Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 256: There is a kind of beauty that cannot be defined

"Friends! Friends dressed in black! We are the Night's Watch, and we are very interested in the wights you just mentioned!"

Ignore them.

“I recognize the sword you carry. It’s a Stark sword. What should I call you? I also know many lords with the name Stark.”

Never stop moving forward.

“Winter is coming! My lord, winter is coming! I am Jon Snow, the adopted son of Lord Eddard Stark, and I fight for the North and for men! Answer us, my lord!”

Keep going, don't get distracted, and focus on what you need to do right now.

"Help us! There are still a thousand of us in the nearby valley. They are all innocent old people and children. They should not die needlessly while being hunted by the White Walkers!"

Keep moving forward, keep advancing, and whatever you hear, do not change your primary objective.

"...Forgive us, sir, we also have people we want to protect!"

There was the sound of a warbler being strung.

The arrow should have landed on the untrodden path of their journey.

The man drawing the bow was the old Night's Watchman, the Lord Commander who, not long ago, had been resolute to the death. And the moment he raised his hand, he naturally had the resolve to have his arm severed, or even lose his life.

'Pong—' is not the sound of a bow.

It is a forged steel longsword drawn from its sheath once again.

A wind blade, even more ferocious than the previous strike, shot out from the tip of the sword and forward, instantly cleaving a hungry, skinny bear in two with Wu Chen's sword energy.

It let out a painful howl.

It brandished its sharp claws, its eyes gleaming with ferocity.

The instant it assumed an attack stance, Wu Chen's form arrived at its side in a super-fast dash. The organism's operational tendencies and structural flaws were instantly revealed, and in the next instant—

With nothing thick, one enters into space.

'Boom—'

His close-combat skills became increasingly adept, relying on instinct. Multiple strikes overlapped almost simultaneously in the same area. Each blow precisely cleaved the thinnest part of the bear's fur and struck the gaps between the bones. In an instant, large amounts of blood and bone were ripped from the emaciated bear's body.

It fell to the ground, oozing fresh blood and steam.

The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, who had made up his mind and drawn his bow just seconds before, froze in place.

The difficulty of taking down a group of well-trained soldiers in a few seconds may not be much less than cutting up a giant bear weighing several hundred pounds, but the impact of the latter is obviously far greater than the former.

All voices were stuck in their throats, leaving only their warhorses pawing restlessly. Wu Chen then turned and grabbed fallen branches and dead trees from the ground, dragging them to the clearing where the bear carcass had been.

“We have fresh meat again.” Wu Chen turned his head to look at Hera. The previous battle and actions had taken a toll on both of their strength. “But cooked food would be better, wouldn’t it?”

“Cooked food is indeed better.” Hera approached the pyre and casually waved her hand, setting the fire ablaze on it.

It wasn't magic, but simply skill and technique. She could strike two flints at once with perfect precision, and when she was working, she could skin a hungry bear more efficiently than turning the pages of a book.

She moves very quickly.

Wu Chen quickly set up the grill and skewered the meat. He sprinkled some pepper and salt he had collected earlier, and soon a fragrant aroma wafted from the flames.

There is plenty of time.

Neither he nor she paid any attention whatsoever to their followers behind them. It was as if they didn't exist, or even more important than air.

Those who were stunned were finally free from the shock of Wu Chen's martial arts skills.

They exchanged a glance. They dismounted a dozen meters away from Wu Chen and his companion, watching them make their move with bated breath, hoping to find an opportunity to intervene. The two factions, belonging to different groups, had been clearly separated from beginning to end. As a young Night's Watchman mustered his courage and stepped forward, a warhorse carrying a barbarian warrior galloped swiftly toward a certain place in the northeast.

“Greetings, sir.” The young man was unmistakably Jon Snow, though his appearance differed significantly from the television version. His words were carefully chosen, and his movements were cautious.

"Have you seen my uncle, Lord Benjen Stark? He should be using the same sword as you, and he should be accompanied by several Oathbrothers dressed in black, on official business in Ghostwood."

The meat still needs to be roasted.

Cooked food is more nutritious than raw food.

Wu Chen looked at Hera, but Hera neither responded nor answered. Her current strategy was to interfere almost entirely with external affairs, leaving Wu Chen to decide the direction of their next move.

“My lord, please accept these breads and wine.” The young night watchman grasped a key point, and he quickly took the dry rations he carried with him out of his bundle—and placed them respectfully at Wu Chen’s feet, speaking in a more sincere tone than before.

"Please speak, and reveal your thoughts. I am very worried about Lord Benjen Stark..."

There's a reason he was sent here as a speaker. It's because of his position, and also because he genuinely has a very important relative. And by addressing this aspect, it's the least likely to offend others.

Wu Chen suddenly found it somewhat amusing.

He glanced at the food and wine at his feet and let out a long sigh—selfless help offered so readily was met with disdain and skepticism. Being ignored was met with respect, while being treated like a VIP. And within this, there was clearly a truth.

People are just cheap.

They, or even ourselves, are bound to be scoundrels.

So……

The tension that had just eased was tightened again. The scattered thoughts were brought back together.

In Wu Chen's mind, a scale for measuring value was quietly constructed.

"In Westeros, who is the king, and who is the prime minister?" — That's not enough. This food alone is not enough to be a bargaining chip for him to trade intelligence. Even just recently, he had taken this information for free.

“Robert Baratheon is the king, but I don’t know who the Lord Hand is,” the young Night’s Watchman replied quickly. “I only know that the previous Lord Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, died of illness. Lord Eddard Stark is very likely to succeed him as the new Lord Hand of the King.”

The timeline has indeed become clearer, but it's unclear where the power struggle in King's Landing has progressed to.

Wu Chen nodded and accepted the flatbread and wine—his fingertips brushed against the food, sensing no impurity. He then separated the food, handing half to Hera.

"The wight army has crossed Ghostwood," he reported as he continued grilling meat. "And among them are many fresh Night's Watch corpses. A large number, more than fifty. And I have given most of them a resting place."

The young night watchman opened his mouth.

His eyes immediately reddened, and he took two steps back. He wanted to say something more, but choked up. In the end, he could only bow deeply to Wu Chen as he stepped back.

They received the information they were supposed to know.

Some unrest broke out among them, but it was quickly suppressed and mediated by the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

Several warhorses immediately set off, bypassing the campfire where Wuchen and Hera were, and headed swiftly southwards carrying the temporary orders of the Night's Watch Commander-in-Chief. Clearly, it wasn't news of any defensive deployments beneficial to the visitors from beyond the Great Wall. The barbarian cavalry stirred, but ultimately sent no pursuers to intercept them.

This naturally involves complex exchanges of interests and strategic considerations. But now, it means nothing to Wu Chen.

His gaze was no longer drawn to their actions.

He was now solely focused on his primary task—the to-do list that he had long since abandoned was now reappearing before his eyes. And this time, he was certain that there was no demonic force involved.

'Crackling sound—' The raging fire roasted the meat slices, splattering oil droplets.

Wu Chen stretched out his hand, opened his mouth, and the piece he had chosen fell into his mouth.

It has a delicious flavor and is very juicy.

(End of this chapter)