Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 9: Not a Monster
It feels so good not to be a monster.

Although the smells around here are a bit nauseating and disgusting, as long as you try to adapt, you can always bear it.

Wu Chen put away the mask.

There was no need for a friend to lie to him. If it said there was no pollution, then there really was no pollution. And after donning this silver-gray dragon priest mask, he must have been supported by immense power and knowledge, thus possessing a decisiveness and composure not possessed by ordinary people.

Damn, I really hope this mask, which brings with it a sense of spiritual concentration, doesn't cause me to lose any important memories. Wu Chen had no desire to become some savior, and he had no interest in buying thirty Gauss rifles or anything like that.

as well as……

He exhaled silently.

Maybe one day, sooner or later, I will really become the same as I look when I wear the mask.

But before that, I can still enjoy this old mortal heart.

——After all, a blacksmith must be strong himself.

——Without the gun and mask, I am just a noob who cannot be more noob.

Wu Chen shook his head and stood up. The armor covering his entire body seemed a bit heavy at this moment. But he still put on the horn helmet on his head, completing a comprehensive self-protection.

A ball of flame burst out from his hand.

Even with gloves on, it still flowed out of my hands. It didn't burn the gloves themselves, but I could feel a certain temperature rise.

Strange power.

If it's lightning, the same goes for frost.

Wu Chen carefully reviewed the magic he could currently use. Without the mask, the magic he could use was limited to three types of jets: fire, frost, and lightning. Their actual power was perhaps only slightly greater than that of a high-pressure fire extinguisher or a high-frequency stun baton.

It's better than nothing, and there's still a lot of room for growth.

After donning the mask, he was able to use Iron Armor, Solid Shield, and three elemental super-strength spells: Fireball, Lightning Chain, and Ice Storm. However, he was unable to obtain any of the other spells more suitable for various situations.

For example, illusion spells that soothe people's hearts and inspire and strengthen their will.

Or a healing spell that heals oneself or others and has special attacks against evil creatures.

And the simplest and most brainless one, summoning annihilation creatures to play summoning spells...

Yes, the Summoning system. Wu Chen remembered that summoning spells included the ability to summon various incorporeal weapons. And in the fourth generation of the Elder Scrolls, there was even a spell that could summon full-body demonic armor, a skill that players couldn't learn. Wouldn't that power be roughly equivalent to the "Purchase" ability he currently possessed?
I have to find an opportunity to learn them - Wu Chen thought.

Random thoughts were a helpful distraction. He was thinking about how to become stronger—according to the game, as long as you practiced a skill a lot, you would naturally increase your level through proficiency and thus gain stat boosts. However, right now, there probably wasn't such a convenient system for him to use.

but……

——How did the dragon priests in ancient times become so powerful?

Wu Chen tilted his head. Finally, he fixed his gaze on the silver-gray mask. Ultimately, it was his greatest asset right now. He couldn't just reject it for some ridiculous psychological reason and put himself in danger.

He put the mask on.

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

Lazard saw Dust again.

When the Khajiit saw the Breton again, the half-clad prisoner, still shrouded in the lingering aura of blood, wore a suit of ill-fitting, yet high-quality iron armor, clearly unsuitable for a rookie bandit. Considering the sudden explosion, the muffled screams, and the long, half-hour-long silence that followed, a surprising thought entered the Khajiit's mind.

"Hah... the smell of blood." The tiger man stood up from the cage and looked at the stranger he had only met briefly. "You killed a lot of people?"

"We killed quite a few," the man who called himself Dust nodded and threw a bloody key into the cage. This simple action immediately made the other prisoners in the cage breathe faster and hope glimmer in their eyes.

"I don't know which key is yours. You'd better find it yourself."

"Lazard will repay you, my friend."

"If you want to thank me, open the cage and come find me on the top floor of the tower. Open the other cages as well, and you can help them settle them."

Duster is not a bandit.

He didn't look like he wanted to inherit the tower and continue being a bandit.

From the surrounding cages, small cheers and sobs erupted, along with jumbled cries of excitement and gratitude. "Ah, Lazard will do it." The tiger man narrowed his eyes as he watched the Breton who called himself Dust turn and leave. He knew the name was probably a pseudonym. And judging by the Breton's actions and tone, he could probably guess why he used it.

Dust doesn't seem to like interacting with people very much.

In other words, he is not very good at dealing with other people.

As he spoke, his gaze was fixed solely on Lazard. Although there was still a hint of arrogance in his eyes, there was no contempt or disdain.

You know, in Skyrim, Khajiit have always been the least welcome tribe. Even the less human-looking Argonians are allowed to settle in many of Skyrim's major cities. But large groups of Khajiit caravans are often only allowed to camp outside the main cities, or live in the wilderness or the countryside.

Only scholars who rarely interact with people will behave like this.

If they were not scholars, then they were wizards - even though Lazard had rarely seen wizards without robes, everyone knew that these spellcasters, who were not very popular in Skyrim but were still relied upon by many high-ranking officials, had more or less some strange tempers.

He should be a wilderness wizard traveling for the first time.

And his guardian may be hiding nearby.

That's how it should be.

The tiger man quickly found his key. He opened the cage and released the other prisoners. He spent several minutes comforting the panicked people. Some wanted to leave immediately, while others looked at him with pity, hoping that he would take care of them.

"Lazard is a merchant, and all his goods are here." The Khajiit breathed a sigh of relief. "If that gentleman would show mercy and allow Lazard to take his looted goods, then Lazard's caravan would need some guards."

Caravans always go to big cities.

And if you can go to a big city, you can return to your hometown.

well.

Everyone now had a core and a purpose. For Lazard, coordinating and managing these headless individuals was as easy as drinking water and eating. After quietly suppressing a few troublemakers and establishing a simple structure, he assigned tasks to the prisoners and cautiously made his way to the top of the tower.

He saw the shattered remains scattered on the ground.

I saw sticky blood flowing down the stairs, and there were signs of explosions and ablation everywhere.

His suspicions were further confirmed, and he was now convinced that Daxter was indeed a sorcerer living in seclusion in the wilderness, or perhaps a sorcerer's apprentice with a hidden guardian. The truth didn't matter, because power was power.

He saw Danstor in the bandit leader's room at the top of the tower. The Breton was casually reading a copy of "The Legend of Hoggard", which was said to contain techniques for donning heavy armor. When the Khajiit walked through the door, his black eyes looked at him.

"You look like you want to talk business with me." The Brighton man's negotiation skills are terrible.

But his fists are huge.

"Lazard wants to take his own cargo."

"random."

"Lazard can help you monetize your spoils."

"can."

"Lazard can help you find the bandit's treasure." The tiger man walked to the fire in the chief's room. The fuel inside was still burning slowly. He reached out and pulled from the depths of the fire, sparks flying. A sturdy blackened iron box was dragged from the depths of the fire to the ground.

Tiger people are natural thieves and are best at finding treasure. This is one of the reasons why they are not welcome in the main city. Because they always find treasure on others.

And the Brighton people's attention was really focused on him.

"what do you want?"

"Lazard needs a strong protector to reach Windhelm with his cargo. Lazard is begging for help from his friends."

It's not a transaction, but a help between friends.

It seems that he expects a long-term investment rather than a simple exchange of interests.

"I can take you to Windhelm," the Breton replied slowly, "but before that, I have some personal business to attend to."

"I've heard there's an ancient standing stone near here. Do you know where it is?"

(End of this chapter)