Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1393 The Titan's Ultimatum

"Are you certain?"

Doubt lingered in the voice of the first Demigod to speak, his gaze sharpening as he examined Orion's spectral form intently.

"You want the Spring of Life?" A harsh, mocking chuckle escaped Orion, laced with self-mockery. "Too late. I already drank it."

His words carried waves of regret, sorrow, and a flicker of building fury. The Spring of Life's hiding place ranked among the realm's most fiercely protected mysteries. Orion's effortless mention of it infused his tale with a chilling layer of truth.

Yet mere talk held no value in this standoff.

Quick looks passed between the three Demigods. Tension thickened the atmosphere. Retreat wasn't on their minds; an assault loomed. Divine power surged within them, aimed at crumbling Orion's image and dispersing his awareness.

"The Stoneheart Titan yields to no one."

Another weary sigh slipped from Orion, burdened by exhaustion.

With that, he advanced a single step.

At his back, the fabric of existence ripped apart. A visionary realm emerged—a savage, ancient terrain filled with razor-sharp mountains, churning molten pools, and vast grasslands. In this spectral domain, myriad Stoneheart Titans bellowed together, while hordes of nightmarish forces gathered for battle.

"Do you wish to fall into the Abyss?"

A fearsome force of attraction burst from Orion's illusory realm, seizing the three Demigods. Beyond mere physical weight, it gripped their spirits, yanking at their essences and risking a plunge into his territory.

Such was the might of a Fourth-Stage Demigod—the Archon of the Abyss.

Yet as Orion released his presence, a disturbance rumbled far below the Chaos Continent. An old, otherworldly force started to stir, reacting to his aura.

A scowl crossed Orion's face. He detected it right away—a sleeping terror embedded in the continent's core, a built-in safeguard for the land itself.

Battling three Demigods alongside a world-scale protector spells disaster, he thought.

He banished the Abyssal World. The pulling force dissolved. The strange throb under the ground eased, slipping back into dormancy.

Orion eyed the rattled group. Clarity struck him then on why Tusha the Reaper had faltered in claiming this territory. These three commanded a third of the Emerald Dream Realm for good cause; they guarded an apocalyptic arsenal.

"I hail from the Dusk Continent," Orion declared, shifting his approach. "Do you truly wish to start a war with us?"

He invoked the Champions Alliance ploy. A deception, yet one packed with weight.

Pallor drained the color from the three Demigods' faces.

An assault from the Dusk Continent would doom the Chaos Continent. The memory of that assault lingered sharp. The Alliance's Commander had severed Mondusath, the mighty Dragon King of Light, in one devastating strike that warped reality. That slaying stood as a stark alert to all gods across the domain.

And now Orion appeared—a fresh, enigmatic Demigod—revealing the Alliance's reserves as even more daunting than imagined.

Noting their dread, Orion eased his voice.

"He is my son," Orion explained, pointing toward the limp Kaelen. "Born after you sealed this continent."

A straightforward reason for his meddling. A parent reclaiming his offspring.

"Per our previous treaties," Orion went on, "I will take him and the Dark Butterfly Clan. You keep the land."

Relief washed over the three Demigods' features.

This verified two facts: Orion truly belonged to the Alliance, and conquest wasn't his goal. History backed it; the Silver-Eyed Kingdom had faced a parallel extraction long before.

"Half a day from now," the trio's leader at last replied. "We will open a passage at Phoenix Butterfly Ridge. It will remain stable for fifteen minutes."

"Acceptable?"

They had little say. War's outbreak would draw the Dawn Continent's wicked groups to Orion's side, eager for chaos. Merfolk would surge from the seas. Invaders from beyond would swarm like pests. The Emerald Dream Realm's fragile equilibrium would crumble.

Tranquility offered the sole path. And Orion wielded enough strength to enforce it.

"Acceptable," Orion agreed with a nod. "Very well."

Earlier. Gossamer Reach.

Hours of shrieking filled the skies.

Sophia perched atop the walls, observing the far-off clash ripping through the firmament. As the crimson Titan specter ascended, eclipsing daylight, her pulse raced wildly.

Four heads. Eight arms. It mirrored Kaelen perfectly.

Hope had surged within her, alongside fervent wishes, that Kaelen's enigmatic sire had stepped in.

But then she witnessed Kaelen's tumble.

Her knees buckled. She slumped against the chill fortress stones, gaze fixed emptily on the skyline where her boy had disappeared. Silent tears traced paths down her cheeks.

Child... come back... she murmured inwardly, her tone breaking. We don't need the territory. We don't need to fight.

Just come back to the Ridge. Just come home safe.

Kaelen... Kaelen...

Overwhelming powerlessness gripped her. She'd always viewed herself as resilient, as the mother of a fighter. Yet the dread of his loss stripped her defenses, leaving her trembling in fear.

"Please... save him," she wept, shutting her eyes. "He is your son too! I know you can hear me! I know you are strong enough!"

Her plea directed to the sole deity she recognized—the one who'd bestowed this child upon her.

"You're not quite as commanding as you were when you demanded my seed all those years ago."

A voice addressed her straight ahead.

Sophia went rigid. She dismissed it as delusion, a grief-fueled phantom. Eyes clamped tight, she pressed on with her quiet entreaty.

Moments of quiet dragged by.

"I brought Kaelen back," the voice repeated, nearer now. Steady, tinged with light humor. "Why are you still praying?"

Sophia's eyes flew wide.

There on the wall stood a ghostly figure. Divine power blurred his traits, but recognition hit her. The energy, the timbre, the overwhelming vibe—it was him. The figure from her visions. The one who'd gifted her rapturous evenings and enduring repercussions.

"Where is our son?"

A choked sob rose in Sophia's throat, fresh tears flowing unchecked. Fury or inquiries didn't surface first. Only raw, parental urgency did.