Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1604 Rivalry of the Blessed

While Lilith and Onyx were engrossed in their administrative duties, the strange phenomenon occurring above Staghelm City cast its light all the way to Stoneheart City.

The dazzling moonlight enveloped Stoneheart City in an otherworldly, misty luminescence, imbuing the entire settlement with a dreamlike quality. The distant mountains encircling the city transformed into subdued silhouettes, and the city's ramparts were edged with a soft, platinum sheen.

Sensing the immense surge in magical energies, minuscule sprites emerged from the city's nooks and crannies, frolicking within the moonbeams.

Lilith and Onyx emerged from the Horde Hall to find the entire city bathed in a milky-white halo, shrouded in a sheer veil of light.

However, Lilith's countenance remained completely impassive.

"My Lady, this spectacle... you appear entirely unfazed?" Onyx inquired.

He knew Lilith intimately. Her complete lack of reaction to an event that seemed to alter the very fabric of the world indicated that she was already fully aware of its cause.

"The moonlight originates from Staghelm City," Lilith stated calmly. "For reasons yet unknown, Isilra, the Moon Elf, has received a blessing from the world itself. This marks her path to ascending into the demigod realm."

Orion had previously apprised Lilith of Staghelm City's arrival and Isilra's presence. Nevertheless, Isilra receiving a direct world blessing was fresh information to her—a recent update from Orion. And truthfully? Envy stirred within her.

"Such a fortunate child," Lilith whispered, her gaze fixed on the distance.

The 'child' she spoke of was not Isilra, but the unborn infant she herself carried. Compared to Pallas and the others, this unborn child was already being afforded the utmost privilege. This baptism of World Essence was not solely benefiting Isilra; it was directly nurturing the child within Lilith's womb.

"Given that Staghelm City has only just arrived in the Titanion Realm, I anticipate Isilra will be paying Stoneheart City a visit shortly. Prophet, we must elevate her reception protocols to the absolute highest standard."

Lilith's directive genuinely surprised Onyx. The existing plan for welcoming the Staghelm City delegation was already set at the demigod tier. Even without certainty of the Moonwell's Excellency's personal attendance, the Stoneheart Horde was obligated to extend the highest degree of respect.

"Set aside the Moonwell's Excellency for the moment," Lilith continued, turning away from Onyx. "Isilra's standing, and the child she carries, necessitate special courtesies. Moreover, anyone who receives a world blessing is automatically entitled to demigod-tier protocols."

"She... she is highly likely to become the Stoneheart Horde's second demigod, following Seraphina. She will be an immense asset to Orion."

Though Onyx could not perceive her expression, he could sense the underlying bitterness in her tone. A wave of sympathy washed over him for Lilith, but it was swiftly eclipsed by his own surging excitement. To his knowledge, two demigods were already bearing the Chieftain's offspring. For the Stoneheart Horde, this was an event of profound significance. The children of demigods represented the future of the Horde; they were the true lineage of the Stoneheart Titans.

Merely contemplating it sent a jolt of adrenaline through Onyx.

The Titan Continent. The Northern Sea.

Unlike its southern counterpart, the sheer immensity of this expanse defied simple description. In the far distance, the horizon appeared bifurcated: one half composed of stardust suspended in the void, the other of sand drifting through the water. This oceanic region was almost entirely devoid of islands. The tides simply surged and receded beneath the starlight, an unending, repetitive rhythm.

The sole companion to Seraphina was the ceaseless ebb and flow of the sea.

"What are you gazing at?"

Orion materialized on the shoulder of the colossal Merfolk statue Seraphina had summoned. Beside him sat Marina, her legs dangling idly.

"Just enjoying the view," Marina replied, drawing her eyes back from the horizon to observe Orion's Death-Soul Fiend avatar, tilting her head slightly. "I miss the Glazed Sanctum."

"Is this your Death-Soul avatar?" she inquired.

"Indeed," Orion affirmed, taking a seat beside her and mirroring her pensive gaze. "I apologize. I failed to safeguard our home. I failed to protect our Titanion Realm."

It was the undeniable truth. According to the grand design conceived by Orion and Marina, the Titanion Realm was intended to be their exclusive domain, their personal sanctuary.

"Do not apologize. You have accomplished extraordinary feats," Marina said softly, resting her head against his shoulder. After examining the features of the Death-Soul Fiend and acclimating to its presence, she returned her attention to the distant horizon. "Were it not for you, I might have met the same fate as Kairon. I would not be here to witness this nascent world, let alone reap its rewards and reach the second stage of the demigod realm."

They remained in quiet contemplation for an extended period.

"By the way," Marina blurted out, shattering the silence. "That moonlight illuminating the central continent... that's your little lover, isn't it?"

Orion found himself at a loss for words.

"She's fortunate," Marina murmured to herself. "Arrives and is immediately blessed by a world boon. Even the tiny one in her belly gets a free ride."

Before Orion could utter a sound, she turned her gaze upon him, her eyes alight with a sudden competitive fire. "Orion. You must find a way to secure a world blessing for our child too."

The rivalry had officially ignited. Whatever Orion's other offspring received, hers had to match. If they lacked something, she fully expected Orion to devise a method to obtain it for their child regardless.

Orion merely gave a nod, mentally consigning the nigh-impossible demand to his ever-growing list of tasks.

"Your original forces and the Horde's aquatic units must maintain a lockdown on this sea for the time being," Orion stated, steering the conversation elsewhere. "Once stability is achieved, we will dispatch additional troops to assist in the exploration of deeper waters. I am also assigning an undead legion to your command to minimize any casualties among the aquatic races."

