Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1370 Cheap parlor tricks

"Those bastards have the advantage in numbers. They intend to trample us, plain and simple."

The calculation made by the enemy was straightforward: five of their own against four defenders. By utilizing raw numerical superiority, they aimed to violently expel Arthas, Leonidas, and their companions from the site.

However, their equations had failed to account for Orion.

With his recent arrival in the Ashenheart Domain, the scales of power had been balanced. What was once a guaranteed slaughter had been transformed into a fair five-on-five confrontation.

Furthermore, a hidden trump card remained in play. Concealed within the depths of the cavern were two elite sentinels—the "Royal Guard" of this mission. Serving as the final defensive line for the Ever-Burning Volcano, they represented the submerged portion of the iceberg. Their duty was to intercept any opportunistic scavengers attempting a rear-entry, allowing Edward and Arthas to concentrate on the frontal assault without fear of betrayal from behind.

"It is him," the Deputy Commander hissed, his voice heavy with recognition and lingering trauma. "The Second Step Demigod who managed to escape last time. He has returned to finish what he started."

Even before the enemy crested the ridge, the Deputy Commander had detected their oppressive aura.

"Minothelion," Arthas explained, providing context for Orion. "A monstrosity born of hell—possessing the head of a bull and the physique of a lion. He was formerly one of the overlords governing the central crater of the Volcano."

"Assume positions!" the Deputy Commander commanded. "If they are so eager for death, we shall provide it!"

His words were laced with spite. During their previous encounter, his own Demigod Phantom had been brutally mauled by Minothelion, leaving his aura flickering and unstable.

Following his shout, a five-pointed star of arcane radiance manifested beneath his feet. This was the [Hexa-Divine Pentagon]. Although they lacked one anchor point, the collective synergy produced by the five combatants remained formidable.

Arthas, Alexander, Leonidas, and Orion transitioned with synchronized grace, each occupying a point on the star and integrating into the formation’s energy circulation.

"Commander," Orion spoke up as the formation reached stability, stepping toward the front. "Allow me to take the lead in this engagement."

The group wavered. Their Phantom avatars were still in the process of mending from earlier conflicts, and their reserves were nearly depleted. In terms of pure endurance, Orion was the only one operating at peak capacity.

"Hulk," Leonidas remarked, glancing at the massive warrior, "was thrashing the Clown not enough to satisfy your bloodlust?"

"That Clown was merely a First Step Demigod," Orion replied with a shrug. "He was far too fragile. I barely had to exert myself."

This was not a boast, but a clinical assessment of the facts. When Orion had obliterated the Clown, he had manifested an avatar infused by his Phantom—which carried the echoes of [Fourth Step] and [Sixth Step] Divine Might. The encounter had been as lopsided as a sledgehammer striking an eggshell.

The warriors fell silent, looking toward Leonidas for verification of the claim.

Leonidas erupted into a laugh, sounding genuinely relieved. "I neglected to fill you all in while I was recovering," he said with a grin. "Back in the Silverwood Realm of Atlantis, the Clown and the Witch demanded our surrender. While the Witch and 'Squiddy' were locked in a stalemate, the Clown tried to intervene. Orion erased him in a single strike."

He slapped his leg in delight. "It was the most magnificent sight I have witnessed in months."

Leonidas then turned serious as he addressed the team. "Alexander was correct. The Clown had reached the status of a Demigod; his Phantom was formidable. But Orion... his hands are restless. He is eager to test the boundaries of his newfound strength."

All eyes returned to Orion. The air was thick with skepticism.

"Are you certain of this?" Arthas questioned in a low tone.

They recognized that Orion was an outlier. Yet, in the uncompromising hierarchy of Cultivation, a [First Step] challenging a [Second Step] was usually considered a death sentence. It was a confrontation between raw Divine Power and established Divine Fire. The disparity was meant to be unbridgeable.

Their concern wasn't for his bravery, but for the logical impossibility of the feat.

"Do not fret," Orion stated, moving to the primary offensive apex of the formation. "A [Second Step] who fancies himself the [Lord of Hell]? He is delusional."

Arthas, the Deputy Commander, Alexander, and Leonidas exchanged a silent look. Understanding passed between them instantly. They adjusted their stances, redirecting their power entirely toward defense and auxiliary support, forming a solid wall behind Orion.

At that moment, the adversaries emerged from the darkness.

Minothelion marched toward the central crater, flanked by four nightmare-inducing silhouettes.

"Begone!" the creature bellowed. "Vacate the Ashenheart Domain!"

"This is a Realm of the Undead! A tomb for the living! There is no room for outsiders here!"

A colossal beast stepped out from the swirling obsidian fog. He was a ghastly vision—a massive lion's torso supporting a hideous bull's head. Four jagged, asymmetrical horns sprouted from his skull. His eyes glowed with the sickly, pale green flame of the dead.

This was the monster Arthas had described. His spectral gaze cut through the shadows of Hell, fixing directly onto Orion.

Minothelion stared intensely, attempting to bore into Orion’s psyche and project visions of horror and hopelessness into the giant's consciousness.

"Pathetic tricks," Orion sneered.

ROAR!

Orion released a deafening cry that shattered the mental intrusion immediately. The hallucinations dissolved like mist caught in a hurricane.

As the psychic haze cleared, the four figures accompanying the beast leader were revealed. They were Wraiths, though their features were warped and elongated like those of tapirs.

One nostril exhaled thick smoke, while the other spat sparks and fiery vapor. All four were First Step Demigods, evidently belonging to the same corrupted bloodline.

"Who are you?"

Minothelion hesitated. A profound, primal sense of alarm gripped him. As a purebred undead of this Minor Hell, he was highly sensitive to the presence of death. The individual standing before him felt unnatural. Lethal.

"You chatter too much," Orion remarked coldly.

He had no interest in pleasantries or introductions. He saw no room for negotiation. This creature had nearly slain the Deputy Commander and intended to slaughter his allies.

There was only one appropriate conclusion.

"Die."

Orion’s form became a blur.

In a flash, he vanished and reappeared within Minothelion’s immediate reach. The atmosphere detonated as he manifested his true power—the Stoneheart Titan Battle Avatar.

Four heads roared as one. Eight muscular arms, brimming with devastating force, lashed out to strike.