into small knives. One for him, and one for Artea. This way, while he continues fighting for his life and his own, Artea could also do the same.

He put his trust in her capabilities and her standing as his companion-in-arms.

He and Artea did their best to ward them off. But they seemed to be endless, and they sometimes had to run whenever they would get too close and get them completely surrounded. Still, they needed to get close to cut the strings too.

It was a difficult affair, and yet Harker believed they could make it through.

Because he knew what the Devil's Hour must be.

"Ok! Come with me!" Harker suddenly said, holding Artea's hand full of her own blood.

Her worst damage was the large gash by her right thigh, but other than that, she was doing alright. The mannequins seemed to avoid hurting their faces and heads as much as possible. That meant they only needed to cover their chest and torso area, which wasn't easy, but still preferable than having to cover their heads too.

"It's 3: 30 a.m. now. The Devil's Hour is 3:33. We only need to wait for 3 minutes!"

She looked at him in confusion, but still ran with him. They hid in one of the rooms of the unfinished building, and closed the door. They blocked it with their own bodies, huffing as they tried to catch their breaths.

3 minutes….. They could definitely survive in 3 minutes.

Harker looked at his watch again. 3:32, now...

He counted the seconds as they went. There was pressure against the door as the Imposters tried to make their way through.

They could travel as something invisible through the shadows, but they don't become immaterial. They just blend with it, which was very much a relief.

Thankfully, the windows were far from enough from the door. But once they break it—-

"20…. 19…. 18…."

Harker and Artea counted with their shaky voices.

CRASH!

One managed to slam its hands and break the window, reaching out. Artea went to cut its string with a scream!

"3… 2… 1! It's over!"

Harker exclaimed—

When another hand had managed to come through the broken window and struck his chest.

Harker had no time to react as that hand pulled his heart out, and blood came pouring out from the hole it made.

"HARKER!!!!"

She was so horrified by the grotesque scene that she passed out from shock.