Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1479 Night of Butchery

"My Lord, shall we head back right away?"

Oswin Calder spoke those initial words the moment they exited the castle, with the enormous gates crashing closed in their wake. Theodore had wrapped up his meeting with King Orion and a secluded talk with Ava.

Theodore shook his head in refusal. Northguard now possessed a fresh anchor. The Stoneheart Horde was taking complete charge of its administration. Although Theodore kept the nominal title of Lord, his true power was severely restricted.

Naturally, the perks offered by the Horde were boosted to the fullest to offset that loss.

The heavy load he'd borne for years at last eased away, draining his energy. He'd been slogging through sludge for ages; freed at last, he required a moment to regain his wind before dashing forward once more.

Stay prepared constantly. The Stoneheart Horde never squanders potential.

Ava had ingrained that lesson in him deeply. As Lilith's closest aide now, she drowned in stacks of bureaucratic documents from across the empire's expanse. No one grasped better than her the Horde's frantic need for skilled rulers.

The Titanion Realm, the Emerald Dream Realm, the Silverwood Realm, and the fiery campaign raging in the World of Eldoria—the Horde expanded swifter than it could train overseers. They craved organizers and trailblazers alike.

Theodore surpassed the qualifications for each role.

Possibilities stretched out before him like a banquet; seizing a seat at that table hinged solely on his drive. The Stoneheart Horde had evolved beyond a mere tribe into a colossal beast that could foster its own Archlords. Should Theodore remain loyal, contribute, and amass sufficient achievements, he'd gain dominion over expansive lands and rise to pinnacles beyond his wildest dreams.

Yet recovery came first. With the Human Kingdom's downfall, Theodore's might—tied to the ancient royal lineage and the Mandate of Kings—had splintered. He required time to sever his power from the perished realm and craft a solid new base.

"General, have you ever been to the Silent Goblet?" Theodore inquired, fiddling with his cloak. "A bard dwells there, a wanderer from distant realms. He's witnessed marvels beyond our ken, holds knowledge faded into oblivion. His tales alone serve as profound lessons."

He patted the elder on the back. "I’ve got a flask of aged liquor stashed behind the counter. Join me. Let’s share a drink."

Theodore craved the respite, yet Oswin yearned for it even more. This silver-maned warrior had trailed him into the depths without a murmur of protest, shielding innocents amid utter despair. Theodore owed him a brighter tomorrow. He yearned to witness the veteran shatter his human boundaries, claim Lordship, and reignite his passion.

"My Lord, but... Northguard..." Oswin faltered, glancing northward.

Theodore dismissed it with a wave, silencing him.

"Relax. Northguard is under the Stoneheart Horde's wing now. His Majesty and his bloodline won't allow it to crumble against the bug hordes. We must allow time for blending in, and truthfully, Northguard's folk need moments to embrace the truth."

"Without our presence," Theodore added, his tone dropping, "their adaptation will quicken."

It amounted to a stark assessment of common folk's mindset. Should Theodore reappear immediately, he'd persist as their support, an emblem of bygone eras. They'd cluster around him, defying the emerging regime. Yet if the "Giant King" and his Horde stood as the sole barrier against ruin, the populace would cling to the Horde for salvation.

Theodore embodied history. For the union to succeed, he needed to fade from sight temporarily.

And if vanishing involved immersing in the revelry and exquisite vintages of Stoneheart City, Theodore embraced that trade-off eagerly.

"My Lord," Oswin murmured softly, "is there any chance for... restoration?"

Restoration. Reviving the Human Kingdom to its past splendor.

Theodore grinned, then denied it with a headshake. He offered no spoken reply, but the message rang loud.

The land now bowed united to the Horde. Even its title had shifted. Any return of the old realm would come merely as a subordinate. While the mythic Giant King drew breath, this soil would know no other overlords.

"General, cease gazing at the ruins we leave behind. Face ahead." Theodore swept his arm toward the vast metropolis encircling them. "Don't you aspire to claim Lord rank beneath the Horde's flag? Rumors say they've just promoted a fresh group of outsider leaders to the Legendary level."

It served as both nudge and temptation.

At the whisper of Legendary tier, Oswin's eyes narrowed sharply. The pulse that had thrummed with defeat's dull beat abruptly quickened. A dormant spark of drive, presumed extinguished, started to bud.

"Unlike the Human Kingdom, the Stoneheart Horde provides an boundless arena," Theodore pressed on, his words gaining an inspired edge. "Moreover... wouldn't you like to forge your own realm someday?"

If inheriting one proved impossible, Theodore would construct his from scratch.

His princely upbringing let him perceive the grand strategy plainly. Orion had attained Demigod rank. His sights wouldn't fix on one continent alone, nor would he content himself eternally as the Stoneheart Horde's Emperor. That throne awaited his heirs.

Orion embodied conquest. He sought boundless growth.

What Orion demanded was endless Faith Energy. Lands, societies, devotion... these ignited the flames of godhood.

Soon, the Horde's elite would deploy as Viceroys and Kings to oversee the realms Orion seized—sentinels of his domains. Varied worlds, diverse peoples, unique cultures. The optimal governance demanded tributary states, with Orion as the ultimate god and his faith as the official creed.

This marked the Stoneheart Horde's destined course.

Theodore understood that by staying humble and laboring for the Horde, he'd don a crown anew in time.

"General, the rules of the game have shifted," Theodore declared, striding onto the avenue. "Let's recharge. An empire awaits our construction."

World of Eldoria, Andor Diocese.

Darkness draped the night like a veil.

In Dolame Square, the radiant shield had crumbled. The divine glow vanished, yielding to a choking murk alive with the clamor of carnage.

The Undead Legion pressed onward through the shadows. Skeletons advanced in ghostly quiet, their bony swords shimmering with a icy, murderous sheen. Overhead in the plaza, Draconic Beasts and ghostly abominations wheeled like predators, shrieking directions to the troops below, exposing every nook where survivors hid.

The low-diving Draconic Beasts proved the gravest horror. They crushed holy structures without mercy, their hides mirroring the bursts of flame and flowing gore.

Yet the Demons formed the deepest terrors.

At home in gloom and killing, they glided like specters. To their vision, the quarry skulking in cellars and lofts blazed like signals in the dark.

Harsh bellows and frenzied, wild cackles reverberated from the structures. Dolame Square had morphed from a sacred haven into a abattoir.

Amid the obscurity, isolated bands of Holy Order knights mounted desperate stands. But facing the onslaught of the allied forces, their radiance resembled a sputtering flame in a tempest.

They toppled. They perished.

"Goddess..." a knight in his death throes wheezed, crimson foam rising from his mouth. "Awaken... behold your devotees..."

"Evil has arrived... Hell lies barren... the Demons walk among us..."