Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 179 For Whom the Bell Tolls?

A group of vigilant guards.

Duster mentioned one of them, who had indeed been working to expel the demons—theoretically, if there was a hidden cult of demon worship secretly pushing for the demons' descent, then this group should have been the first to notice the early signs of the demons' arrival.

...The timing is wrong.

The loss of control over Ramaya's seal must have occurred within the last eight days. If the hidden high-ranking vampire is related to Ramaya, then the vigilante that Dust met should not have known this information. And this can only point to one truth.

Either she was mistaken, and Ramaya broke free earlier than expected. Or...

—There is another force hiding here.

—If you're unlucky, you might get more than one.

In the best-case scenario, a high-ranking vampire unrelated to Ramaya might reside in Windhelm, its movements inadvertently exposed to the watchful eyes of the vigilantes. But if luck is on your side…

Hera Morrie lowered her eyes slightly. As far as she knew, in Skyrim, the oldest, most powerful, and wealthiest vampire Grand Lord clan still had one last branch.

Walchiha.

It is said to be a vampire royal court hidden deep within the Sea of ​​Ghosts, on a secluded island. Divination and prophecy cannot glean any information about it. However, it is certain that within that royal court reside several pure-blood lords, the strongest of whom may be comparable to Ramaya at her peak.

"I understand." With a quick thought, Hera accepted the intelligence. She gave the chief steward one last look, confirming that the corruption within him had been detected and suppressed by his own reason. Therefore, even if he were allowed to act freely, the possibility of him going mad was not very high.

She nodded and took a step forward. The witch's figure materialized once more, appearing out of thin air atop the Kings' Palace—her gaze quickly caught sight of the last man, Captain Brunwuff. This high-ranking warrior, who had sustained a minor injury from a close-quarters attack earlier, was now inside the Windhelm City barracks, protected by the assembled Windhelm City Guard.

The toes touch the ground during the next movement.

At that moment, she clearly sensed the ominous atmosphere permeating the air, the invisible oppression, and the intangible sting. The souls of the living were thus subtly provoked, and feelings of discontent and anger silently crept into every once honest and law-abiding city resident.

The power of the demon god is descending.

It has shifted from prioritizing interference with key decision-makers to indiscriminately influencing every vulnerable living being.

The conflict first broke out in the market district of Windhelm. Even without Hera looking, she could hear the commotion coming from there—people were lying on the ground, stalls were overturned, shops were smashed and looted, and people were screaming as they were struck by sticks or portable knives, now lying on the ground howling in pain.

The conflict was spreading, and the chaos was expanding. The city guards, who should have stood up to maintain order, had instead become the source of the chaos. They hadn't fallen into depravity or corruption; they were simply more impulsive than before, making hasty decisions and drawing their sharp swords.

It's still pushing and driving away now, but it will soon turn into suppression, or even massacre.

So……

Hera stepped into the barracks, using all her spare computing power to break the spell barrier and teleportation prohibition ritual of the Windhelm barracks area. The moment she arrived at the barracks gate, the guards, who were ten times more vigilant and impatient than before, spotted her. Even though they saw her high-ranking wizard attire, these guards, who were exceptionally dedicated to their duties at this moment, still kept their hands on their slightly drawn weapons.

"Get out of my way! Witch, this is not a place you can come near!"

As they made a sound, they lost all muscle strength and collapsed—Hera had used the same method on Joreford, so she would repeat the same operation in a different area. In her path, hundreds of elite warriors fell instantly.

'Clang—' An archer fired an arrow at her. But Qina was beside her the instant the arrow left the bowstring. With a swift swing of her sword, she intercepted several arrows in an instant, even deflecting them back to their original owners.

They let out muffled groans—the arrows that bounced back struck areas protected by armor. Hera had been doing everything she could to prevent bloodshed within Windhelm from the very beginning. The archers who had fired the stray arrows simply collapsed, bearing heavy bruises, their cries of pain still carrying a strong weight.

"Stop!" a voice rang out.

It emanated from the depths of the barracks, majestic and composed, like the deep roar of a battle-hardened lion. The fallen archers and the soldiers who had formed a defensive line before Hera were all affected—their anger was suppressed, their bloodlust was quelled, and they sheathed their weapons, parted to make way for the source of the sound. Brunwuff stepped forward.

He was a seasoned veteran who had fought on numerous battlefields, and all his honors were earned through his own hard work and battles. Even without armor, the old scars extending from his collar and cuffs were still authoritative badges of honor for his achievements.

“Hera Morley.” He recognized Hera. Not long ago, when Wuenfis and Joreford mediated between the two sides, Hera was invited to join the peace meeting as a witness, and at that time, he personally witnessed her wisdom and power.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Your sword represents the power you possess."

"can."

The witch raised an eyebrow slightly.

"My lord! Don't trust her!" "She's a witch, she's attacking us!" "My lord, wizards only make things worse, Lord Brunwaugh!"

The soldiers around him shouted in dissatisfaction and made urgent advice, but he simply raised his hand, and all the voices of resistance were suppressed and silenced at the same moment.

He offered Hera the sword he always carried. And when the witch grasped the sword, the authority over the entire defensive array of Windhelm City temporarily fell into her hands.

"I hope you understand what you're doing," the city guard commander said in a deep voice, looking at her.

The witch simply smiled faintly.

Authority was at work. The immense magical power that had accumulated within Windhelm for millennia had transformed into a vast ocean that Hera could directly command. Now, unless Ulfric suddenly teleported in and revoked her unofficial, temporary authority on the spot, the entire city would be subject to her will.

“Lock down the city,” she said.

The gates of Windhelm City resounded with a deep thud, their heavy metal doors moving on their own, slowly but resolutely closing the city's gateway amidst the chaos and screams of the crowds entering and leaving. The next moment, a pale blue aura of chilling light rose from the top of the towering outer walls that encircled the entire city of Windhelm, instantly transforming into a frosty protective shield visible to all.

Neither could they leave nor enter. At this moment, not even mosquitoes or ants could get through the wind-swept city. The entire city was thus isolated from the world, and some outsiders or locals who had been mixed in with the crowd, fanning the flames and trying to intensify the conflict, now showed their panicked faces.

They used cover and tried to escape. However, their attempt was doomed to fail because Hera's second command had already been issued.

“Cleanse the worshippers of Molag Bal.”

The defensive magic array responded to her expectations, unleashing a massive torrent of power. Many commoners and nobles, perhaps high-ranking or well-connected, were suddenly stunned, their bodies melting under the onslaught of the magical tide—all demon worshippers below the highest rank and vampires were utterly annihilated in that instant. Normally, such an order would have been impossible to issue.

The two most dangerous steps have been completed.

Then next——

—It's too late.

Statements, not exclamations, echoed in the witch's heart. And in the next moment—

'clang--'

The resounding chimes echoed throughout the city.

(End of this chapter)