Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1434 Genetic Limit

"Aina initially aimed to wipe out every trace of life in her world—down to the last blade of grass and every living being."

"I convinced her to limit the destruction. At present, only the humans of that world are marked for elimination."

Orion's voice in the mind stayed flat and emotionless. "Still, even under those limits, I can't promise our fighters will endure it. Killing soldiers in battle is manageable; massacring countless defenseless civilians up close is entirely different."

"A disease eliminates the hands-on killing. It's an approach all can stomach since it spares them from wielding the weapon themselves."

As Tangere absorbed the reasoning, a cold shiver slithered along his back. The vastness of the impending doom overwhelmed him. But right after, that cold gave way to a thrilling pulse of sinister thrill.

"Big Boss," Tangere sent in reply, his mind buzzing with delight. "If that's how it stands... would you object to me reusing the waste?"

"They're doomed regardless, so discarding the organic matter feels pointless. Allow me to spawn some fresh creatures from the remains."

Orion felt no shock. From their first encounter, he'd recognized Tangere's lack of holiness. Their bond started with the Plague Totem Pole—a device crafted for the vile plundering of Faith.

"Handle it however you wish. Just make sure it's finished. And Tangere... remain in place for the moment. Devote yourself completely to creating this disease agent."

Orion cut the psychic connection.

"He'd truly go to any lengths for Archlord ascension," Orion reflected, his eyes fluttering open in the real realm.

Judgment of Tangere didn't cross Orion's mind. As a master of plagues, the themes of contagion, demise, and dominance defined his life. It made perfect sense for him to orchestrate a grand performance.

Orion directed his focus inside once more, toward the Divine Kingdom. A ripple in the ethereal fabric drew his notice.

In the heart of the Stoneheart Temple—within the Trial of Flesh, that blood-formed peak embodying Orion's core—a figure had attained the top.

"A pity."

Scaling the Mountain of Flesh and Blood to its crest demanded an unyielding resolve, matching any predecessor.

WAAAGH!

Scaling the Mountain of Flesh and Blood to its crest demanded an unyielding resolve, matching any predecessor.

WAAAGH!

A thunderous howl ripped across the spirit realm. It came from a Stoneheart Titan's bellow.

Deeper than any dragon's roar, keener than an eagle's call. It belonged to Rolan.

Atop the peak, Rolan underwent a change. Towering beyond three hundred feet, he became a massive figure of sinew and rock. Three heads emerged from his shoulders; six limbs extended from his body.

His presence weighed down heavily, swirled in disorder, and radiated fearsome might.

"Little one, are you ready for that last leap?"

Orion's projection appeared high above the Temple's expanse, gazing upon his pupil.

Rolan's success in claiming the bloodline enough to display the Three-Headed, Six-Armed shape proved remarkable. It went beyond what Orion anticipated.

Orion's words of "a pity" didn't grieve Rolan's shortfall. They mourned the bounds of flesh and blood.

Lacking a special build like Elara's, this marked the highest point. Solely she could hold the full Stoneheart Titan lineage to manifest the ideal Four-Headed, Eight-Armed shape.

No other like Elara existed.

Three heads and six arms signified the ultimate hereditary barrier for Giants. Without some wonder, this path concluded here. Gazing at Rolan, Orion foresaw the same ceilings for Rendall, Thundar, and Dace.

In truth, Orion yearned for additional successors to match his complete strength. Yet, beyond his own lineage offspring and Elara, his top disciple Rolan merely attained the level of Fergus and Tarn.

Long before, upon Orion's rise to Demigod, Fergus and Tarn synced with his heritage. Scant few realized they also bore the Three-Headed combat shape.

"Three heads, six arms... enough to challenge a Lord," Orion evaluated. "Enlightenment has struck him on the heights. Now, will he forge his Lord's Stone in a single move?"

"This, I'm genuinely eager to witness."

Should Rolan craft his Lord's Stone without aid, he'd claim equality beside Orion's progeny. Real might never hinged solely on heritage; the spirit decided it.

Regarding the essentials for Rolan's rise, Lilith arranged them ages past. Lands and supplies stood prepared.

Orion left him undisturbed. He blocked the zone for Rolan's solitude, then turned his sight to the spectral sea's profound depths.

In that shadowed void rested another Stoneheart Titan.

Differing from Rolan, this one featured four heads and eight arms. His build loomed even grander.

It was Kaelen.

Orion allowed him boundless draw from the Temple's bloodline essence to mend his shattered form. The outcome proved irrefutable. Kaelen regained his prime and pushed further.

His emergence neared. Upon surfacing, with added domains and Faith gathered, Archlord status awaited him inescapably.

"Kaelen's comeback signals the moment for Pallas and Kronos to set out."

"After Rolan finishes his shift, he'll guide Kronos into the Abyss."

Orion envisioned a precise strategy.

Pallas headed for the Platinum Authority. Exposure to the broader cosmos would teach her rule and influence on vast levels. A bloom sheltered indoors must face tempests to thrive.

Kronos ventured to the Abyss. Toughness was his need. Orion planned a seasoned successor fixed in the Abyssal World for command. Kronos fit the role.

For Kaelen... Orion chose to hold his exiled-raised son nearby. Kaelen remained in the Titanion Realm, directing the clash with Insectoids. Battling beside family would build the ties he missed, strengthening his devotion and ties to the Stoneheart Horde.

Elara led the thrust into the Eldoria continent.

And Caelus? Orion fretted over him minimally. In the Platinum Authority's ranks, Caelus would partake in assaults on foreign realms naturally. The Commander escorted him already to the Death-Soul Race's proving fields. His path lay assured.

Plans locked in, Orion pulled his attention from Kaelen.

He cast a quick look at spots where Rendall, Thundar, and Dace toiled. Some battled the crimson waves; others started ascending; a few meditated, desperately drawing in strength.

Orion could only observe now.

Titanion Realm, Blackstone City.

Under scrutiny too were Dirtclaw's pair of sons, Anubis and Wepwawet.

Labeling them "whelps" no longer fit.

They rose close to eight feet—true titans among Gnolls. Their coats grew dense, their builds rippled like iron ropes.

Yet to their elder sire, Dirtclaw, they stayed mere younglings.

"Well done." Dirtclaw rumbled, pacing around them. "Peak Alpha Level. No disgrace to me."

His gaze caused Anubis and Wepwawet to fidget uneasily.

Beyond fatherly command, it stemmed from lineage dominance. Dirtclaw's immense aura sparked an ancient dread in them, a urge to flee and cower.

Dirtclaw ignored their terror. Strength alone mattered to him.