Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 70: Arrival at Windhelm
The third magic is also completed.

When the invisible force field blade took shape and struck its target, its single-point destructive power, which Hera Molly had emphasized, was fully demonstrated—the flesh and blood imbued with dark magic was easily split apart, and the tough demonized body was directly split in two from the center, from the tail vertebrae to the skull, without any obstruction from the material.

——[Kill 1 White Walker and gain 100 resource points.]

The sound is clear and the results are noticeable.

Wu Chen glanced at his palm, sensing the flaws and errors in his previous spellcasting. He quickly identified some of the inconspicuous errors, and soon, the second force field blade was constructed with nearly a third the efficiency.

The mana consumption was indeed only at the level of a firebomb, and the destructive power of a single attack was indeed higher than that of a fireball. And the two remaining half-dead White Walkers were each hit by a single shot.

——I’ve become stronger again.

Five hundred resource points, successfully secured. Unfortunately, this abandoned mine held little weight in the fate of Skyrim, so no receipt was recorded. And the hidden test Hera Mori had entrusted to Wu Chen was about to be completed.

The only two spells left were Healing Reconstruction and Alliance Mark—the latter was not yet useful, but mastering the former wasn't difficult. Modern healing and classical healing techniques had many similarities, so it wouldn't take much time to understand them.

Wu Chen even had a premonition that as long as he put on the mask right now, it might only take a few tens of seconds to master the fourth academy technique.

He took a deep breath and took up his sword. Things were going well for him. He was in a hurry, but not in a rush—night hadn't fallen yet, and he still had a few hours to spare. Before heading to Windhelm, he planned to clean up the area.

And see if you can find another horse to ride.

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

Wu Chen failed. He explored the entire abandoned mine and the hills beyond it, but ultimately found nothing worth clearing out—no more dark creatures, not even any ferocious beasts. He found nothing to hunt, and no valuable treasures. His greatest haul was a few wallets filled with Septim.

Yet he succeeded, for while wandering among the surrounding hills he found the horse which Mirmenil had frightened away.

The horse was uninjured and appeared healthy. After a soothing spell was cast upon it, the still frightened warhorse became obedient once more. Wu Chen then mounted it again, gently kicking its belly and correcting its direction. It then found its way and headed steadily towards Feng Helmet.

The pace wasn't too fast, but the pace was just right. Wu Chen liked riding like this. He could let his horse do what he wanted, giving him time to practice and think. His temporary animal companion also liked this way of getting along, as Wu Chen found some carrots and cabbages in the mine and stuffed them into its mouth.

The people are very satisfied and the horses are also satisfied.

After that, nothing unexpected happened—no blind thieves, no hungry beasts. The old horse, knowing the way, quickly returned to the safe and smooth road, and soon he saw the beacon-lit Windhelm Watchtower in the distance.

He once again saw the group of sentinels - but the scene was not as awkward as he had expected, because he cut off the heads of the five killed White Walkers and hung them on the saddle of his warhorse.

"Thank you for killing those monsters. And... I'm sorry about what happened earlier."

The soldier, with whom he had a minor conflict, saluted him awkwardly, his rugged face flushed. He filled a clean cowhide bag with Skyrim liquor and gave it to Wu Chen as a reward.

"Take this with you. When it's windy and snowy... you can drink it and warm yourself up."

The leather bag was of a unique design, with seamless etched markings on it. It might be some unique Nord item, and Wu Chen nodded and accepted it.

The snow was falling harder. Beyond the watchtower, the outline of Windhelm loomed ahead. It was an ancient city nestled against the towering mountains. And the towering palaces of the kings were far more massive than those seen in the game.

It was a bit like the White City in The Lord of the Rings, only much larger. The White River, a massive river that ran through almost the entire province of Skyrim, passed in front of this ancient city, and to cross it, one had to cross a broad stone bridge.

Many fishing boats were busy on the White River, braving the heavy snow, perhaps catching their last nets at dusk. Guards patrolled the bridge, but they merely glanced at the string of White Walker heads hanging from Wuchen's saddle and the leather pouch hanging from his waist before letting him step onto the bridge.

The pass was not used. No one came to register with him or question him.

Many Khajiit had set up camp in the open space on either side of the bridge, stocked with goods, creating a bustling little market. Within the innermost tent, Wu Chen even had a vague recollection of several lavishly dressed Khajiit. He vaguely remembered the leader of the Windhelm Khajiit caravan as Madelan, who also had a follower who could teach players lockpicking techniques.

Wu Chen hated lock picking—he had spent a lot of time being tortured by master-level locks when he was playing. But now, he had mastered the Alexander-style lock picking method.

My thoughts were cut off silently.

He had already passed through the gates of Windhelm, and suddenly he felt a slight squeeze on his magic. An invisible force from the depths of the city materialized within him, suppressing his spellcasting.

It wasn't a restriction; the suppression wasn't severe. But it felt like a warning. He realized that if he cast a spell of a certain level in this city, it would be sensed and marked by the entire city.

This is the Nords' attitude towards wizards—not hostile, but wary. Accepting them, but also wary.

This also means that he has fallen into the sight of city managers.

"Kind person, please give poor Hilda some money..." A voice came from the side. An old woman in tattered clothes was begging near the gate of Windhelm City. Wu Chen knew her. She was an expert pickpocket trainer. If it weren't for the fact that all the thieves at that time had a bad end, Wu Chen really didn't want to get close to her and talk to her.

"Keep it." A few Septim were placed in her hands. She immediately nodded in thanks to Wu Chen and said auspicious words to him.

"The Holy Spirit bless you, sir. The Holy Spirit bless you."

It feels like nothing has changed.

Wu Chen vaguely remembered that in the game, giving alms to beggars would grant a temporary boost to one's eloquence. The ability to persuade others would be enhanced, and it seemed that this was a special effect exclusive to the Destined Dragonborn.

He waved his hand.

Then tilt your head.

On the other side of the city gate, a long-haired female warrior with a calm face and elegant figure was standing there quietly looking at him.

"Please follow me, Master Dust."

"Lady Hera asked me to take you to see her."

(End of this chapter)