Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1380 Chrysalis and Coin
Previously on Titan King: Ascension of the Giant...
The ancient cocoon, fossilized over countless ages, stirred at the touch of the hybrid blood. It started to move. The rock turned pliable like living tissue, and the old casing drew shut, trapping the boy inside.
A moist, conclusive squish echoed as the cocoon fully enclosed itself, burying the boy deep within.
Kar'Sheen's multifaceted eyes shone with wild eagerness as he observed the change.
"Sleep soundly, Eryndor," the Insectoid Lord rasped, his tone buzzing with excitement. "Upon your awakening, our people's legacy shall be forever transformed."
The South, Blood Elf Territory
In the elves' homeland, the land itself appeared to pulse with life.
The vista unfolding before Tristan Greymount struck him as breathtakingly stunning. Words like "lush and verdant" fell short. Rays of sun pierced the towering leaves above, speckling the tender turf and bathing the blooming flowers in hues that turned the world into a masterpiece.
Yet the view faded in comparison when sunlight danced on the hair of the servant girl mounted next to him.
"Young Master, I beg you," Adelina whispered, fidgeting in her seat. "Your gaze is unsettling me. And... with so many folks nearby."
Her glance mixed irritation with a hint of fragility.
Tristan had dressed her in rugged mercenary attire for the trip. The snug leather outfit accentuated her figure, revealing shapes often concealed by simple maid's clothing. However, it felt suffocating. Even worse, it attracted stares from every burly traveler along the path. Adelina sensed herself as bait, paraded for all to see.
"Adelina, embrace your allure as if it were a shield," Tristan replied, his tone casual and unconcerned. "Let their eyes wander. A look won't steal away your essence. If nothing else, their jealousy proves your true radiance."
Adelina let out a breath but held her tongue. Her faith in him ran deep.
Today, the Greymount clan flourished thanks to Tristan's uncanny knack for dodging ruin and seizing gains.
Long before, as a mere boy, Tristan had urged his father to redirect their trade toward the Stoneheart Horde. They became pioneers among humans in dealing with the beasts, and the earliest to claim land in Stoneheart City.
Others branded them insane at the time.
Then the Giant King rose to Arch Lord, and the Greymounts' standing soared. When Orion claimed Demigod status? They seemed like seers.
Holding land in a Demigod-guarded city amid a war between realms offered unbeatable security. Now, as chaos spread over the land, the Greymounts wisely sold off their holdings in the Human Kingdoms and relocated fully to Stoneheart City.
Tristan and Adelina formed the trailing escort, the final group in the exodus.
Through sheer luck—or maybe destiny—the Greymounts engaged the Blood and Fire Mercenary Corps for safeguarding. This was the same outfit commanded by Godfrey, the knight now trailing the huge procession of Princess Ava and Prince Kronos.
"Young Master, stay on guard," Adelina said softly, edging nearer. "I sense it. Those other aristocrats... their motives are shady."
Beyond the leering glances thrown her way, it was the covetous, scheming stares from fellow human migrants aimed at Tristan. Everyone knew the Greymounts owned valuable plots in secure Stoneheart City. In crumbling times, a deed outshone any treasure.
"Ease your mind, Adelina," Tristan answered, offering a relaxed grin while shaking his head.
Did she believe he was blind to it?
"Take in the surroundings," he urged, gesturing broadly to the distant skyline. "Countless souls, all heading to fresh horizons. Isn't it magnificent? We're advancing as one."
A bold, easy assurance lit his eyes, drawing Adelina in like a spell. To him, catastrophe meant fresh chances.
"Oh, Young Master," she sighed, her worries dissolving in his magnetic pull.
The steady beat of horse steps followed them, signaling the Blood and Fire Mercenary Corps' vigilance.
"Godfrey," a gravelly voice boomed. "A few of these pests are growing cheeky. Want me to crush them?"
Brundar, the hulking Giant astride a feral-blooded steed, scowled at the aristocrats ogling his charge. He missed nothing—the desire fixed on the servant, nor the greed aimed at the Young Master.
"Stand down," Godfrey replied evenly. "They lack the spine."
Godfrey understood his companion perfectly. Unleashing Brundar would turn "crushing" into tearing arms from bodies.
"Princess Ava and the Prince head the front lines," Godfrey clarified. "With Raptor Cavalry and Rose Knights securing the flanks, nobody dares spark chaos. Ava would never permit it."
Godfrey had joined his band to this vast migrant throng deliberately. Shielding these myriad humans en route to the Stoneheart Horde served the Tribe's interests. It showed shrewd politics.
"Plus," Godfrey noted, "we guard the rear for good cause. We're the backup."
Brundar rumbled in agreement, his eyes shifting to Tristan, who sat straight-backed before them.
"That youngster... he's intriguing," Brundar pondered, a grin creeping onto his face. "He even quizzed me on the Silent Goblet just now. Offhand, as if chatting about rain."
"Tsk, tsk." The Giant laughed. "Seems bookish, behaves like a rake. Is this the style of human nobility these days?"
"Next to our lads from home, he's tame," Brundar went on. "They grapple with Abyss Dragons or stalk Flame-Tigers. Or at minimum, they bash heads in the Colosseum."
"He's no noble," Godfrey murmured in correction.
"No noble?" Brundar stared, puzzled.
He eyed Tristan once more. The lavish attire. The haughtiness. The alluring servant. The dedicated guards.
"He reeks of nobility. Lavishes like one too," Brundar muttered. "What's the catch?"
"See beyond him," Godfrey instructed, tilting his head to the column's lead. "Spot that wagon lagging after the Princess? The battered one, scarred and filthy?"