Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 176 Hera's Actions

“It’s Ramaya.”

Hera Magic raised her hand and closed the book. Vast amounts of knowledge converged and gathered in her eyes, ultimately forming the correct conclusion.

Ramaya.

Ramaya Belfago.

She was originally an ordinary Nid—the precursor to the Nords—a noblewoman. In ancient times, she was caught up in conflict, enslavement, and the struggle between the tyrannical demon Morag Bal and the holy spirit Akai, who ruled over death, due to her own misfortune. In order to prove his dominion over mortal souls, the demon disguised himself as an ordinary man and abducted the virgin Ramaya from her family.

The demon defiled her, turning her screams into howling winds that tore through the valleys of Skyrim. And a drop of the demon's blood, under Baal's will, fell upon Ramaya's brow, thus giving pain, hatred, and twisted emotions their initial vessel.

Ramaya did not die; she lay unconscious and was found by a passing nomadic tribe—the nomads took her in and cared for her until she died two weeks later. However, when the nomads dressed her in her burial clothes and formally classified her into the world of the dead, this twisted vessel, filled with hatred and rage, rose again from the burning fire.

She killed the nomads—tearing open women's throats and devouring children's eyes. And as a demon had defiled her, she defiled all the men. This was the birth ritual of the 'Bloody Matriarch,' and with the appearance of this first vampire, this evil race, originating from Skyrim, spread throughout the land.

Vampires are indeed evil creatures.

Only a very few exceptions can be considered as less evil aberrant species.

When the Demon God returned to Annihilation, the human era began. Ramaya, having largely gained her freedom, did not hate the Demon God who had brought her to this state—she accepted her identity and power as a vampire, abandoning her mortal faith in the Holy Spirit Akai. As the source of vampires, she quickly discovered a truth deliberately designed by the Demon God: Ramaya's power depended on the number of her offspring. This became her driving force, propelling her relentlessly to expand the vampire race throughout her long life.

It did indeed do that.

Because it was once a noble family, it was more inclined to cultivate offspring within the upper echelons of power—and soon, a large number of high-ranking vampires were successfully transformed under the will of the Blood Mother. Of course, there were also many ambitious individuals who chose to offer sacrifices to the demon god themselves rather than obtain a secondhand copy from Ramaya.

Ramayana didn't care, because there were plenty of ordinary people in this land who could be transformed into its own kind. And this evil transformation process continued for thousands of years.

Until the end of the First Age.

Until the war of the Second Age spread to the entire continent of Tamriel.

Finally, one day in the Second Age, the mighty heroes discovered Ramaya's whereabouts and laid a meticulous, swift, and ruthless ambush—the Blood Mother was surrounded and defeated in Windhelm. The weapon of consecration successfully pierced its heart, yet even so, it did not die.

Because it is the source.

Because its bloodline has already spread to every corner of the continent.

The privileges bestowed upon it by the demon god were not merely about growing stronger with the increase in the number of its offspring—it also had another powerful function. That was that, until the last descendant of Ramaya was defeated, the source of this vampire could never be killed or erased.

It will not die.

Therefore, the ancient heroes could only place it within a seal—a portion of Windhelm was severed by the powerful wizards of Ancient Nords and entrusted to a group of monks willing to sacrifice everything for its protection. The heroes of that time harbored an optimistic hope that perhaps one day, all the vampires of Tamriel who shared the same origin as Ramaya would be successfully vanquished by future generations, and the source of this bloodline would be completely lost.

Unfortunately, a momentary belief could not ultimately propel a plan that would last for a thousand years—the vampire hunt was quickly brought to an abrupt end by the wars of the Second Age. And when Tiber Septim emerged, ushering in the Third Age for humanity, this ancient victory was lost in countless books and archives in the new era.

Until this moment, right now.

An unexpected twist of fate destroyed the hard-won achievements of countless heroes. Because by the time Hera discovered this truth, the mother of all vampires had perhaps already been preparing for eight days.

“It’s too late,” the witch concluded. She donned her pointed hat and picked up a spellbook for combat. She knew all too well that this was an era where the power of the Demon Gods could manifest in the world. And with the awakening of Ramaya, a direct descendant of the Demon Gods and the source of the vampires, the power of the Demon Gods of Conflict surged within the city. The struggle between Wuenfis and Joreford shouldn’t have been so intense—no, in hindsight, their conflict should never have occurred. Everything should have stopped the moment the rumors of necromancy against Wuenfis were debunked. Because between the two of them, there was no significant conflict of interest, and more importantly, the one who could decide the final outcome—the lord Ulfric, with his stable rule and ample authority—was not present!
Whether they were court stewards or court wizards, they seemed to hold high positions and wield great power, but in the end, they were merely employees and vassals of the lord. Minor squabbles might not amount to much, but there was really no need for them to make a life-or-death struggle.

after all--

A piece of intelligence was already flashing before her eyes—even though Brunwuff had mediated between the two, they still made some subtle moves in tandem. A private army with ties to the royal palaces was unusually eyeing Dust. And Wynfis had even prepared in advance; his men arrived at Dust's area of ​​activity almost simultaneously with Brunwuff's!
"Daxter."

A name escaped Hera's lips. Even though she knew it wasn't her junior's real name, it still held a profound causal connection with him. And the moment she spoke, she vaguely sensed Wu Chen's elusive and uncertain abode.

He was still wearing his windproof helmet.

He wasn't wearing a normal windproof helmet.

The destiny intertwined with the necromancer's amulet had already been set in motion, and he should have already arrived at the location of Ramaya's seal. Following this connection, Hera immediately detected the isolated space and, to her dismay, found herself forbidden from entering due to her overwhelming power.

A certain insurance policy, a certain filter.

It wasn't really a big deal for her; she could spot several flaws and gaps at a glance. She could easily bypass the filtering mechanism or even adjust the seal's operating logic. However, without exception, all of those operations required considerable preparation time.

That's too late.

It wasn't that Dust was in trouble, but rather that the other side was too late. Windhelm had now become a scorching cauldron under the watchful eyes of the demon god. Even with a thick layer of oil on top to suppress it, the hidden undercurrents were already churning violently.

So—take a step forward.

The side hall where the court wizards were located was soon reached, where Wuenfis and his group of apprentices were gathered, preparing to put a certain ritual into operation—he turned his head away in confusion and displeasure the moment Hera appeared, because a violent wind was flowing, and trespassing on someone else's territory was always a very unfriendly act.

"Hera, what are you doing here?"

"I will take over the guardian rituals of Windhelm, the magic circulation system."

"That's impossible!" The old mage's beard bristled. Hera's words essentially meant that he had to hand over all the power he held.

However, the witch simply nodded slightly.

“Yes, I know,” she said. “That’s why I’m in a hurry. I’ll give you three seconds to prepare. I’ll make my move.”

Her voice was flat.

Her resolve was firm.

Anger flashed in Wu Enfis's eyes, and a series of magical structures flickered around him. The apprentices surrounding him also turned their heads in unison, and their shared magical power, propelled by the apprenticeship ritual, converged into the old mage's hands!

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

The voices of questioning and casting spells are about to emerge.

Then, Hera raised a finger.

The apprentice collapsed to the ground, and the old mage slumped in his seat. Even as opponents, they had no idea what Hera had just done. The next moment, the Wind Helmet ritual authority within the old mage materialized and shot precisely into Hera's hand!
(End of this chapter)