Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1399 It is fate

[Field Report // Target: Leafmaw King]

[Stature: Small (approx. 5 ft)]

[Capabilities: High-level Stealth, Undetectable Aura, Flight]

[Special Defense: Molting Evasion upon critical injury]

Rolan jotted down the last details in the field report, coiled the parchment securely, and fastened it to the messenger raven's leg. With a swift flick of his wrist, he launched the bird soaring toward Stoneheart City.

In contrast to Orion's era, where raw power and brute strength dominated conquests, Rolan's generation stood apart. They emerged from the Academy's rigorous training. They knew that true warfare extended beyond mere hammer blows; it encompassed supply chains, reconnaissance, integrated combat strategies, and the power of written knowledge.

Prior to joining the Youth Camp, Rolan couldn't even read. These days, his command of military strategy surpassed that of nearly all the Horde's battle-hardened veterans. Education had honed him into a lethal instrument.

"Rolan, your dragon... it's magnificent," Ava murmured gently.

The clash had ended. No Leafmaw corpses cluttered the space near the carriage anymore, though the air still carried traces of ozone and scorched chitin. Rolan had returned to the convoy on his mount, matching the speed of the royal carriage to update Kronos and comfort Ava.

He chatted lightly, minimizing the ferocity of the fight. His goal was to ease Ava's worries and teach Kronos a lesson. To Rolan, Kronos and Pallas resembled younger siblings—gifted yet inexperienced. They paled in comparison to Elara's mysterious dread or Caelus's legendary status.

"He's still a juvenile," Rolan replied, stroking the Abyssal Demondrake's tough, scaled neck. "Once I hit Lord-tier, I'll petition the Mentor for permission to take him into the Abyssal World. A Demondrake needs the Abyss to truly reach its potential."

Rolan wasn't boasting; he was simply laying out the truth. Orion, at Legendary level, had charged into the Abyss. As the Titan(Giant) King's disciple, Rolan aimed to tread that identical road to triumph.

Kronos grew quiet.

Honestly, without Lilith pulling him into the army amid the Civil War, Kronos would have been lost in life. Even today, he drifted without purpose. Beyond the structured routine of military service, he lacked any clear guide.

"You are the Mentor's son," Rolan stated, his words slicing into Kronos's reverie. "Your path is destined for greatness. You're strong enough now to shoulder some of the burden. The Horde needs you."

Rolan gazed at the youth and perceived beyond mere doubt. In his imagination, he envisioned the ghostly form of six arms spreading out from behind Kronos's figure.

The bloodline of the Stoneheart Titan.

Orion had already issued the decree: with the cross-realm teleportation gate active, any deserving fighter could journey to the Stoneheart Temple and complete the rituals to fully awaken their Titan lineage. For Rolan, the Stoneheart Titan represented the Giant Tribe's ultimate evolution—a heritage crafted by Orion's own hands.

Kronos drew in a deep breath. "When we get back to the Horde and I get Mother settled, I'm going to request a transfer. I want to join the northern sweep operations."

He yearned to prove his worth. He longed to spill blood for the Horde.

"That's a noble sentiment," Rolan responded, leaning down to deliver a firm pat on Kronos's shoulder. "But I'm afraid that's not going to happen."

Kronos blinked in surprise. "What?"

"New orders came down from the Horde," Rolan clarified, his glance darting momentarily to Ava within the carriage. "The Mentor wants four satellite cities built to guard the cardinal directions around Stoneheart City. One of them is yours."

"Mine?"

"Your fiefdom, Kronos. The Horde will provide the raw materials, but you have to build it. And you're going to use the people following you to do it."

Rolan nodded toward the refugees from Soaring Bird City who trailed the convoy. "If you want them to feel like they belong to the Horde, make them build their own home. Sweat binds a man to the land faster than ink on a treaty."

Though Rolan addressed Kronos directly, the words were obviously meant for Ava too. This was Lilith's method of readying her: We have a plan for your people. They will not be guests; they will be citizens.

"A city..." Kronos whispered, dazed.

"You aren't the only one," Rolan smiled broadly. "Several of the other Princes are getting their own territories. You're my mentor's sons, the Horde's royalty. If a guest comes to visit, they need to know where to find you, right?"

Rolan gave Kronos's shoulder a final firm grip, then sat upright in his saddle. He inclined his head respectfully toward Ava.

"I'm going to scout ahead. If you run into trouble, shout. I'll be there in an instant."

The Abyssal Dragon emitted a deep growl.

WHOOSH!

With a nudge from his heels, Rolan surged forward, vanishing into the lead group.

"He is so like him," Ava breathed, her eyes fixed on the dust cloud Rolan left behind.

Kronos stepped back into the carriage, a fresh vigor emanating from his frame. "Like who, Mother?"

Ava replied. "He has your father's aura."

"It's the confidence," Kronos grinned, thrilled at the idea of his personal city. "The dominance."

"Yes," Ava concurred softly. "Dominance."

Rolan remained courteous, yet underneath simmered a fierce, unbreakable pride. It was a unique arrogance—the sort that trusted in world conquest because the calculations proved it feasible. In Rolan, Ava glimpsed the echo of the young Orion from long ago.

"Well, naturally," Kronos noted, a touch of longing entering his tone. "He is Daddy's only true disciple."

The thrill dimmed a bit, giving way to a twinge of jealousy.

Kronos understood that Rolan shared a deeper bond with Orion than he did. Rolan had years at Orion's side, soaking up his teachings, observing the raw effort and battles that raised the Horde from scratch. Rolan embodied that era's shining star—the unbeaten Myriarch, a Legion Commander before thirty. He ranked as a "Big Boss" in the Horde's structure, while Kronos still sought his place.

Kronos possessed the bloodline, but Rolan held the experience.

"It is fate, my son," Ava consoled, sensing his inner turmoil like only a mother could. She extended her arms and drew him close. "We cannot change the past, or the time you lost with him. But you have a new starting line now."

She embraced him firmly, striving to mend the emptiness of his fatherless youth with her tender care.

"Promise me," she urged in a hush. "Promise me that one day, your glory will shine so bright it illuminates the entire Stoneheart Horde."