Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1438 Elder of Instruction

"Grand Elder, the Stoneheart Horde is setting up a fresh position at the high table: the Elder of Instruction."

Orion's words echoed across the expansive Divine Kingdom.

"The Academy we're constructing demands a Headmaster. It calls for a figure of unbreakable honesty, one who earns deep admiration. Will you take on this heavy responsibility for the Horde?"

So far, the Horde's leadership rested on four key supports: Rendall, the Elder of Discipline; Thundar, the Battle Elder; Delilah, the Elder of Stewardship; and Onyx, the Elder of Prophecy.

These positions emerged from the chaos of battles, crafted purely for order and expansion. Yet with the Stoneheart Horde growing larger and more intricate, the centralization of authority turned into a hindrance. Splitting duties was unavoidable.

Authority needed to shatter for fresh possibilities to arise. A stiff chain of command smothered potential; a tailored one opened slots for emerging talents to claim. Positions must be shaped first before fitting individuals could occupy them.

"Your Majesty," Rendall lowered his head deeply, his tone heavy with feeling. "I am ready. I will devote my entire being to this duty."

Orion gave a satisfied nod. This idea had burned in his mind since he launched the initial youth camps. Those camps served as the trial run, a breeding ground for the devoted followers who today upheld the Horde's leadership framework. The upcoming Academy would merely scale up that system, broadening learning from the top tier to everyone.

"It's decided, then," Orion declared. "I'll return you now. The folks waiting outside must be eager for news on the Stoneheart Temple."

As the Giant King, Orion loomed like the distant heavens, mighty and a shield against outside dangers. Rendall grounded things, approachable and real, the one to share messages and handle everyday matters.

"Your Majesty, I'll make sure they grasp the Divine Kingdom's rules before stepping inside."

Orion gestured dismissively. Reality twisted, and the Grand Elder disappeared.

Titanion Realm. An Unknown Cavern.

Buried inside an old, petrified chrysalis, Eryndor floated through a shadowy emptiness.

Gradually, brightness and heat seeped into his casing, revitalizing his sleeping form. This went beyond mere warmth; it was raw life force, a feeling of organic elevation that teetered on bliss.

"My champion... the moment has come to shatter your bonds."

The sound was gentle, smooth as fabric on metal, reverberating in his slumber.

Eryndor snapped alert. He understood he wasn't in his original resting spot. Instead, he found himself trapped in a cage of his own design.

This ancient chrysalis represented a risky chance. It provided the insectoid species a route to advancement, though failing meant dissolving into sustenance for the young. Eryndor ought to have perished. His capabilities had run dry.

Yet destiny twisted unexpectedly. A gateway to the Wormhole Realm yawned open, engulfing his cocoon entirely. Within the Hive's Grand Pit, a Broodmother detected him and channeled her essence into his enclosure, balancing his transformation. "Shatter... shatter it... burst forth!"

His awareness exploded. Recollections rushed in. He grasped his next move. Hiss!

A deep, humming vibration rose from the tight gloom.

Thump. Thump. CRACK.

Powerful blows rattled the chrysalis internally. For the span of half a day, the steady battering persisted, until fine cracks webbed over the hardened shell.

With one last, slick rip, the chrysalis burst apart.

Eryndor rose from the wreckage. He transcended his old soldier status. Enormous, colorful butterfly wings spread from his back, gleaming with lethal dust.

"Eryndor! My son, you've triumphed at last!"

Kar'Sheen, who had stood watch over the cocoon like a guardian, hurried over.

The jump to the Wormhole Realm had aided the father too. Absorbing the Hive's surrounding powers, Kar'Sheen had surpassed his boundaries, rising to Alpha rank.

"Father!"

Eryndor moved free from his shattered confines, hugging his family. But joy halted as a scent thickened the air with chemicals.

"My champion. You've awakened."

Eryndor stiffened. His gut urged him to strike, yet that tone... it matched the guide from his darkness.

"Calm yourself, Eryndor," Kar'Sheen urged, letting go and pointing to the shape behind. "Meet Myxara. Her help alone kept you from becoming mere slurry in a husk."

Myxara lingered there, a Broodmother masked as a fragile human-like maiden, but exuding a fearsome, instinctual flawlessness.

Eryndor spun around. His pulse raced wildly. To humans, she could seem strange; to insectoids, she embodied ultimate allure.

"My champion," Myxara murmured, drawing near. "Will you fight for our swarm's triumph?"

She angled her head.

"Swear fealty to me, and I'll bestow the privilege of fathering the noblest lineage."

A Broodmother, an Alpha-level King, and a fighter forged in the Wormhole Realm. The blend of these powers was set to spawn something

nightmarish.

The North. Blackstone City.

A surge of weighty, timeless force rippled from the Grand Elder's residence. It faded in an instant, but for the sharp awareness of the Horde's leaders, it

blazed like a beacon.

Atop the eastern ridge, a huge rock trembled and revealed two shining

eyes.

"Prophet! It's the Grand Elder. He's returned!"

Rockwell's thrilled shout broke out before Onyx had completely separated

from the rock.

"Unlock the cellar," Onyx ordered, emerging from the ground. "Fetch the aged wines. Ready a present. We're heading to the manor."

He required no speculation. He understood Rendall well. That burst of presence served as a summons to his long-time comrades.

...

In another part of the city, Gort, the temporary Chieftain, rose from his workstation.

"I'll handle the tribute personally," he grumbled, a spark of uncommon thrill in his voice.

Within the Inner City, in a luxurious sleeping chamber, Dirtclaw halted abruptly. He had been eyeing a recent acquisition, a mount, tracing his fingers along the seat, when the energy struck

him.

"Hah! At last!"

Dirtclaw shoved the human slave girl from his bed, disregarding her cry as he strode to the exit.

"Anubis! Wepwawet! Drag your mangy hides here!" he bellowed along the corridor. "You lazy whelps are joining me to honor the Grand Elder!"

He turned toward his private storage. He refused to approach Rendall without an offering.

In the southeast quarter, the Buffalofolk territory. Earthshaker paused during a practice drill with his two smallest

offspring. His elder kids had stalled long before, but these pair... this duo retained fire.

He cut off sharply, his gaze whipping to the Grand Elder's home. "Wife," he growled, facing the older Buffalofolk female nearby, repairing his war mantle. She had endured the tough times and the plentiful with him. "Fetch from the strongbox. Get me that saved Dragon Scale from the expedition."

He regarded her, his cow-like eyes warming a touch.

"And remain indoors the coming days. Stay put. The Grand Elder's return... it might mean a chance for your own progress too."