Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 275 - Finally Able to Wear Clothes and Armor
Winterfell was larger than Wu Chen had anticipated. It was an ancient and imposing castle—when Wu Chen and the members of the Knights of the Old Gods rode their dire wolves into it, he witnessed a vastness unlike anything seen in movies or television shows.

This fortress is large enough to hold tens of thousands of troops. However, managing food supplies and sanitation is proving somewhat difficult.

The castle doors closed behind them.

Wu Chen's gaze swept over Jon Snow at the forefront of the knights—he was confident, he had complete faith in his brothers. He didn't believe his younger brother would dare to ambush or betray him, even though his actions were tantamount to rebellion.

His trust did not betray him.

Because soon, his brother and his adoptive mother, who hadn't particularly liked him in the past, appeared before him. And as if it were all perfectly natural, they gave him a warm hug.

There were only hugs, nothing else. The bad news from King's Landing had not yet arrived.

Wu Chen remained where he was, his gaze sweeping over the close-knit family members—he was actually prepared to intervene. But in the end, Hera's judgment proved to be correct.

His power is not needed here.

There was no hostility or fighting among the Stark bloodline. He had intended to leave a safeguard, but before taking action, he realized it was unnecessary.

“This is not something a guest should do,” he said, his voice known only to himself, or perhaps to some witch who had vanished somewhere. “This is his lair, his home. If he runs into trouble here, that is the price he must pay.”

He then left.

Because a monarch must grow and mature on his own.

If even this small matter requires the intervention of an outsider like him, then he might as well become king himself. But right now, he has no intention of becoming king.

—All I need to do is become a king.

He recalled the Holy Kingdom and the regency he had received. Back then, he was too proud, too willful. He hadn't experienced failure or hardship. So much so that he dared to recklessly take on any responsibility.

He bore the responsibility for it, but he had no regrets whatsoever. Since it was a story he had started, he naturally had to put the final punctuation mark on it himself.

—I need to find my phone, and then, before returning to the Holy Kingdom, I need to bring with me ample strength.

He remembered what he had done when he left, and he knew that when the Great Tomb reappeared before him, it would have mustered its courage and determination, showing no mercy or hesitation whatsoever. And at that time, all he had to do was strike it down swiftly and decisively.

That would require considerable strength.

And this, of course, requires personal effort and even sacrifice.

--arrive.

The steps stopped.

A quiet, dimly lit building came into view.

The name of the building was not too surprising to him—what came into view was the ancestral shrine of the Stark family.

It is said that the Stark family tombs are adorned with stone sculptures as a form of suppression. This may simply be a common custom in the local area. However, in discussions of the original work, many believe that members of the Stark family, after death, gradually develop a kind of mysterious power.

This conjecture is very likely the truth.

Wu Chen then moved forward, venturing into the center of the shrine—the eternal candles on either side of the hall burned silently, while a chill surrounded the square stone coffins. In this northern kingdom, already known for its low temperatures, the temperature here was abnormally low. Something was hidden here.

Power flows within the foundation stones of the mausoleum.

Wu Chen could clearly sense them, just as he could sense the magical vortexes flowing within the foundation stones of Winterfell. And soon, he locked onto his target.

The pointer in his hand pointed to an ancient stone coffin. He measured as he approached.

The total amount of magic power he possesses is very little. Currently, it's not even enough to cast a single fireball. Of course, this doesn't take elemental crystals into account, and if the spell were replaced with Lightfire, then what he could achieve would be quite substantial.

——Minor Armor.

An invisible yet tangible membrane appeared on Wu Chen's body. This protective spell, which should have been a pale green, now emitted a faint white light—at the moment of casting the spell, Wu Chen's inspiration suddenly found its direction. He decided to combine the structure of the Lesser Armor spell and the Light's Protection spell to a certain extent, and the final result was as seen before him.

The thin membrane on Wu Chen's body thus acquired a divine light. Even if it was faint, it was a power that he could control, and it was especially effective against undead and evil spirits.

“Right here,” he said.

The stone coffin before him opened as he pushed it open. A chilling aura emanated from within the coffin as it opened. But before it could touch Wu Chen's form, it dissolved into the radiance of the shield spell.

Its efficacy is even greater than that of mosquitoes.

After all, if it were truly a mosquito, it could indeed have bitten a sizable welt on Wu Chen's body—when he pushed open the stone coffin, a withered and shriveled corpse came into Wu Chen's view. And a set of objects that did not belong to this world were comfortably draped over the corpse.

Those are robes, apprentice robes.

It was personally enchanted and modified by Hera Morrie. As it traversed the world, it randomly chose its landing point. Not only did it appear out of thin air in a sealed sarcophagus, but it was even neatly draped by local corpses.

They were very effective on him.

But now, something more suitable can be prioritized.

Wu Chen's gaze then fell, passing over the corpse draped in a robe, and looking towards a more secluded corner. There, a beautifully decorated longsword lay quietly beside the body.

The Dragon Fang Sword, made from the teeth of a golden dragon. It serves as both a medium for Wu Chen's spellcasting and a weapon, proving invaluable in local conflicts.

Wu Chen gripped the sword in his hand.

The moment he grasped it, he sensed its intense light. It was indeed his sword, and his sword fully acknowledged him. As he reclaimed this legacy, he also sensed an expansion of power.

A faint flame of the soul suddenly ignited.

If before it was a bottle cap, now it's a bottle in size. In terms of reserves alone, Wu Chen has become a magic apprentice again. And the spells he couldn't cast before, he can now use.

However, there are other important things that need to be taken care of right now.

Wu Chen's fingers twitched slightly.

The next moment, the corpse lying in the half-open stone coffin suddenly sat up. Its eyes emitted a ghostly blue light unique to the undead creatures of the North!
(End of this chapter)