Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 286 - How could we forget the dragon?
Its name is self-evident.

It was the ancient Riverlands king, consumed by dragonfire and absorbed into the tower. And in Westeros, every acknowledged king possesses extraordinary powers.

The blood of the king is an important material for spellcasting.

And the blood and soul of an entire king could naturally become the core structure of a timeless curse.

Wu Chen stretched out his palm—his movement was exactly the same as every time he had performed a 'miracle' before.

“Helen Hall.” Wu Chen uttered the name of the dead king, controlling it with his will. “Your era has long since come to an end.”

The outstretched hand clenched into a fist. But this was actually just a simple mobilization of immense willpower to crush.

"Sleep now," he said.

The fiery figure before him paused slightly in surprise, and the next moment, the dragon fire that constituted its entire body began to disintegrate. There was no technique involved; it was simply a matter of overwhelming the insufficient with sheer volume. And the moment the curse structure collapsed, the king, who had died hundreds of years ago, revealed a look of relief.

The demonic fire no longer burned him indefinitely, and his sentence, which was almost equal in length and quality to that of the Demon Mountain, finally came to an end at this moment.

His soul stirred, and the last warmth restored him to his youthful appearance. A golden crown adorned his head, and his beard and hair were black. The king's gaze swept over the entire River Valley, a land no longer as prosperous as it once was.

"What have I done..." His voice was filled with regret and remorse. No one knew his true thoughts at that moment. Perhaps he regretted his tyrannical rule, hoarding the resources of the entire Riverlands to build a castle. Perhaps he shouldn't have resisted so stubbornly, refusing to surrender even when the dragon soared through the sky. Perhaps...

Perhaps it doesn't matter what it is.

Because he only knelt down at Wu Chen's feet amidst this sufficient remorse and the relief that accompanied it.

"God, please accept my repentance. Let my soul be bathed in your glory."

He surrendered his faith.

His soul faded amidst the crumbling curse—Wu Chen narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at the spot where the soul had vanished. A faint link of faith appeared in his senses.

“I am not a god,” Wu Chen emphasized again.

Even so, he could still sense that distant place, connected to the king's faith, a place where countless souls dwelled—perhaps the collective unconscious Hera was studying, Alaya, the sea of ​​souls. And a wisp of willpower was quietly projected from his will, falling upon the king's soul.

There was no feedback, no sudden alarm.

It seems that Hera's research has not yet reached the areas that Wu Chen has touched upon.

He then lowered his hand and waved it forward. The next moment, the earth's veins, which had subtly resonated with him due to the king's conversion, responded to him.

He saw the memories of the earth, the scene of the city being burned by the dragon hundreds of years ago. And Harrenhal's appearance before its destruction was also revealed to him.

—Fossils are made of mud.

— Turning mud into stone.

The city-scale magic thus commenced, powered by willpower, its blueprints derived from the memories of the earth's ley lines. Wu Chen, as the executor, essentially only served to establish the magical circuits and press the button. Even so, the blackened, dilapidated castle was transformed and rebuilt under the Holy Abode spell. It regained its grandeur and solemnity, its imposing majesty reappearing.

When the white walls and earth replaced the previous blackened and scorched landscape, every inch of the castle radiated a pure light!

"The Sacred Tree Forest... the Heart Tree in the Sacred Tree Forest has been restored!" someone screamed. He saw the twenty-acre Sacred Tree Forest within the castle grounds become smooth and robust again, emitting a faint light. And in the forest, a particularly thick Heart Tree, which had been cursed by a Targaryen prince and displayed a hideous human face, had also returned to its peaceful and gentle state.

A kind of invisible vitality and energy bursts forth on this land.

As birds chirped, the many bats and birds that had been perched atop the tower fled in disarray.

“Joan of Arc,” Wu Chen said to his holy maiden, “I am entrusting this castle to you. You are free to decide how to use it. Also, remember to give it a new name.”

He said he walked towards the pure white tower at the very center. Not walking on the ground, but stepping directly on the air that had materialized under the power of his will, he ascended to the heavens. And at the top of that tower was his newly built bedroom.

The holy maiden bowed deeply behind him, her voice loud and clear.

“Your will, my lord,” she said, the flag in her hand fluttering in the wind.

Only after Wu Chen's figure disappeared at the very top of the tower did the devout believers, whose fanaticism was barely discernible, dare to speak, preach, and pray. They spread the glory of God from this castle in all directions.

And this is the obvious situation.

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

Wu Chen glanced at his palm; the manipulation of willpower had left some damage on his limbs. After all, interaction is a universal truth that applies to many worlds. Since he had broken the curse with brute force, it was only natural that he would be injured by that force.

Not much, not serious. It will heal quickly. But an injury is an injury, and it needs recuperation. And he can take this opportunity to get some things done as well.

Because the earth's veins still connect him.

This connection, however, will not last long. After all, the legal basis for King Harren's rule over this land, to whom he had entrusted his faith, was severed many years ago.

and so……

Wu Chen stretched out his hand, and the dissipated demonic dragon fire appeared in his palm. Although the curse had collapsed, its power would not disappear. And such a precious alchemical material naturally needed to be used in a suitable place.

He lay down on the bed, clutching the blazing fire, and closed his eyes. The connection to the ley lines would then be able to transmit sufficiently clear information to him. And he would try to find a target that met his needs within this information.

He didn't wait more than a few seconds.

A faint dream then descended, and the records within the ley lines appeared to his senses. He saw the struggles and slaughter, the rise and fall of this land. One king and lord after another came and went. But more important than all this was the battle between the dragons.

He witnessed the Targaryen family's internal strife, and the decline of the dynasty known as the Dance of the Dragons. He saw two colossal dragons, one black and one red, tearing at each other on Lake God's Eye outside Harrenhal, until they both fell into the lake.

He saw a dragon that had once landed in the lake.

(End of this chapter)