Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 15: Nightfall on the Bone Ridge
Eastmar is located in the eastern part of Skyrim, and Windhelm is located in the north-central part of Eastmar. Lazard estimated that it would take seven full days to travel from the south of Eastmar, where the Mist Tower is located, to Windhelm.

Seven days in the wild, seven days of sleeping in the open air.

Thanks to the ancient Nords, there are more or less remnants of ancient brick and stone roads in various parts of Skyrim - just like the roads built by the Roman Empire are still used by people a thousand years later. Following the blessings of these predecessors, merchants can save a lot of time and effort.

Of course, they occasionally encountered minor obstacles—like wolves attacking the caravan camp under cover of darkness, or highwaymen collecting tolls near ancient bridges. These Skyrim natives would easily detect the caravan's lack of defense and abundant goods, and they would readily open their greedy mouths without hesitation.

One puff, a big fireball.

Dragon Priest's offerings, guaranteed to satisfy. After witnessing Wu Chen's martial prowess, the survivors, who had been somewhat uneasy, finally put aside their lingering concerns and focused on their promising job of acting as a lookout for Wu Chen.

Go forward, go forward, and pause occasionally to rest.

The caravan had plenty of food and fuel. There was no need to waste time on meaningless tasks. On the third day of the journey, the caravan arrived at a small village that Wu Chen had no memory of in the game. Lazard did some small business with the villagers. Some of the survivors had their hometowns here.

Wu Chen ignored them—he remained seated in the sturdiest and quietest carriage, reading and studying. After overcoming his initial fear of the demon god, he found himself truly grateful to the witch named Hera Molly. If she hadn't provided him with the textbooks, he would have likely been so bored during the journey that he would have done something nonsensical.

Fortunately, there are books.

The caravan didn't stay here for long—Lazard dismissed some of the men and recruited a few newcomers who wanted to venture out. The entire caravan now had a basic force beyond Wu Chen, so at least they would stop any roadblocks until their number exceeded five.

Of course, if you don't stop, you will still have to eat Wu Chen's fireball.

Fireball is great.

Wu Chen felt that if he had a favorite local specialty in Skyrim, it would definitely be Skyrim's Fireball. He had no doubt that he would take the Fireball back to his home on Earth as a souvenir.

So I kept walking.

The wheels turn and the slow horse trots.

The cold wind and warm sunshine blew on the earth, and the lack of rain was the best news in the past few days.

until……

"That's Boneless Ridge. A place filled with terrifying legends. It's said that terrifying monsters linger on the mountaintop, and some even say they've seen the shadow of a dragon there."

Day 4, night.

After setting up camp, Wu Chen looked towards the distant mountains - he could clearly sense the faint oppressive force emanating from the mountain, and the dragon priest's mask was also trembling slightly, foreshadowing the crisis there.

A dragon slumbers there—it hasn't awakened yet. But even if it hasn't awakened yet, its remains still release the breath of immortal dragons.

The dragon priest's mask could absorb the dragon's aura. However, until the dragon's sealed tomb was breached by the black dragon Alduin, releasing the dragons slumbering within, the mask could only do so much. After all, the dragon's tomb was essentially a seal for the ancient Nord dragon-slayer. Wu Chen had no power to break it, whether from the outside or from within.

"You don't want to go up there, do you, Danxter?" Lazard admonished. "Lazard has heard many tragic stories of those who attempted to explore the Scattered Bone Ridge. Most never return, and the few who do only utter incoherent mumblings—'mammoth skulls transformed into pure white bridges, ancient corpses singing'... Lazard doesn't want to go near such a thing."

That's not actually nonsense.

Wu Chen knew what lay up there—it wasn't like he hadn't climbed it before in the game. After the main storyline began, the sleeping dragon would return to the summit of the ridge. If one visited the ridge before then, they would see a swarm of undead skeletons crawling out of their coffins. And no matter when one chose to explore, the path leading to the summit was indeed littered with countless mammoth skeletons, stretching out in a continuous mass.

There's no point in going up there.

In terms of gameplay, even before the dragons returned, there was a high-level treasure chest there that rewarded explorers. However, it was obvious that if he went up there now, he probably wouldn't find anything - perhaps the Dragon Language Wall, which was distributed in all dragon habitats, was still standing there, but that was meaningless to Wu Chen.

——I can speak Dragon Language.

As long as Wu Chen dons the mask, he can discern and even speak the Dragon Language. This ability is invaluable for developing high-level magic, but at this point, it offers little benefit. He can only speak the Dragon Language, but cannot unleash the power of its language like a true dragon. A true dragon's voice transforms into a powerful "Tumu" (a form of speech) capable of directly commanding all creation. Only the Dragonborn, bearing the destiny of the protagonist, can slay a dragon and directly devour its power and knowledge, thereby unlocking the power of "Tumu."

The dragon language wall with the eye-spitting runes was useless to him because he already knew the dragon language.

Before absorbing the dragon's power, if he wanted to release even the simplest of spit, he would have to spend years or even decades adapting and learning, just like the ancient Nord heroes or the modern grey-bearded monks.

Wu Chen waved his hand and returned to the tent that the caravan guards had set up for him. When he left, Lazard breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hu..." His breath got stuck in his throat.

"Then I have a question." Wu Chen suddenly poked his head out of the tent.

The Khajiit coughed loudly.

"Since you know this place is dangerous, why are you still camping at the foot of the ridge? It's not like you haven't walked at night before, so why don't you keep going?"

"Because there's a swamp ahead! My friend, cough, swamp!" Lazard rubbed his chest vigorously, trying to calm down a little. "Behind us is the Dark Forest, and ahead is a swamp that can only be walked through during the day. This is the only suitable campsite for dozens of miles. No other place is suitable."

He waved his hands vigorously.

"Don't worry, Lazard has camped here before. As long as you're careful, there will be at most a few wild wolves or small creatures like mud crabs at night. As long as you don't get close to the Boneless Ridge, there won't be any problems here."

He looks very confident.

He is a professional, and people born under the Tiger sign always value their lives.

Wu Chen nodded and returned to his tent without hesitation. He lit some calming incense, meditated, and closed his eyes.

The incense smelled good. It helped with sleep. Even though Wu Chen had a certain degree of trust in Lazard, he still couldn't let himself completely relax and fall into a deep sleep at night.

He had thus learned a skill—or rather, a knowledge from the dragon priest's mask. Through a special, rhythmic way of thinking, he was able to get enough sleep even in a shallow rest. And if there was any disturbance nearby, he could—

........................

Wu Chen opened his eyes and subconsciously raised his hand. The mask was attached to his face, and the steel armor technique was activated.

There are strange noises.

There was a strange movement.

He had already formed a huge fireball between his fingers, ready to release it at any moment. And just as he was about to take action, a sound finally came from outside.

"Who's there!" It was Lazard's voice.

There was the grinding of steel, the straining of bowstrings. The caravan's temporary guards shouted and clamored, accompanied by subtle noises from afar.

It wasn't the sound of a battle.

The wind before Wu Chen's eyes rose in the wind, stirred by the power of magic, and the tent opened. He stepped outside. The two bright moons in the sky were not very clear in the night sky. It was undoubtedly a thin layer of mist.

Lazard appeared in Wu Chen's eyes.

"Daxter, my friend," he said, his ears perking up slightly. "A group of Sentinels have visited our camp."

(End of this chapter)