Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1514 Beyond the Circle

Releasing the egg represented a deliberate strategy. It acted as an economic jolt, compelling the greedy clans to release their piled-up riches.

This marked the onset of a pattern. Lilith purposefully fortified the Horde's core power using these "welfare" initiatives.

The loop was refined: Swap resources for a Broodmother. Nurture the Broodmother to spawn a swarm. Deploy the swarm in battle for the Horde. Transform war triumphs into Merit Points.

Merit Points made the treasury's artifacts—and the supreme goal of noble estates—no longer distant illusions. They became reachable goals.

"Lucky bastard," Tristan murmured, nodding along with Nico. "Whoever claims that egg... their family secures a dynasty."

With the egg offered within their circles, its cost stayed limited. It was a boon reserved for those possessing the funds to claim it.

"That's why you must build your hand strong," Nico advised, pulling a bone tile from the table's middle. This served as a fraternal nudge. "When chance arrives, you require the cards to seize it."

"Opportunity counts for nothing without the power to grasp it," Kadir whispered softly. He pulled a tile too, expression impassive. He held it without playing, merely observing.

"Too steep for me. I fold," Tristan said with a shrug, grabbing a tile regardless to occupy his fingers.

"Hahaha! Tristan Greymount, forget the egg. I require management experts," Nico chuckled, steering conversation to practical matters. "Race doesn't matter to me. If they perform, I'll hire them."

As none among the trio could vie for the Broodmother, Nico turned to elements within his grasp.

"All who carry the Colosseum's mark join our ranks," Nico declared effortlessly.

He sought elite slaves. Fighters, overseers, expert aides—he craved personnel to fuel the operation. The Colosseum devoured resources like a ravenous monster, and should war call for it, he'd send gladiators to the battlefront. Depth in reserves was essential.

"I've spread the call across inter-realm networks," Tristan guaranteed. "Responses will arrive shortly."

World of Eldoria, Temple of Terminus.

Perched on the throne, Orion kept his eyes shut, face etched with grave focus.

Watchful eyes were upon him.

Innumerable horrors from the Void—the Zeythan Dreadfin—locked gazes on his position. Still, Orion stayed composed.

Truthfully, Orion couldn't fathom his image in their sight. To Void beings, he could resemble a canvas, a warped tree, or a sharp peak. Regardless of shape, summoning World Tree roots directly before them was necessary.

Discovery and cutting of those roots would unleash devastating consequences. Extreme care was vital.

Orion stretched out his palm. It looked barren.

At once, he sent his awareness into the Void, tracking the Zeythan Dreadfin Race. He scanned for any quiver, change in attention, hint of detecting his action.

Any response from them meant instant halt.

Luckily, the beasts held motionless. Their stares weighed oppressively yet unchanging. The throne's activity escaped their notice.

They can't see me, Orion determined. Or at minimum, my present form evades their realm's detection.

Paranoia served as a key to endurance. Confirmation was required.

A trident appeared in his grip—a superior armament, prongs sparking with packed lightning.

He simulated a launch, stare fixed on the creatures.

The trident soared forth, stabbed vacant space, and snapped back to his hold instantly.

No response. Zero twitch from the Zeythan Dreadfin.

Confirmed. They remain sightless to me.

Then how did Leonidas get detected?

His sibling's mishap puzzled him, yet Orion dismissed it. Intensifying the trial was next.

He banished the tangible arms. A fresh trident emerged instead—purely crafted from Faith Energy. This embodied the Agaman Holy Order's creation, a Templar's doomsday tool.

Upon manifesting, it unleashed a dreadful, sacred aura.

Orion mimicked the throw again. Hurl. Recall.

The beasts showed no reaction whatsoever.

Good.

Barring the Zeythan Dreadfin pulling off a masterful group ruse, safety was assured. Power's pursuit demanded the gamble.

Orion regulated his breath. Mentally, he extended, initiating the grueling task of pulling the Divine Kingdom nearer to the World of Eldoria.

The Void. The Gate of Vigilance.

For the Zeythan Dreadfin, this "Gate" merely resembled a massive gravestone adrift in emptiness.

Previously, each crack in the stone exposed a pathway—a gateway to a lush, lively realm.

In a frenzy to launch an assault without delay, nearly all Zeythan Dreadfin clustered near the Gate, scrutinizing it fanatically.

Recently, a Dragon Soul had snuck past the fissures. It fooled the lesser fiends but fell prey to the rousing Ancestors—the Demigod-tier Dreadfins—right before venturing further, getting consumed.

That occurrence enlightened the monsters.

It signaled outsiders beyond the stone coveting their domain.

Should those intruders probe the barrier, even minor harm might let Ancestors unite forces to demolish it fully and surge into the fresh realm.

Post-Dragon Soul event, the typically dormant Ancestors from abyssal depths now stared unblinkingly at the Gate.

"Which idiot would covet this lightless abyss?" one entity broadcasted, its mental tone laced with tedium.

To Zeythan Dreadfin, the Void offered bliss and captivity alike. Immortality with endless revival reigned, but ceaseless quiet bred insanity.

All craved the sealed world's embrace. Death there promised thrilling saga over this deadlock. Plus, demise wasn't final—they'd regenerate in the Void eventually, diminished yet enduring.