Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 183 Pretending to be Alive
Breathe.

calm.

It wasn't a big problem, not as big as I had imagined—dreams aren't impossible to enter, and there were no unexpected errors in my attempts to enter a dream. And just like every time I entered a dream before, it always took a fraction of a second, or a few tens of seconds, to go from waking up to entering the dream state.

This period of time is not long.

The premise is that none of this happens under the watchful eye of an ancient pure-blooded lord.

It's not that I can't, but I don't dare.

Even a fraction of a second, if Ramaya discovers it, it's likely a death sentence. However, this also reveals a crucial piece of information.

Ramaya was so concerned about the 'interference of dreams' that she even abandoned a planned performance.

—So, what are the chances that a dream used to seal Ramaya, this ancient pure-blooded lord, was completely controlled by her from the very beginning?

The answer is no, because this is Mondas. The Dream of Godhead—the existence and status of dreams are far higher than in other universes. And a dream completely controlled by a prisoner can hardly be called a prison.

Take Miraak, for example—the first Dragonborn, a loser in the Dragon Wars, and an ancient dragon priest banished to the Thorsham Ghosts. Wasn't his resurrection achieved through massive dream interference based on the Thorsham Stone, thus rewriting his rewritten legends upon the land?
Redefining the dream of Godhead with his own dream—this is the immortal path to godhood. When the original storyline began, Miraak's arrangements were almost fully in place. He had torn apart Mora's alternate history, and the ascension to heaven was within reach. If he were given just a little more time, perhaps a new dragon-breaking ascension would erupt.

So……

—Ramaye is eroding this dream, the dream that has bound her for thousands of years, and has already succeeded several times. But in the original timeline, Ramaye doesn't exist at all—ignoring any strange mod effects, that only proves that the original Sealers planned this long ago… Yes, even Miraak, after plundering the Otherverse, needed the Heartstone of Solstheim as a medium to erode reality. So Ramaye is the same!
Understanding dreams is only the foundation; dreams also need a medium to replicate reality. And whatever the medium may be, it needs to act as the driving force.

—That dragon.

—The dragon that Mill mentioned, the one hiding here—damn, there aren't any reliable, powerful dragons in the A Song of Ice and Fire storyline. Could it be the dragon from the House of Dragons version? But in the era of the House of Dragons, the White Walkers seemed to be asleep?
—Could it be a version of a game's world? Or even a mobile game?
I don't understand, but the key has been discovered.

This dream is ultimately a prison; no matter how much Ramaya tries to erode it, she can never completely control it. And whatever Ramaya wants to do with this dream, she can only choose one medium to intervene.

They are those vampires.

Like Callisto, they were seized upon by her and managed to be transformed into vampires of her bloodline. So…

—I'd venture a guess: while she allows her offspring to return to the dream world, she certainly hopes they would return to the real world to fulfill their duties and gain more influence. So…

She should be happy to see a person in a dream suddenly have a conflict with one of her offspring, forcing this offspring, who may have returned to the dream to recuperate from an injury, to return to reality.

His thoughts raced, and a plan quickly took shape in his mind. Setting aside his earlier rash conclusion made in his excitement—assuming Hera Morley's judgment wasn't wrong, but rather that she had overlooked the need to enter a dream to transcend her limitations—he reasoned that, based on this premise, he wouldn't encounter any significant danger in this dream realm, even if he tried to find the dragon.

After all, searching is not plundering. As the person in the dream, disguised by an identity, one is capable of taking some dangerous, but logical, actions.

As long as... you haven't really been exposed yet.

"Probably not." Wu Chen gently pressed his chest, then casually tugged at the collar of his overly expensive and luxurious garment, adorned with gold thread and gemstones. He slightly shifted his demeanor from his usual meticulousness towards a more unrestrained and carefree attitude. His previously wavering mindset was thus properly adjusted, and even though his most important cheat was temporarily unavailable, he remained calm and composed.

So……

When he finished dressing up with the help of a maid, transforming into a lavish, dark nobleman imbued with the stereotypical vampire images from his past life, he saw again the Nord girl bearing the name Lemma, but most likely a miniature version of the Blood Mother Ramaya—her long golden hair was now styled, and she wore a white dress that was both appropriate and overly figure-hugging—the girl's hands were somewhat awkwardly tugging at her sleeves and the hem of her skirt. And she was no longer as aggressive as before.

Wu Chen's gaze swept over the dress.

"It's a nice piece of clothing, but hmm, there are more restraints under the fabric than I expected."

"This is your masterpiece, have you forgotten?" The head vampire maid bowed slightly to him and smiled. "It was specially made to discipline maids who did not behave properly. Many of the sisters still remember it vividly."

"Is that so?" Wu Chen waved his hand. "I don't remember."

He rose and walked around Lemère for a short while. The girl's posture and movements had indeed acquired a remarkable degree of propriety and elegance in a very short time. Apart from the resistance in her pale green eyes, she truly possessed the appearance of a lady.

So Wu Chen stretched out a finger and lifted the girl's chin. Although he didn't quite understand what a domineering CEO was, he had served as a powerful regent for a time. Therefore, his actions and demeanor also carried an air of authority and arrogance.

“Very good, very good.” He examined the girl’s body, trying to find some inhuman elements within it, but ultimately failed. For a moment, he even doubted whether the girl in front of him was just someone who happened to share the same name, rather than Ramaya’s alternate identity.

He didn't believe it.

The finger was raised, allowing the suddenly sprang-up girl to bite hard—the bitten party was completely unaware, while the other side emitted a muffled groan of pain. The status of the Dark Night Nobles was based on the power they possessed. And the vampire that Wu Chen was currently playing undoubtedly possessed high-level power because of the ash material used as a medium.

"Hmph." Wu Chen's gentlemanly demeanor screamed in his head, urging him to remain polite. But his fingertips continued to extend forward, and with a muffled groan from the girl, he pinched her fingers together—pulling half an inch out of her three-inch clove, causing Lei Mei to cry out in pain. He then released her, his slightly damp fingers tracing her cheek.

It is indeed a person; it looks like one, and it feels one when you touch it.

Wu Chen, having so abruptly approached the beautiful woman, had already given up hope of a low-key exit—he waved his hand and stepped towards the door. No explanation was needed; the servants in the mansion would naturally cooperate with him. A carriage was already prepared, its interior and exterior exuding the luxurious atmosphere unique to vampires.

“Do I need to say ‘please’, my dance partner?” He stepped into the carriage without waiting or turning around to look at Lemère. Although she still tried to struggle, the vampire maid who had been holding her down from behind simply pushed her into the carriage seat.

The speculation was confirmed.

Wu Chen leaned back in the soft seat and stretched.

He was confident that his performance this time was in line with the character's personality and the needs of the audience.

For right before him, in his eyes, the walnut-wood carriage in front of him, the velvet cushions beneath him, had all silently transformed into countless eyes, large and small. Crimson, clustered, densely packed, numbering nearly a thousand, and at this moment, they stood in perfect unison, staring intently.

Watching him perform.

(End of this chapter)