Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1584 Consuming the Profane

The Cult of Four. An uncharted domain.

Within a palace of immense grandeur, a place reserved exclusively for those holding a rank higher than the Twelve Pontiffs, a man adorned in white robes edged with gold occupied the highest seat. Behind him, a mural showcased the four deities cradling a sacred flame. Numerous devoted followers knelt before the Pontiff, their spiritual presences dense and potent with power.

"Gracious Four Gods, we offer our deepest gratitude for bestowing Divine Art and strength upon your devoted servants," the gathered worshippers intoned. "May your celestial radiance forever illuminate the mortal plane. We pledge to safeguard your boons with unwavering fealty and heroic courage. May your light illuminate our path each day..."

As the prayers reached their conclusion, the cultists dispersed. Only a single woman, clad in a translucent white robe, remained. Her gaze remained fixed upon the Pontiff, who was still absorbing the lingering adoration from his congregation.

"I can sense it. Your power has grown once more," the woman declared. Her voice, pure as the moon's glow, carried a chilling, sacred resonance.

"You intend to journey to the Titanion Realm?" The Pontiff interrupted his silent meditation, adjusted his vestments, and looked down at her with an air of unyielding authority. "Seeking an opportunity to ascend amidst the ensuing chaos?"

"I strongly advise you to remain here. The Titanion Realm is undeniably swarming with Alexander's operatives at this very moment," he cautioned. "Should you reveal even the slightest indication of your presence, you will be annihilated without hesitation."

Any individual acquainted with Alexander's modus operandi would recognize the speaker within this opulent sanctuary: Clown, also known as Witch.

"Allow me to be unequivocally clear," Clown warned sternly. "The Order has extensive ambitions for the Titanion Realm. Do not engage in any action that could precipitate trouble. Otherwise, if I refrain from dispatching you, the fervent zealots of the Inquisition certainly will. And being pursued by The Order surpasses the perils of encountering our former adversaries."

Clown comprehended Witch's underlying desperation. She had not yet attained demigod status, and her standing within the Cult of Four was precarious. She lacked a secure foundation. In the current volatile atmosphere, her ascent was a critical necessity; she craved the strength to withstand formidable old foes such as Leonidas and Alexander.

"What precisely are your intentions?" Witch demanded, meeting his gaze directly. She acutely needed the intelligence that Clown possessed as a Pontiff. Without such insights, she would inevitably be carried away by the prevailing currents, destined to become mere expendable fodder.

"What am I doing? Hmph." Clown emitted a scornful laugh, his tone laced with a dark, enigmatic mockery. It was difficult to ascertain whether his derision was directed at her or at himself.

"Do not overestimate the capabilities of a Pontiff," he stated. "Above me stand the Archbishops. The genuine, profound secrets and ultimate authority of the Cult of Four reside exclusively within their grasp. Certain truths may remain hidden from us until disaster has already struck."

Clown tilted his head upward, directing a look of utter contempt toward Witch. His disdain was not aimed at her as a person, but rather at the realization that the figure before him was not the genuine Witch. It was merely an illusory projection, not even a true avatar. Her excessive wariness was a blatant manifestation of her profound distrust towards him.

"Very well. I shall depart," Witch declared, recognizing the futility of extracting any substantive intelligence from him. "Contact me via the Survivor's Platform should any developments arise."

She turned to leave, but Clown had no inclination to allow her departure so readily.

"Witch, it has been an considerable time since we shared a moment of leisure. Why not remain and offer me your company?"

He framed it as a cordial invitation, yet the instant the words escaped his lips, Clown extended his hand and clawed at the vacant air. An unseen force seized Witch, pulling her forcefully back into his grasp.

"We are allies. Comrades-in-arms. There is no cause for you to harbor fear of me..."

Before he could conclude his statement, the woman held within his embrace stiffened, her form then transitioning into that of a lifeless, unmoving corpse.

Clown let out a sigh, his amusement completely vanishing from his countenance. "Merely a jest..."

Yet, was it truly? Only the divine beings possessed the knowledge of its verity.

Titanion Realm. The Northern Titan Continent.

Within the immense depression, the very site where the insectoid demigod Abaddon and Moniq had initially orchestrated a trap for Orion, a solitary figure stood engaged in spellcasting.

Moniq observed the colossal, chrysalis-like barrier, intricately adorned with insectoid sigils. An unsettling premonition gripped her heart with inexplicable force. The last instance she experienced such profound, visceral apprehension was prior to her ascension to demigod status, when she commanded her insectoid legions into an unfamiliar territory against overwhelmingly formidable opposition.