The Stoneheart Horde's present naval strength was, in essence, comprised of Seraphina's former loyalists. The meager aquatic forces Orion had previously managed to assemble were a pathetic comparison to the might commanded by a demigod. While Seraphina had maintained a low profile in the ancient Titanion Realm, when conflict erupted, the forces she could muster were truly formidable. The Sea-Drake race, the Naga, the Leviathans, the Ichthyosaurs, the Water Sprites... nearly every aquatic race from the old realm had pledged their allegiance to her.

"Orion, we..."

Seated upon the shoulder of a colossal Merfolk statue, Orion and Marina conversed as if they were dear friends reuniting after an eternity apart. Yet, viewed from a distance, the silhouettes of the two figures appeared profoundly solitary against the immense backdrop of the sea.

The Central Continent. Outer reaches of Stoneheart City.

Two elder gentlemen, clad in flowing white robes, ambled along side-by-side. One of them bent down, scooped up a handful of soil, inspected it intently, and then placed a small portion into his mouth to taste.

"Acidic humus," the old man mumbled, spitting the dirt out and rising with a look of deep satisfaction. "This particular soil composition only develops when a vast number of magical beast carcasses have been interred underground and allowed to decompose for decades, if not centuries." He then addressed Deputy Commander Edward. "This soil is ideal for nurturing high-tier magical herbs. The Council has a significant demand for Ghost-Faced Broadleaf Mushrooms and Gilded Thread-grass; we could establish extensive farming operations here."

Without awaiting Edward's response, the man extended his hand, grasping at the empty air. He coalesced the surrounding ambient magical elements into a fist-sized, multicolored elemental cloud, shimmering with nine distinct hues. It was a sight of breathtaking beauty.

"The magical elements are complete, the fluctuations are stable, and the environmental conditions for casting are exceptionally conducive," he observed, dissolving the cloud with a casual wave of his hand. He scanned the landscape, his expression one of profound admiration. "My friend, this location is an absolute haven for the cultivation and sustenance of mages. It is truly befitting of a newly Ascendant Plane. Everything here practically vibrates with Hope."

He delivered a hearty clap on Edward's shoulder, a gesture conveying considerable approval. "Edward, I thank you for guiding the Council to this place. I assure you that within a few short years, this continent will be adorned with mage towers and magical academies."

"As a representative of the Saint Gran Council, it is my solemn duty to secure new Alchemical Conservatories and magical sanctuaries for our order," Edward replied with practiced smoothness. "This is the domain of my associate. He has welcomed us with open arms."

For Elara, observing this interaction unfold was an utterly astonishing experience. In her perception, her mentor, Edward, embodied the quintessential 'wise old grandfather' archetype. Yet, here he was, receiving a pat on the shoulder and words of praise from an even more ancient and wrinkled elder.

She pondered if the magical world truly operated on a system of strict seniority.

Flanked by the Gnoll Anubis, Elara found herself utterly disengaged, trailing behind the two elderly men. Witnessing Morando stoop to taste soil every few minutes and meticulously document random flora felt like sheer torment to someone consumed by the desire to return home.

If they were situated anywhere else, her feelings would be indifferent. However, Stoneheart City was within immediate proximity. It was the Horde's capital. It was her home. Her territory. The gnawing anticipation was almost unbearable.

"The young lady has not yet come of age, and she has been away from home for an extended period. She is experiencing homesickness," Edward chuckled, reaching back to gently pat Elara's head, his eyes radiating genuine affection. "Please overlook her impatience, Vice-Speaker."

"I am well aware of you, little Elara," Morando stated, a warm smile gracing his features. "The Saint Gran Council eagerly awaits your arrival. It awaits your maturation, it awaits your ascendancy to strength."

As a fourth-stage demigod, Vice-Speaker Morando could easily perceive Elara's immense potential. He was highly impressed by her innate talent. Moreover, she was Edward's direct disciple, meaning it was almost guaranteed she would become a core member of the Saint Gran Council in the future. Because she was a known quantity with a clean background and absurd potential, Morando was more than willing to indulge her.

"Grandpa Morando!" Elara flashed him a sickeningly sweet smile, her bright eyes practically screaming that her previous impatience was just a ploy to hijack the conversation. "We have elemental sprites and faerie dragons at home, but they're growing so slowly! They really need your Greater Wood-Aspect Growth Blessing!"

"Oh, and my daddy has a completely unique ice-attribute magical herb growing in his Divine Kingdom. I can totally get you some seeds!"

Vice-Speaker Morando was a formidable mage, but his true passion—and his unmatched expertise—lay in magical botany and terraforming specific magical environments. Edward hadn't just brought Morando here to officially tie the Saint Gran Council to the Horde; he had brought Orion a nuclear-tier magical logistics master.

"Little one, I've already sensed your sprites and your faerie dragon. They are indeed far too weak," Morando chuckled, reaching out to pat Elara's head. As he did, he smoothly slipped a magical ring into her hand. "Especially that faerie dragon. It hasn't received any systematic rearing whatsoever."

It was a welcoming gift. And to Edward, it was the final confirmation: Morando had officially agreed to align with the Stoneheart Horde. A gift from a fourth-stage demigod wasn't something you just handed out on a whim.

"Come on then," Morando smiled. "Show me the local customs. These old bones haven't been out for a walk in a long time. May magic and beauty ever accompany us!"