Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1372 You're even more terrifying than we predicted

"A Second Step Demigod... truthfully, I anticipated a fiercer battle."

Orion gazed at his bare hands, curling and uncurling his fingers.

Only after the dust cleared did the full weight of his advancement sink in. He had ascended to a strength that shattered all reason. If a second-stage demigod crumbled so easily under his grip, how would the third stage fare?

Amid that quiet moment, Orion's drive evolved. He no longer fixated on the immediate challenge but lifted his eyes to the peak ahead.

What chaos would erupt if I brought down even a fragment of my true divine form? he pondered. What devastation could that trigger?

The event that had just demolished his foe wasn't a full manifestation. It was simply an echo from his Divine Kingdom—a mere outline of his might. Even so, that faint echo had sufficed to erase a second-stage demigod, reducing them to dust.

A pressure built in Orion's chest, an abrupt wave of reverence for the power that transcended demigods.

"The Commander was correct. You're far more frightening than we imagined."

Deputy Commander Edward emerged from a shattered spatial rift, the echoes of the foe's array fading away behind him. He approached Orion, his stare sharp and unwavering.

As per the schedule, their individual clashes had concluded simultaneously. The contrast was glaring, though. Orion had wiped out a [Second Step] titan. Edward had only handled a [First Step] adversary.

A chill of dread washed over Edward at the thought of facing Orion himself—the fight would end in an instant. Gazing at the younger warrior, the Deputy Commander experienced a sharp sting of his own shortcomings.

Does all our rigorous training, those endless cycles of struggle and sacrifice, amount to so little?

For the first time, uncertainty wormed into Edward's thoughts. Yet as a battle-hardened soldier, he stamped it out swiftly before it could spread.

Hulk stands as an exception, Edward told himself. He's forging a trail unseen across any realm.

Edward's resolve remained unbreakable. He cast aside the irritation and straightened his posture.

"I believe your display today would render the other leaders mere novices," Edward remarked, his words carrying sincere respect. "You're operating on an entirely different plane."

Orion flashed a wide smile, relishing the commendation from the typically reserved leader. "Watch yourself, Deputy Commander. That comes across as quite the flattery."

"If you're owning up to it, then yes, take it as such."

Orion let out a hearty chuckle. "Point taken."

Wasting no further time, Orion positioned himself next to the Deputy Commander. They advanced to the following area, systematically pursuing the leftover intruders.

Eldoria, The City of Grimm

Up high in the Windmill Keep, Aina huddled in the castle gardens, her focus locked on a delicate shoot emerging from the blood-red earth.

It bore just two small leaves, quivering in the soft wind. To outsiders, it seemed one puff of air could shatter it. Aina understood otherwise. She had just crushed it under her boot with all her force, yet it hadn't yielded an inch.

"I'm so sorry, baby. Mommy didn't intend to harm you," she murmured, her tone overflowing with tenderness. "Mommy simply needed to confirm you truly emerged from the Curse Seed."

She brushed the space over the foliage. "Pardon me, little one. Mommy's fetching you something tasty immediately."

She exuded a soft, nurturing glow. The sight was strikingly odd—this fragile woman was the creator of [Hellscream], recognized globally as a sacred saintess.

Aina hoisted a pail of boiling, fresh blood and emptied it straight into the ground. As the fluid seeped down, the shoot's hue shifted from faint pink to a swollen, deep crimson. It expanded right before her eyes, absorbing the nourishment hungrily.

Aina's face lit up with a serene, chilling grin.

"Saintess," a voice summoned from the entrance. "We've received reports from beyond the storm."

Moments later, as Aina entered the council room, the caring parent vanished. Instead, an embodiment of frost and command appeared, her features half-hidden by a crimson veil.

"Report," Aina demanded, her tone flat and detached.

"The settlement of Astravale has vanished into the storm. All communications have ceased. It's caught the eye of the local authorities," the scout relayed, bowed low. "Probes from all sides are attempting to breach the storm barrier to uncover the events within."

Aina was already aware. The 'nourishment' she had provided the cursed tree moments ago stemmed from those exact probes.

"Whispers circulate in the Holy City," the scout went on, his speech quaking a bit. "They claim a potent blasphemy has sprouted here. The Holy Order is stirring the masses. They're mobilizing for a Crusade."

A Crusade. A flowery term for extermination. In truth, it meant the Holy Order harnessing the nobles' personal forces to justify widespread pillaging.

"Can you vouch for your source?" Aina inquired.

The looming threat from the Holy Order left her unmoved. She fixed her unyielding gaze on the bowed attendant. This individual was a thrall, his thoughts bound by a relic from the Survivor's Platform. He belonged to Hellscream, among the deeply altered ranks. Still, despite total dominion, Aina's suspicion never rested. She questioned all, not due to faulty information, but as her inherent trait.

"I would never conceal the facts," the man stuttered, gripped by fear. He grasped her true essence. She wasn't a saintess; she was a deranged soul more warped than any in their midst. "The details originate from a key operative, and I cross-checked them through my channels."

"Let them advance," Aina declared, a vicious smirk playing on her mouth. "Grimm requires forced workers. The greater their numbers, the quicker our progress."

Backed by a demigod such as Orion, [Hellscream] had shed its early vulnerability. Orion had bolstered Grimm's protective barriers and funneled assets into the [Eye of the Storm], steadily widening its scope. Above all, he had infused the tempest gales with a targeted, weakening affliction. Lacking the remedy concocted in Grimm, intruders entering the Eye of the Storm would see their vitality drain away in moments.

Surrounded by these defenses, Aina deemed it secure to remain in the Windmill Keep and amass her strength.

"Spread a fresh tale," Aina instructed. "Claim Grimm overlooks the remnants of an Ancient Dragon's den. Assert there are untouched dragon eggs stored in the depths."

She halted, allowing the notion to brew.

"And state that the Eye of the Storm arises from the Ancient Dragon's residual sorcery."

Tales of riches served as the perfect lure. They would draw in eager explorers and avaricious lords alike. Aina planned to chain the mighty for city construction and shatter the frail to act as informants.

Titanion Realm, Stoneheart City

Word of the cross-realm conflict rippled outward, igniting widespread alarm. Groups mobilized frantically, while ordinary folk cowered from the approaching turmoil.

However, Stoneheart City showed no trace of that alarm.

On the contrary, the metropolis buzzed with unprecedented vitality. The Stoneheart Horde maintained strict order. During daylight, avenues jammed with trade convoys and vendors, merchandise surging like an endless stream. After dark, the urban expanse morphed into a glowing haven of indulgence and extravagance.

Enigmatic silhouettes wove through the thronged streets—youthful elites from diverse lineages, newly arrived, eager to lavish their wealth on hidden desires.

As the enchanted lights ignited along the horizon, Lilith pushed her documents aside. She traversed the extended, hushed hallways to the royal quarters where Orion rested.

He didn't stir at once. Lilith perched on the bed's side, observing him quietly. It was only as her aura filled the space that Orion's eyelids gradually parted.