Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1503 Premium Bait
Previously on Titan King: Ascension of the Giant...
"Besides," Corren snarled, his snake-like form twisting amid the waves, "we possess the location of this realm. We retreat for now, yes. Yet once our power surges... nothing will prevent us from ripping our return from its throat."
The menace lingered thick in the briny atmosphere. Coraline and Vaelor remained silent, yet the spark in their gazes confirmed the oath. It stood as a pledge of retribution, postponed yet eternally etched.
Far Below the Waves
At the same time, Orion, Leonidas, and the Kraken plunged into the depths, their mind connection alive with chatter.
"Brother," Leonidas sent mentally, "do you believe those three will linger? Hang around the entrance like pesky intruders?"
This worry made perfect sense. Should the Sea Gods turn vindictive, they might unleash avatars into the domain to torment Orion's troops without end, all while their true forms hid secure in the emptiness.
"Should they remain," Orion answered, his psychic tone flat and cold, "I shall shatter every avatar they dispatch. I'll wear them out until their Divinity drains completely."
No brag colored his words. It rang as pure truth.
"Hear that, Squiddy?" Leonidas laughed wildly, extending a huge draconic talon to whack one of the Kraken's dangling arms. "That's the voice of a true conqueror. Scribble it down."
"Boss, that's impossible for me!" the Kraken complained. "I ain't a Demigod yet. And even then... you haven't mastered it yourself, right?"
"Mind your tongue, squid snack." Leonidas struck the tentacle once more, with greater force.
"Oh, and Squiddy," Leonidas pressed on, shifting to a topic that truly grabbed him. "That creature—Vaelor. The freak with eyes dotting his tentacles. You aiming to turn into that upon ascension?"
"No way in hell, Boss. He's a monster," the Kraken shot back. "Vaelor's a grotesque outlier even for Dreadfin. A genuine abyss horror. Me? I'm your classic model. Elite quality, but classic."
Orion mentally sighed while leading the descent. When did a colossal Invincible Archlord-rank octopus become just "classic"?
"Oi, Orion," Leonidas kept going. "And the female? Coraline? Real stunner, huh? No tingle? With your legendary build, one crook of your finger and she'd leap straight onto you."
Orion tuned out the crude banter, concentrating on the intensifying squeeze of the ocean floor.
Not all females resemble that dragon Daize, Orion mused inwardly. You can't simply thrash them into yielding and label it love.
Titanion Realm, Southern Coast
Victory had claimed the field. The horde lay exterminated.
Spectacular sands stretched along the shore. Gentle waves caressed the coral barriers in soothing cadence, while ocean winds delivered a refreshing, saline haze. Such splendor escaped Jorik entirely. The Glacial Dragon stalked the beach, turmoil churning within him.
"Prince Kaelen," Jorik questioned, tension gripping his tone, "are you completely sure this Dragonlouse horde hides a Broodmother?"
Corpses littered the ground, yet the matriarch had slipped away. To Jorik, this spelled disaster. While the Broodmother endured, the plague would regenerate. They'd swarm anew.
"Insectoid hordes follow rigid hierarchies," Kaelen lectured, his voice detached and precise. "Workers, warriors, constructors, caretakers... notice the variations among the slain? Distinct bodily features among the fallen confirm a King directs them, with a Broodmother spawning more."
"No Broodmother means no eggs sorted or laid, and the horde crumbles. Today's flawless coordination screamed leadership."
Jorik gaped in confusion. Dragons he grasped; insects eluded him. Bugs were just bugs. Kaelen stood apart, though. Giant Prince yes, but Insect King too. He dissected the swarm's remains like a sage poring over charts.
"The Dragonlouse craves your species," Kaelen stated, pivoting toward the sea. "The Broodmother hunts where meals abound. She'll strike at dragon clusters."
His stare swept the endless, glittering blue. Vast, limitless, untamed. War's woes shrank in its shadow.
"So what's our move?" Jorik twisted his claws. "I must track her down. Slay her before fresh eggs drop."
Kaelen shot a sidelong look at the beast. Legendary, yet dim-witted.
He'd laid it bare, but panic still ruled the dragon.
"The Dragonlouse craves your species," Kaelen reiterated deliberately, stressing each syllable. "She. Will. Seek. Where. Dragons. Gather."
His stare bored into Jorik's. Fierce, unblinking, absolute.
Seconds stretched—maybe a whole minute—until realization dawned in Jorik's skull. Dread fled, supplanted by insight.
"Prince..." Jorik breathed. "You suggest... baiting her? Laying a snare?"
Excitement flared in his eyes. Dragon blood's allure was the Broodmother's fatal flaw.
"Not we," Kaelen amended, his pitch deepening. "You."
"Stoneheart Horde claims this land. You dragons have lingered too long."
Courtesy veiled the order, but steel underpinned it. Depart.
Kaelen held motives aplenty. His Second Legion and Volunteer Corps rode dragon-kin—Raptors, Wyverns. A prowling Dragonlouse Broodmother spelled feast for his riders.
Plus, as Insect King, rival swarms steered clear. To bugs, Kaelen's troops equaled his guarded flock. Only bold or burgeoning hordes risked raiding a monarch's stock.
Safeguarding his "flock" meant redirecting top-tier chum elsewhere.
"Gather your dragons," Kaelen commanded. "Vacate the continent. Her hunger will trail your blood's trail."
Credit to Jorik, he grasped it at once. No protests followed.
"Prince Kaelen, got it. Our paths diverge here." Jorik dipped his head. "Should northern winds carry you, Whitecliff opens its gates."
No time wasted by Jorik. A bellow rallied his fellows, wings beating skyward over waves, drawing the terror from Horde soil.
Kaelen lingered solitary on the strand, eyes tracing dragons to the skyline. Twilight's approach alone coaxed him back to base.