Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1445 Sons of Stone

Details about the "Divine Calling" for a Fourth-Stage Demigod weren't something Thresh would share without prompting. Such knowledge acted like a blade with two edges; grasping it too soon, before hitting the right stage, might bind a fighter's thoughts, halting their advancement through terror or

excessive rumination.

"That Dead Sea you brought up matches the situation I outlined," Thresh remarked, reclining further. "Once you've stabilized your Divine Fire and Divine Soul completely, you might think about absorbing it."

He jabbed a oily digit toward Orion.

"Keep this in mind: Avoid chasing after stuff beyond your league."

"You can't imagine the traps those fading ancient beasts set up."

This caution was essential. Orion had been cutting corners, drawing on the loaned power of his Fourth-Stage cultivation and Sixth-Stage physique. A sheep could easily stray when it fancied itself a predator.

"Thanks for the guidance, Commander," Orion replied, rising to his feet and offering a respectful bow like a devoted pupil.

"Are we finished? Fine. I'm heading back to rest," Thresh dismissed with a wave. "Now leave. You're simpler to handle than your boy. That rascal wouldn't quit until he smashed the jar to peek inside."

Thresh shuffled into his shelter. Moments later, steady snores echoed

forth.

Grasping the signal, Orion pivoted and faded away from Blade's Edge Peak.

Once Orion had departed, Thresh's voice emerged from the tent, laced with drowsy scorn.

"Demon King Theras... nothing but a huge demon brute... if he stirs, I'll simply pound him back to sleep."

The World of Eldoria. Port Caelwyn.

The heavens shifted to a gentle, pure azure.

With the dawn breaking across the skyline, its radiant beams filtered through the colored panes of Namir Cathedral. Viewed from without, the sanctuary appeared as sacred and grand as always, glowing under the dawn's glow.

Yet within, devastation reigned.

The marble effigy of the Goddess lay overturned and shattered. In its stead rose a rough yet commanding statue of a Stoneheart Titan, hauled in by the Hellscream agents.

Aina positioned herself amid the central aisle, embodying devotion itself.

"The ascending sun consumes the corruption. Tranquility starts right here."

"Mighty Titan God, heed our pleas. Bestow upon us the bravery and might to eradicate every evil. May our resolve stand unyielding as we advance."

The sight was utterly bizarre.

Aina offered her prayers like a holy maiden, her tone harmonious and clear. Close by, Raveth slumped across a splintered bench, wheezing desperately like a fish out of water.

He had clashed with the Ascetic, Cyrion, from twilight to daybreak. And defeat was his.

Raveth lacked true Legendary status; his strength stemmed from Orion's loan. It proved insufficient against a zealot such as Cyrion. After pounding Raveth down, Cyrion had pressed toward Aina, determined to halt her violation of the sacred altar.

However, Aina resisted.

Or more precisely, she bent the rules. She revealed the statue Orion had given her and released a targeted surge of Demigod aura. It erased Cyrion's consciousness in an instant, reducing the formidable monk to a mindless shell.

Now, Cyrion sprawled at the base of the Titan statue, the premier and purest offering. "Feeling recovered?"

Aina faced Raveth, her expression soft and smiling. "As the ritual circle activates and the Titan God's intent arrives, your power will surge even higher." During the night prior, Raveth had shown his faithfulness. He merited retention as a loyal hound.

"Proceed. Ensure every offering is prepared by dusk," she commanded in a tender voice. "From this day on, the Holy Light shall never grace this spot again."

Raveth hauled himself upright and hobbled away.

Solitary now, Aina lifted her gaze to the Titan statue and released a giggle resembling tinkling bells amid a burial ground.

"Father, brothers, Vianne... fear not. Aina is dispatching companions your way. You won't feel isolated below."

The Divine Kingdom. Stoneheart Temple.

Atop the loftiest summit, Rolan gradually parted his eyelids. He tilted his head skyward and unleashed a bellow that rattled the firmament.

He had succeeded.

He stood as the second Giant in the Horde's annals—following Lorelia—to forge a Lord's Stone via pure determination and aptitude.

Now wholly evolved into a Stoneheart Titan, his battle prowess had soared to heights beyond his measure. He sensed he could rend the heavens with a single strike or pulverize the peak underfoot with a

single tread.

WAAAGH!

As Rolan's cry resounded, another thunderous roar burst from the blood sea underneath. Rolan peered downward. The scarlet waves roiled fiercely. A colossal vortex of blood twisted skyward, poised to scour the clouds.

The disturbance persisted for a quarter hour before the tides withdrew,

exposing a form hovering in emptiness.

It was yet another Stoneheart Titan. Yet this one varied. He bore four heads

and eight limbs.

Rolan and Kaelen regarded each other.

They were unknowns. Kaelen had roused from his rest due to the immense force of Rolan's breakthrough howl.

"Who might you be?"

"Who might you be?"

Their words overlapped perfectly.

Rolan observed the four heads and eight arms with intrigue. From his lore, only bearers of the Mentor's pure lineage could attain that shape. Kaelen, in turn, evaluated Rolan. He detected the Lord's Stone throbbing inside the newcomer. Though freshly stepped into the Legendary domain, Rolan exuded a peril that tingled Kaelen's flesh.

"I am Kaelen. Son of the King."

"I am Rolan. Disciple of the Mentor."

Once more, their declarations nearly synced. The strain dissolved into astonishment.

"Greetings."

"Greetings..."

Right as the uneasy quiet loomed to resume, Orion appeared amid

them.

"Hahaha... Excellent! You two appear splendid!"

Orion gestured at the many-limbed colossus.

"Rolan, meet Kaelen. He and his mother got stuck on the Chaos Continent

within the Emerald Dream Realm. I fetched them back not long ago."

Then he indicated Rolan.

"Kaelen, this is Rolan. My sole apprentice."

Orion eyed his offspring. "Address him as Big Brother."

In the Stoneheart Horde, Rolan's position was exceptional.

He originated from humble roots. His birth father had perished battling for the Horde in its nascent era, and his mother had wed again to bolster the clan's numbers.

Rolan had essentially been nurtured by Orion and Lilith. All the assets poured into forging him as a fighter had drawn from Orion's private stores. Only upon reaching maturity and enlisting in the mounted forces did he begin to forge his independent path.