Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1451 Parting Gifts

"Even though the Monai race has perished, their lineage lingers on."

"Raveth, are you aware why your clan fell in the power contest?"

"Do you understand why the Holy Order sided with your foes?"

Aina's tone was gentle, infused with an alluring pull.

Trailing after her, Raveth shuddered as a horrifying idea burrowed into his thoughts.

"The cause is straightforward. It's due to your emerald-green eyes."

"You bear the Monai bloodline."

Actually, this was just Aina's speculation. Yet as a hypothesis, the odds favored it strongly.

"Truth or falsehood, right or wrong... no need to linger on them," Aina remarked, spinning around with a brilliant grin. "Future heirs will be the ones to decide."

If we perish in combat, she mused with icy detachment, no heirs will come after us. And as for the opinions of others' offspring? Why should I give a damn?

In the Titanion Realm, within Blackstone City.

Within the Horde's grand hall, Orion gradually lifted his eyelids.

Kronos and Pallas stepped in side by side. Following some adaptation time, the brothers had at last adjusted to their roused bloodlines, assuming their grown-up shapes. It was this very growth that prompted Orion to now entrust them with ordeals to hone their power.

"Have you two grasped your destination?"

Orion's words carried warmth, free from a Demigod's aloof presence or a King's oppressive command.

"Father, I'm prepared to heed your directives," Kronos declared.

"Father, count me in too!" Pallas added eagerly.

Orion gazed upon his pair of sons. They might not boast the most extraordinary gifts among his offspring, but they'd stayed nearest to him the longest. Even during Kronos's time in remote Soaring Bird City, for a figure like Orion at Demigod level, monitoring him required merely a glance.

They had arrived for their farewells.

After reuniting with his true mother, Rolan had swiftly reached out to Kronos. Pallas's trip to the Platinum Authority had long been planned.

"The Abyss teems with myriad mighty beings. Clashes are unavoidable," Orion cautioned, his voice grave. "If victory eludes you, retreat. Living on brings no dishonor."

Crimson glow flickered in Orion's grasp. He directed it toward Kronos, and boots edged in gold, enveloped by scarlet energy, materialized on his boy's feet.

These were the Boots of the War-Tyrant. Infused with teleportation functions and the striking force of Asura Blood Light, they formed a versatile relic for fighting or fleeing.

"Father, and for me?"

As Kronos lingered in awe over receiving such an exalted item, Pallas already called out. Among his kin, Pallas held the spot closest to Orion and displayed the boldest spirit.

"You?" Orion huffed. "You've bloomed like a sheltered bloom. Indolent and without ambition."

Flames sparked in Orion's hand as a trident took shape. He flung it offhandedly to Pallas.

This was among Orion's own armaments: Spite of the Wrathful Star. A splendid relic that could release banned fire incantations. Orion typically wielded it via his avatar, but it would now aid his son.

Pallas seized the trident single-handedly, his gaze igniting. Since Elara had flaunted her Flame of Will, jealousy had gnawed at him fiercely.

"Keep in mind," Orion warned, face stern. "Out in the world, never tarnish the Stoneheart Horde's honor!"

"Depart now!"

Orion detested goodbyes.

After shooing away the pair of youths, he fixed his stare vacantly on Blackstone City's far-off skyline. He stayed immersed in reverie until a cozy presence settled beside him. Lilith had drawn near silently and rested against him.

"Finding it tough to let them leave?" she murmured tenderly.

"Somewhat. Pallas has hardly known hardship. His start will prove challenging."

With Pallas vanishing to the Platinum Authority, a emptiness surrounded Lilith. Blood-related or otherwise, no young ones lingered near her anymore.

"Rest easy," Lilith soothed. "Our kids need their individual paths. You've equipped them with potent aces. Serious perils won't befall them."

Orion extended a hand to softly stroke her back. Then, recalling a detail, he uttered quietly.

"Kaelen and Sophia reach Blackstone City in a couple of days. Prepare accordingly."

"Kaelen's got strength. Hand him the Horde's latest issues. It'll speed his blending into our group."

Lilith inclined her head. She harbored no resentment for Kaelen or Sophia. Quite the opposite, their tale stirred profound sympathy in her for the duo. As his stepmother, she recognized the duty to extend fitting welcome when he rejoined the Stoneheart Horde.

"We should bestow on Kaelen the southern city near Blackstone," she proposed. "Let him have his territory."

Kaelen was an adult male; sharing a home wouldn't suit. Even Pallas had eventually left Stoneheart City's fortress. At present, only their firstborn Elara could still dwell with Orion and Lilith, yet she too was off on assignment.

"That's exactly my view," Orion concurred.

As the offspring departed successively, a subtle disquiet draped over the pair.

In Eldoria, at the Agaman Heartland.

Rays of sun, fluffy clouds, cooing pigeons.

A grand cathedral whose steeple stabbed the heavens, stone-paved walkways, and sunbeams piercing ornate Gothic stained glass. All appeared serene and lovely.

The harmonious chime from the steeple's bell rang out, signaling the close of daily devotions.

With the faithful scattering, a red-robed priest clutching a holy book in one hand and a rod in the other headed back to the robing room.

Maelric settled at his table, stowing the book and rod in a compartment. As he rose, speckled rays poured through the pane, casting light on his features.

Simultaneously, a lofty, shadowy form stepped from the gloom near the chamber's entrance.

"Your presence signals the Holy Order's ready to ignite carnage anew," Maelric stated, back turned.

He shot a quick look at the shade before grabbing a pen to amend papers.

"You shine as the Holy Light's pinnacle," the shadow rasped. "Surely you detected it prior to me. A glow south of the Andor Diocese has dimmed to nothing."

The shadow served as the Inquisition's Commander. He shrugged off Maelric's demeanor; functioning beyond Maelric's church framework, they shared equal standing.

"It could be just a postponement. Or maybe a hermit monk ascended to the Divine Realm," Maelric countered, eyes on his work. His rationale held merit. "We've seen such occurrences prior."

"Were it only a devotee ascending to the Light, I wouldn't stand here."

It was then that Cardinal Maelric gradually lifted his gaze. No surprise marked his expression, merely a chill fatigue.

"What's your proof?" Maelric inquired. "Who opposes us? What form of heresy now?"

Maelric's words cut direct. He loathed the Inquisition's role in spilling blood across his domain. It aided not at all in guiding his flock.