Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1431 Stoneheart Baptism

In the northern reaches, inside the sturdy walls of Blackstone City.

The flames of the Bonfire Festival had dwindled to mere glowing coals long ago. Logically speaking, the masses of visitors drawn by the grand event ought to have scattered by now. However, the lively atmosphere in Blackstone City showed no signs of fading. On the contrary, the throngs grew larger as additional clansfolk streamed in from nearby regions.

This change stood out clearest in the Inner City. Top officials from the Horde, together with their heirs, appeared more often than usual. The sharp-minded among them had already sensed the subtle changes brewing in the air.

Across numerous faces, anticipation was solidifying into a tangible craving.

Moonshadow Valley, the Underground Plaza.

Orion positioned himself in front of the assembly, his eyes scanning the crowd of a thousand individuals gathered in his presence.

Included in their ranks were Rolan, Rendall, Thundar, Dace, Ursa, Drakthul, Brom, James... along with their offspring. This group of a thousand formed the initial batch chosen for the Inter-realm Teleportation Circle.

They represented, in a way, the most devoted segment of the Giant race to Orion—those who earned his complete confidence. Each one traced their lineage back to Giant ancestry. Before long, they would pioneer the shift into Stoneheart Titans.

"I have only one instruction," Orion's voice boomed, profound and echoing. "For the adult Giants: remain inside the Stoneheart Temple for as long as you can bear it. The extended your stay, the more formidable the strength you'll claim."

He halted briefly, his gaze gentling a touch as it rested on the youth. "As for the whelps, their transformation will happen in an isolated area."

Addressing his followers, Orion conveyed not the aloof command of an Archlord or the King of Giants, but rather the warmth of a family elder tending to his relatives.

"Your will be done, patriarch!"

"Patriarch, we obey your orders!"

Orion sensed the varied feelings rippling through the atmosphere. From the grown-ups came surges of zeal and devotion. From the youngsters flowed untainted adoration and yearning.

He offered nothing further. Advancing, he triggered the teleportation formation himself. Power rushed forth, and with a burst of brilliance, he transported his kin straight to the Divine Kingdom, right into the core of the Stoneheart Temple.

"You are merely the beginning," Orion whispered, observing the fading traces of void energy.

They marked the initial batch of his followers to gain enhancements ahead of the impending worlds' merger. He felt a surge of eagerness for what would unfold.

Outside, gazing over Blackstone City.

Darkness had settled in, yet the city—in its Inner and Outer sections alike—glowed vibrantly. Past the guards on patrol, the inns and pleasure houses stayed crowded with locals reluctant to head back. Ever since the Stoneheart Horde brought the Black Forest under one banner, restrictions like curfews had vanished entirely.

Perched on the eastern mountain ridge, the panorama was stunning—a lookout that shrank the expanse below to insignificance.

"Prophet, Blackstone City buzzes with more energy than ever. More thriving, more splendid."

Rockwell and Onyx stood side by side, staring at the vast array of lights below. This overlook belonged solely to the Obsidian Golems as their prized domain. Ages back, Orion had bestowed this ridge upon their kind. Despite their triumphs in claiming huge expanses to the South and in the Abyssal World, the Golems cherished this peak still, honoring it as their heritage site and haven.

"Heh. It wasn't always this boisterous," a gravelly voice sounded from nearby. "In the old days, it was mostly just Rockwell up here, eyeing the fresh trainees practicing in Moonshadow Valley."

Onyx hadn't uttered a word, yet one of the pair lingering behind him had interjected.

That was Magmus. He shone as the standout Obsidian Golem of his era—hardly grown, but already a fighter at Alpha rank. Next to him was Gort, who had taken over from Rockwell as Chieftain a few years earlier.

Here assembled the four key supports of the Obsidian Golem lineage, and not merely for soaking in the sights.

"I have confirmed it with My Lord," Onyx stated, his focus locked on the city's glow, brushing aside the chatter at his back. He passed on the details from Orion with flawless accuracy. "Should I step into the Stoneheart Temple for the baptism, the Obsidian Golem bloodline won't disappear. Still, it's quite likely to merge into one unique power—a subordinate feature tied to the Titan shape."

Rockwell embodied the past. Gort represented the now. Magmus pointed to what lay ahead.

In their grasp lay the destiny of their people. Onyx outlined the route he intended to take. It served as both a declaration of purpose and an experiment. The outcome for Onyx would stand as the main proof for Rockwell and the rest to shape the path for all Obsidian Golems.

Onyx remained uncertain of the choices his companions would make, yet his resolve stood firm. He would venture into the Stoneheart Temple. He would finish evolving into a Stoneheart Titan.

The remnants of the Golem heritage mattered little to him. His drive to climb into the Legendary realm burned unwavering. This position he held, and it signaled his message to the clan.

Quietness fell over them.

Rockwell, Gort, and Magmus directed their sights to the shimmering city below, remaining silent.

Moments slipped by, tracked solely by the moving moonlight that started to light up the ridge's rocky edges.

"If I represent the history of the Obsidian Golems," Rockwell declared, his rugged stone face aglow in the lunar shine, "I support the whole race embracing the blood shift. We need to boost the group's overall might, aptitude, and promise. But... should some resist, we can't compel them."

As the ex-leader, he stood as an emblem of the bygone era. Opposition to him was unthinkable, since his era had ended.

"If I voice the current state," Gort followed, echoing his elder, "I agree with Chief Rockwell. Should a fighter balk, I won't push him."

Now, just Magmus was left.

"Chiefs," the youthful fighter started, his tone firm. "Truthfully, the 'Obsidian Golem Race' no longer exists. Only the Stoneheart Horde remains. We belong to a single mighty clan."

"I don't care about the Golem Patriarch title. Nor do the other youths." Magmus advanced, his gaze aflame. "Our concern is avoiding the lag behind the young of rival groups."

"The peaks others attain, we must scale too."

Onyx, Rockwell, and Gort pivoted, taken aback by the intensity in the young Golem's words.

"The might of the Princess and Prince stands evident to everyone," Magmus pressed on. "The Prince holds Legendary rank—that's beyond question. And whispers claim the Princess carries My Lord's lineage and has risen to Archlord might."

Even as gossip, considering Elara's fearsome prowess, the tales probably rang true. For the rising generation, the depth of Pallas's dread toward Elara served as the sole gauge for her actual power.

Their outlook on the realm differed sharply from that of their seniors.

"Prophet, Chiefs," Magmus regarded them. "Your eras revolved around the fierce hunger to climb each new level."

"My era revolves around the fierce hunger to avoid trailing far behind."

"Let us convert," Magmus proclaimed. "Let the Obsidian Golems fully merge into the Stoneheart Horde. Let us forge a blood tie with the Horde."

"Let us form a genuine family."