Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1555 Sylvie, the Little Fawn

An Uncharted Realm. The Whispering Woods.

"Your Highness, this is no ordinary fawn."

Deep within a cavern hidden in the forest, the Gnoll Wepwawet strode in, dragging a tightly bound white deer by a thick rope. He approached Pallas, offering the prize to his Giant Prince.

"Not an ordinary fawn?" Pallas lounged lazily beside a crackling campfire deep inside the cave, barely lifting his eyes to inspect the white deer dangling from Wepwawet's grip. "What, does white venison just taste better?"

"Heh heh... She's different, Your Highness. When I caught her last night, she was a beautiful young maiden!"

A maiden? A white deer?

Pallas's eyes instantly lit up. He and his royal guard had descended upon this alien world as the vanguard. Aside from securing a location to plant the ward-activator, their mission was to gather intelligence and subjugate the locals. This realm had been marked by the Platinum Authority. Everything here was destined to belong to the organization.

"Could she be from that elusive Spirit-Deer Tribe?"

It was obvious Pallas's interest was piqued. He pushed himself up to his feet and snatched the white deer from the Gnoll's grasp. The deer wasn't actually small, but held in the hands of a Giant, it truly looked like a fragile little fawn.

"From now on, you're my little fawn."

Pallas snapped the ropes binding her and cradled the beast in the palm of his massive hand, lowering his head to meet those wide, timid, and terrified eyes.

"Rumor has it the people of the Spirit-Deer Horde take the form of beasts by day and only return to their human shape at night. I wonder if it's actually true."

In truth, Wepwawet had already given him the answer. It wasn't that Pallas doubted the Gnoll; he simply wanted to see it for himself, right from the creature in his hands. Pallas stared intently at the deer, which had curled into a tight, violently trembling ball in his palm.

"Wepwawet, this is my fawn!" Pallas chided. "You absolutely cannot eat her. Look, you've terrified the poor thing!"

Having satisfied his curiosity for the moment, Pallas sat back down by the fire. He tucked the deer against his chest, petting its back as if it were a loyal hound. Her coat was incredibly soft, radiating a comforting warmth. It was incredibly soothing. Stroking the velvety fur, Pallas's eyes grew heavy, and he soon drifted into a light doze.

Night fell swiftly.

As the evening breeze swept into the cavern, carrying with it a few glowing, firefly-like insects that cast a soft blue light, the white deer—held tight in Pallas's embrace and too terrified to move—finally dared to relax her muscles.

A faint, emerald light began to ripple across her coat. Two breaths later, the white deer melted away, replaced by a young maiden draped in pale, gossamer fabrics, adorned with delicate trinkets woven from leaves and feathers.

Sylvie's eyes fluttered open. She craned her neck, trying to get a look at the massive stranger holding her hostage. It was the dead of night—the Hour of Stillness. This was her absolute best chance to escape.

She pressed her small hands against Pallas's heavily muscled chest, desperately trying to pry herself out of his suffocating, intimate grip. Unfortunately, it was useless. Pallas had her locked in a vice. Since brute force was out of the question, she had to call for backup.

Sylvie reached up, plucking a single green leaf from her hair. With a soft exhale, she blew it toward the cave entrance, sending it drifting into the night.

Just as she let out a quiet sigh of relief, Pallas's voice rumbled right next to her ear.

"Sending a message, are we?"

"Eep!" Sylvie was naturally skittish. The sudden, booming voice sent a violent jolt through her entire body.

For a split second, she completely lost control of her limbs, paralyzed by an overwhelming sense of danger. It was a berserk, dark, and bloodthirsty aura. It felt purely evil, like a Demon crawling straight out of the abyss.

Then, the pressure returned. Her petite frame was once again enveloped by a pair of massive hands, locking her down completely, as if he were terrified she might vanish into thin air.

"It really is a maiden!" Pallas marveled. "Emerald eyes, cute little deer ears, twin braids, and cherry-red lips... Wepwawet, this is a fantastic gift!"

The campfire crackled and popped beside them. The dancing flames reflected in Pallas's eyes, illuminating the sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl trapped in his arms. She wore a pale underskirt paired with an outer tunic of soft animal hide. She was remarkably petite and adorable, possessing an almost ethereal, otherworldly grace.

"You're my little fawn!" Pallas declared. "You can't run away. It's dangerous out there!"

His colossal hands tightened, transitioning from a gentle hold to a constricting embrace.

"Cough... cough..." The immense pressure was unbearable. A wave of panic washed over Sylvie as suffocation loomed, her small face turning a deep crimson while she desperately gasped for air.

Noticing her distress, Pallas immediately eased his grip.

"You are my fawn," he repeated, releasing the constriction but firmly maintaining his declaration of ownership.

Within Pallas's belief system, anything bestowed upon him as a gift was his, unequivocally. This conviction was forged in the harsh crucible of the Stoneheart Horde, where he was raised. Whatever came into his possession was considered his property by right. This included the white deer—the delicate, charming maiden now held within his grasp.

The transformation of the deer into a maiden fully awakened Pallas. He stood, lifting Sylvie high into the air, his eyes alight with pure elation. Had Elara witnessed this, she would have immediately grasped that Pallas was immensely pleased with his new acquisition.

"What is your name, little fawn?"

Sylvie was naturally timid around unfamiliar individuals. Suspended high above the ground in the Giant's grasp, she experienced a potent blend of primal fear and profound shyness.

"Do not be alarmed. You are my fawn now. No harm will ever come to you."

Perceiving the stark terror in her eyes, Pallas gently lowered her back to the ground. Reaching into his robes, he produced a luminous, emerald-green leaf. At its center rested a single, perfectly clear droplet of dew. Under Sylvie's watchful gaze, a mixture of fear and curiosity, Pallas allowed the Drop of Tranquility to slide from the leaf, landing precisely on her forehead.

Instantly, every trace of anxious, panicked emotion within Sylvie's mind was obliterated. A deep sense of serenity enveloped her, anchoring her completely.

"My name is Sylvie!" she declared, looking up at Pallas. Her eyes now reflected a blend of bewilderment and awe. The very instant that miraculous dewdrop graced her brow, her innate fear of the colossal stranger had completely vanished.

"Heh. I am Pallas!" the Giant boomed with a grin. "I am your master, and you are my little fawn!"

Sylvie's eyes widened in disbelief. She regarded Pallas as if he were utterly foolish. "Are you always this overbearing?"

Freed from her paralyzing fear, her true character began to surface. Her voice lost its timid tremor, and she spoke her mind without reservation.

"Overbearing?" Pallas chuckled, baring his teeth in a wide smile. He was not foolish; he understood her unspoken thoughts perfectly. "Not at all!"

"You were Wepwawet's quarry, and Wepwawet gifted you to me. Therefore, you are my fawn." He presented this straightforward reasoning before reaching out and lifting her into the air once more, examining her with utmost seriousness.

"I am a Spirit-Deer, not a fawn!" Sylvie protested, looking down to meet his gaze. She felt remarkably secure, sensing no trace of ill intent radiating from him.

"Hahaha! Spirit-Deer, fawn—it matters not! You are my little fawn!"