Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1481 A Crunchy Snack

The earth did not simply tremble; it shuddered as the soil transformed into frigid iron under the sudden flash-freeze.

Guards on their rounds and devout followers tending the temple grounds were paralyzed in mid-stride, their lives extinguished before they could even collapse. They stood frozen as icy statues, stark monuments to an abrupt catastrophe.

Inside the Great Hall, Maelric and his high priests peered at the unfolding horror displayed on the scrying mirror.

"An Evil Deity," one priest stammered.

"Move! Teleport to the Headquarters right now! We must initiate the Summoning Rite. Immediately!"

Maelric bolted from his throne. With a dramatic flourish of his crimson robes, he stormed toward the Holy Order's sanctum, forcefully dragging the Lord Commander of the Inquisition and the High Judges along with him.

Simultaneously, the holographic projections of clerics from various Dioceses flickered and winked out of existence.

This was a critical emergency. Malevolence had descended upon the doorstep of the Holy Order. Their only path to salvation was to consolidate their power and invoke their god. Should they falter, the dark god’s maw would consume them entirely.

"Her beauty is not merely skin deep; it is the warmth and kindness that radiates from within..."

Despite the glacial devastation, the Agaman Sanctuary mobilized with military precision.

A dome of pale, golden brilliance materialized, shielding the main city. Where this holy radiance touched the encroaching ice, the frost hissed and surrendered, dissolving into harmless water.

Behind the sanctuary, in a humble stable, an old man draped in roughspun linen awoke with a jolt. The chill had pierced his slumber. He stepped outside into the biting air and tilted his gaze upward.

"The Goddess is kind. She is the Light, illuminating the dark, dispelling the fog, guiding us lost lambs to the path..."

Looking through the translucent golden barrier, the elder beheld the origin of their terror: the World Dragon.

For an Ascetic, fear was not a foe but a companion. With every victory over dread, their cultivation deepened, and their faith turned more crystalline. Their spirits were blades of iron, forged within the inferno of terror.

Thus, the old man began his chant. He moved forward, stepping not upon the earth, but walking onto the very air itself. Steadily, he ascended toward the heavens to confront the World Dragon.

"Praise the Goddess. Kindness is power. It melts the indifference of the world, bridges the chasm between souls, and lets your heart speak to mine..."

The nameless Ascetic drifted through the golden barrier, hovering before Leonidas. He offered praises to his deity, attempting to rebuke the calamity-bringing wyrm with sacred verses.

"An Archlord at the zenith of his power?" Leonidas rumbled, his voice echoing like grinding glaciers. "And dressed in tatters. You must be one of those Ascetics."

The dragon snarled. "You fool. Convert to me."

"Faith in your Goddess brings only ruin. Worship me, and I shall grant you eternal life!"

"Hahaha!"

To Leonidas, an Ascetic was merely a stubborn monk. He understood that these men were the most difficult to break, yet his boundless ego demanded the effort.

"Your Eminence," the old man replied, his voice remaining tranquil despite the behemoth breathing down his neck. "This is the domain of the Agaman Goddess. I pray you depart, lest you ignite a futile War of Gods."

Ascetics were far from being rigid, mindless zealots. This elder was a man of wisdom. Even though Leonidas had already desecrated their land, he offered the beast a chance for peace.

"Hahaha! Do you truly believe I arrived here because I fear a God War?" Leonidas bellowed. "An Ascetic such as yourself... your Faith Energy is remarkably pure. Since you are destined to provide sustenance for someone, you might as well provide it for me."

The dragon did not wait for a response. His jaws unhinged, revealing a black void that rushed toward the old man.

Blinding holy light surged from the Ascetic, a desperate gambit to engage in a struggle against the dragon's suction. Against an ordinary World Dragon, the old man might have stood his ground.

But Leonidas was empowered by Divine Power.

The resistance endured for exactly one second. Then, the old man was pulled into the jaws and swallowed whole.

"Not bad," Leonidas grunted, savoring the influx of power. "Rich. Truly exquisite."

To a World Dragon, a high-level Ascetic served as a nutrient-dense delicacy.

Agaman Sanctuary. The Main Cathedral.

The moment Leonidas consumed the nameless monk, Maelric finalized the ritual.

The statue of the Goddess standing within the nave—previously a faceless, wooden carving—suddenly erupted with blinding luminescence. Having feasted upon the panic-stricken Faith Energy of the masses, she awakened.

BOOM!

The statue surged upward, shattering the cathedral's ornate dome and rising into the sky like a Valkyrie. She pulsated with a majestic, oppressive aura.

Leonidas noticed her instantly.

"A Will Projection?" The dragon narrowed his eyes. "No... that aura is too faint. It is merely a Seed of Will."

He had prepared himself for a skirmish with a Demigod's avatar. A Projection would have carried a substantial portion of a deity's might. A Seed, however, was generally just a spiritual bookmark meant for harvesting faith.

The disparity in power was immense. Nevertheless, infused with the Holy Order's vast reserves of Faith Energy, this Seed was punching above its weight, mimicking the pressure of a true Demigod.

"Excellent. First a crunchy Ascetic, and now a Goddess's Will Seed? Today is certainly my lucky day."

The World Dragon opened his maw once more, channeling his gravitational devourer.

However, he faltered this time.

The Goddess statue raised her torch-like scepter. Infinite holy light cascaded outward, nullifying the dragon's gravitational pull.

Simultaneously, golden runes bled from the hem of her robes, swirling and condensing by her side into the spectral manifestation of a massive, golden Dragon Lance.

The lance radiated a terrifying keenness. For the first time, even Leonidas felt a prickle of genuine peril along his scales.

"Calm yourself, brother," Orion's voice whispered in Leonidas's ear. "Do not let that aura deceive you. It is merely a projection of a Demigod Artifact. It lacks even the power of a legitimate Relic."

Reassured, the hesitation in Leonidas's gaze vanished, replaced by primal ferocity. His Dragon Aura lashed out like a whip, initiating the assault.

A projection of a Demigod Artifact?

Hidden within the Void, Orion watched the battle unfold, his mind racing. Could the founder of the Agaman Holy Order actually possess a Demigod Artifact?

Had Orion discovered this when he first attained Demigod status, he would have likely retreated instantly.

But the situation had changed. He now understood the secrets of the high table.

The majority of Demigod Artifact owners—and those terrifying beings from the Sixth Realm—remained in deep hibernation. They lay dormant, waiting for an opportunity to ascend to godhood, or perhaps to slay a god. Whatever the reason, slumber was their default state.

Even Thresh, the Commander of the Champions Alliance, was currently resting in his true form.

In truth, Orion's own reluctance to manifest his true body in this dimension was not merely out of fear of shattering the realm's delicate physics. It was because he sensed a vague, impending crisis.

That instinctive dread kept him perpetually on edge. This was precisely why his true body remained in the Chaotic Void, laboring through his cultivation day and night, preparing for the storm on the horizon.