Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1388 I intend to be that beginning

"Second point," Elara went on, her tone firm and unwavering. "I won't serve as your subordinate. Yet, another path exists."

Rhazuun's gaze brightened. The opportunity remained open; it simply required effort to seize.

"As you've observed, magic thrives on this land, yet no unified governing body exists. No school, no alliance, no uniform system," Elara clarified. "I plan to spark that foundation."

This dream had been sown in her thoughts by Orion years before.

Rhazuun grasped it at once. She refused membership; instead, she aimed to lead from the start.

"Your Highness, in what way does this aid the Order of the Dandelion?" Rhazuun inquired. He wasn't naive. Forming a fresh, standalone Magic Association meant forging a rival, not gaining an ally. The warmth in his eyes faded, giving way to the sharp assessment of a bargainer. "Suppose I agree to run this group beneath the 'Order of the Dandelion' emblem?"

Elara's eyes widened briefly, her face pure innocence, though her response set a cunning snare. "Mage, the era shifts. The heavens crumble. This offers the Order a moment to outshine every rival power."

Rhazuun caught the spark of genius in her words. He perceived the underlying promise, yet demanded it committed to paper.

"Explain further, Your Highness."

"Within the Stoneheart Horde lies the Ogre Province," Elara noted, drawing on a familiar governing example. "They pledge loyalty to the Horde. They battle for the Horde. Still, inside their territories, they enjoy self-rule. They govern their own domains."

She inclined toward him. "Does it click for you now?"

Rhazuun inclined his head gradually.

Her vision involved creating a branch operation. She sought to form a partly independent arm of the Order in the Titanion Realm. It would bear the name, but she would control the reins.

"The Order's goal is to spread magic's essence through the realms, correct?" Elara questioned, her voice laced with feigned purity. "If your declaration holds truth, my idea fits your principles exactly. Or... were you deceiving me?"

Her smile emerged—charming yet enigmatic, one that Rhazuun increasingly viewed with dread. It belonged to a player gripping every advantage.

"Your Highness," Rhazuun replied, releasing a held breath he hadn't realized. "I lack the power to approve such a vast extension. I need to confer with the High Council."

"No rush," she responded generously.

"Appreciated. We'll come back with a decision promptly—"

"One month," Elara interjected sharply.

"Pardon?"

"Magic shapes reality to the wielder's desire. It wields immense power, swift execution, and immediate results," Elara stated, her gaze sharpening a touch. "Don't demean the discipline with endless red tape. One month."

At that instant, Rhazuun witnessed it—a real, fervent devotion to mystical arts. She transcended a royal heir; she embodied a devoted sorceress.

He parted his lips to protest, then closed them. With grave respect, he nodded.

"Agreed."

As dusk fell, Elara made her way back to the obsidian fortress. She located Orion upon his seat of power and nestled close by his side.

"Little one, you've outgrown this habit," Orion murmured deeply, yet he didn't shift to dislodge her. "You're a grown lady these days. Decorum calls for some separation. Folks thrive on rumors about the unknown."

His massive palm settled atop her crown, tousling her locks. Elara cooed softly, like a feline claiming the coziest nook by a chilly fireside, lids shut in bliss.

"Father, that's mere chatter," she whispered, pressing into his touch. "Narrow thoughts, base envy, and the mutterings of idle crones with empty lives. Ignore their prattle."

Orion's lips curved upward, silent. He savored the tranquility. Ever since claiming the full Titan lineage, Elara grew more physically affectionate, her warmth pure and unfiltered.

"Father, I wish to..."

"Approved," Orion broke in softly. "Pursue whatever you require. The Stoneheart Horde boasts ample strength. We overflow with brutes. What we lack is a sorcerer's clear reason and insight to even the balance."

Elara's eyes fluttered open, startled that he'd foreseen her request without hearing it out. It reflected total faith. Total indulgence.

"You figured it out already?"

"Mmhmm." Orion dipped his chin, more a gentle rock. "Your mother received the briefing. Concerned for your well-being, she urged me to watch over the situation."

He gave her scalp a final tap before reclining. "Share your scheme. I'll help clear any obstacles."

He wasn't handing out allowances. He pledged national assets—troops, funds, territories, and sway in talks. He stood prepared to fund her Magic Association fully.

Elara brushed a kiss on his face. "The Association proves essential. Yet this continent's arcane lore resembles barren sands. We require a channel from beyond."

She breathed out heavily, her look growing grave. "The Merfolk Kingdoms offered fragments, but their spells center on water. Too specialized. Too limited."

Such was the truth of Utessar Continent. Human realms and Blood Elves guarded their mystical lore like treasures in a wyrm's lair. No scraps escaped.

"For true operation, a structured syllabus from an established arcane group is vital," Elara conceded, irritation clear. "My teacher's group, the Saint Gran Council, or Rhazuun's Order of the Dandelion... those stand as prime choices. But neither gives freely."

"They'll demand concessions in return," she added, creases forming on her forehead. "Thus, our Association faces outside influences right away."

There lay the core issue. Elara yearned to reign supreme in her realm. The notion of strings or foreign interference chilled her.

"Father, what's the way forward?"

Orion lifted her gently, placing her on the throne's armrest. He gestured through the grand entrance, across the bustling chaos of Stoneheart City—a lively tapestry of structures and vitality.

"Daughter, allow me to impart a ruling insight," Orion declared, his timbre profound and echoing. "Leading a mighty realm resembles brewing a hearty broth. Balance rules all. Blindly adding chunks won't suffice. Nor will a single seasoning."

"Consider the Horde," he pressed on. "Giants form the core, the hearty base of the brew. But solely that leaves it dull. We must include other peoples. Their zest, their variety."

"Unity doesn't demand uniformity. It thrives on unique elements melding in one vessel. Thus we forge an army ready for fresh conquests. Thus we seize triumph."

"If the Order of the Dandelion seeks to season our brew, welcome it." Orion's grin flashed, fierce assurance gleaming. "Inside the mix, it melts away. It integrates into our feast."