Why does my heart pound so fiercely? Has something befallen Abaddon within the confinement? Impossible. Even should Abaddon perish in combat, Her Majesty the Insect Queen possesses the ability to restore him to life. Could it be that the colossal demigod is attempting to break free?

Moniq found herself unable to comprehend the situation. She was actively engaged in fortifying the barrier. Had Orion initiated even the slightest movement within, she would have perceived it instantaneously. The disconcerting reality that she sensed no discernible anomalies, yet was concurrently overcome by an intense sense of dread, constituted the core of the predicament.

Before she could make sense of the situation, an inky black void tore open beneath her feet. A monstrous, shadowy claw shot out, seizing her and yanking her downwards.

"What—"

Her scream was abruptly silenced.

With Orion pushing it to its absolute limit, the Divine Kingdom obliterated Moniq instantly. The insectoid demigod was violently transformed into a surge of pure faith, flowing directly into the Stoneheart Temple.

A moment later, Orion appeared in the center of the crater. His gaze shot upwards, fixing on the Planetary Hive depicted in the sky above.

At the same moment, Orion's demigod aura exploded outwards, washing over the Titan Continent and surging through the entirety of the Titanion Realm.

It was a proclamation. The Giant King had made his return.

Precisely then, from Blackstone City up north to Stoneheart City in the south, every single member of the Stoneheart Horde felt his immense, overwhelming presence.

"The glory of my lord endures!"

"Giant King!"

"Long live the Chieftain!"

"We live and die with the Chieftain! To the ends of the earth!"

Cheers, prayers, ecstatic laughter, and primal roars reverberated across the continent. Orion's reappearance on the front lines propelled the Stoneheart Horde's morale to unbelievable heights.

Naturally, his arrival also served as a deadly warning to the vermin lurking in the shadows.

In an instant, several faint demigod signatures that had been stealthily observing the Titan Continent were utterly annihilated by his sweeping aura.

The pressure Orion exerted far surpassed that of a First or Second-Stage demigod. Like a tidal wave washing over the land, his aura violently crushed every concealed demigod phantom and spy that failed to escape in time.

Orion's objective was clear. He had emerged to cleanse the continent. Every heretic deserved to die. Every external foe was to be eradicated.

Screeeech!

A long, piercing insectoid shriek emanated from the Planetary Hive, rippling down through The Weave of Reality and directly into Orion's ears.

Orion gazed into the void, locking onto the phantom manifesting within The Currents of Reality. It was the Insect Queen Moriphara, issuing a challenge.

"You believe I fear a fight?"

ROAR! Orion bellowed his reply, refusing to yield. His body convulsed and elongated violently, assuming his ultimate combat form: four heads and eight arms. The demigod pressure crushing the world intensified threefold in that instant.

"This aura... a Fourth-Stage demigod?!"

"Damn it! Who provided this intelligence? Who claimed this native was merely at the first stage?!"

"How is this even possible?!"

"Flee! This entire realm is a pre-laid death trap! It's a slaughterhouse!"

As Orion finally ceased concealing his true might, the opportunistic scavengers and covert observers dispersed throughout the realm descended into panic. Some furrowed their brows in deep thought, while others instantly teleported away, abandoning the realm entirely. Regardless of their affiliation, Orion's sheer power struck them with terror.

Even Seraphina, currently hovering above Stoneheart City and shielding the populace with her divine power, observed the Giant King with keen interest.

"Such a captivating little man," she whispered, a proud smile playing on her lips as she watched him ascend into the sky.

High above the northern crater. With each step, a new heaven.

Orion's hair whipped violently in the gale as he ascended. With every stride, his physical form expanded tenfold. By the time he was suspended in the upper atmosphere, his colossal physique stretched tens of thousands of feet into the heavens.

"You desired a confrontation in the heavens? I accept!"

"You wished for me to integrate into The Weave of Reality? I accept!"

Orion's booming voice resonated through the heavens and the earth. He produced the Fel Fruit delivered by Vaelian and consumed it whole.

A monstrous surge of profane energy flooded his veins, resonating powerfully with The Chapter of the Profane anchored within him. A strange, conceptual metamorphosis began to take hold. Slowly, incrementally, his immense physical body started to transition into an ethereal state.

"You oppose me. You plot against me."

As his physical form fully dissolved into a conceptual existence, Orion's low, chilling voice echoed across the realm one final time, sounding like the harbinger of a divine plague.

"Let us see if you can endure my fury."

Every being who heard knew the truth. Giant King Orion was truly, and finally, incensed.