Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1694 Leaving the Cradle

Far away, in the southern reaches of the former Black Forest.

While Delilah "entertained" Soraya in Moonshadow Valley, a Horde rescue squad arrived at the edge of a massive bamboo sea.

"Stubborn old fool. The Horde built an entire city exclusively for the Pandaren, yet he insists on clinging to this place. Calls it the 'ancestral land,' the 'holy ground,' the 'cradle of our rise.'"

A Pandaren wearing a bamboo hat carved with the character for 'Fire' grumbled as he strode into the bamboo forest. "And look where it got him. Now, on top of increasingly dangerous magical beasts, they have to fend off dream incursions, swarms of insects, and dark cultists."

He snorted. "I wonder if that old geezer Taran is dead yet."

"Fire, you don't understand," replied a second Pandaren, his hat marked with the character for 'Earth'. "The elders have their convictions. They were born in a different era. Conservatism and stubbornness were the survival traits of their generation."

"Oh, so you understand, Earth?" Fire shot back, his eyes filled with disdain. As brothers, he knew Earth's true nature—he loved to sound profound and show off. "Enlighten me, then. What exactly is the old Chieftain preserving? What is he being so stubborn about?"

"I don't know," Earth admitted, spitting out a bamboo leaf he'd been chewing on. He grimaced; the leaves here lacked magical essence and tasted bland. "But the old Chieftain led our people to prosperity. That is a fact, and facts speak louder than rhetoric."

He paused, gesturing to himself and his brother. "Besides, the Horde sponsored the three of us all the way to the Legendary rank. Do you think the Chieftain and the elders lacked intelligence or wisdom?"

Earth turned to the third brother, who was bringing up the rear with a squad of elite Horde warriors. "Isn't that right, Thunder?"

"Read the history of the Horde's rise," Thunder said calmly. Despite his elemental affinity, his temperament was the most stable of the three. Even Lord Orion had praised him for his quiet, commanding presence.

"Since the North-South War, generation after generation of Pandaren have marched onto the battlefield. Their bravery is unquestionable," Thunder continued. "Under Horde law, survival resources and territory are bought with blood and sweat. I can barely imagine how many lives were sacrificed, how much merit was accumulated in those days, just to secure the resources needed to push the three of us to the Legendary rank."

He shook his head slowly. "If I were in their shoes, I don't think I could have done it."

"Alright, enough chatter," Thunder ordered. "Guard the Soul Anchor closely and keep moving. Our people in the ancestral land are waiting for rescue."

The Soul Anchor was a Horde-issued artifact equipped by all field units. As long as its flame burned, it prevented the Dream Realm from pulling them in. Thunder channeled his mana into the artifact while urging his brothers forward. Every minute saved could mean a life spared.

Fire and Earth fell silent, taking point on the left and right, accelerating their march.

"Still, the old Chieftain is ridiculous," Fire muttered after a while, unable to help himself. "Setting up a magical anti-flight ward in the bamboo sea? We're Legendary Lords, for crying out loud. Have you ever seen someone of our rank walking on foot? Let alone a Pandaren lord!"

Earth and Thunder ignored him, maintaining the pace.

A full day and night later, they finally reached the ancestral village, and their tension eased slightly. However, the village was deathly still. It looked like an exhausted old man, hunched over and staring blankly at the withered grass beneath his feet.

"Did they all die?" Fire asked. It wasn't malice or callousness; it was just his blunt nature.

Thunder smacked the back of Fire's head, knocking his hat askew. He didn't hold back. "You'll die before the Chieftain does."

"The plaster on the walls is peeling, but there are no signs of collapse from battle. The bamboo quality here is poor, but there are no widespread broken stalks or smashed branches," Thunder observed, though a hint of uncertainty crept into his voice.

The village lacked the sounds of livestock or playing cubs. It wasn't normal. On the surface, everything appeared intact, but Thunder felt an invisible, suffocating gloom pressing down on them.

"Fan out! Search the area!"

The three Pandaren lords led their respective squads, scouring every corner of the ancestral land.

Moments later, a shout echoed through the bamboo forest.

"Earth! Thunder! Over here! The light in the Chieftain's house is still on!"

The group rushed to Chieftain Taran's residence. The lamp burned brightly, but the house was empty.

"What's going on?" Fire was losing his patience, his anxiety spiking. Despite his constant complaints about Taran being a stubborn old fossil, he deeply respected the elder. If the ancestral clan was wiped out, the three brothers would never forgive themselves.

"Stay calm. No bodies, no proof of death. The situation might not be as bad as you think," Thunder said, striding toward the backyard.

He remembered a hidden cellar beneath the Chieftain's residence. Taran had brought him here once and sworn him to secrecy; it was where the clan hid their cubs during crises.

Thunder approached a well and jumped in without hesitation. Moments later, he leapt back out, accompanied by an older Pandaren. Fire and Earth beamed with relief.

"Old timer, you're alive!" Fire blurted out, as irreverent as ever.

"Old Chieftain, it is good to see you," Earth greeted respectfully.

"Why are you three here?" Taran asked, his face etched with worry as he looked at the three most outstanding talents of the Pandaren race. They were the hope and glory of their people; nothing could happen to them. "Did you encounter any monsters on the road? Any unseen horrors in the bamboo sea?"

"Don't worry, Chieftain," Thunder reassured him. "We brought a Horde artifact. It resists the Dream Realm and passively dispels lower-tier dream beasts. If we didn't encounter anything, it just means the monsters were too weak and were banished before they could manifest."

Thunder understood the elder's anxiety. "Chieftain, what about the rest of the clan? Did they..."

At the bottom of the well, Thunder had only seen a group of frightened cubs. No adults.

Taran's expression darkened. "My lord granted me a token long ago. It repels monsters within a certain radius. When the disaster struck, the first wave of survivors managed to bring the cubs to me. As for the others... I hid them in the caves behind the mountain and sealed the entrances completely. I don't know their current status."

Taran stared at the Soul Anchor in Thunder's hand, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes.

"Lead the way, Chieftain," Thunder said, pouring more mana into the artifact, causing its light to flare brighter. "We'll rescue them right now."

Taran nodded and led them toward the mountain behind the village.

A short time later, the sounds of battle erupted from within the caverns. Shadows roared, flames scorched the stone walls, and lightning cascaded through the subterranean space.

Finally, Earth manipulated the ground itself, dragging the entire cave system deep into the planetary veins, using subterranean magma to incinerate the darkness and the corrupted remains of their kin.

"Let's go. We can't stay here. The wilds are no longer safe," Thunder said, glancing at Chieftain Taran. He paused, then added diplomatically, "This is an order from My lord. All citizens must relocate to the cities. Only under My lord's radiant protection can we be safe from the Dream Realm."

It was a gentle push, a way to persuade the stubborn elder.

"Move. Gather the cubs and move immediately," Taran declared, surprising the three lords. Was this the same stubborn conservative they knew?

"Don't look at me like that, you brats," Taran snapped. "I may be conservative, but I'm not stupid enough to gamble the lives and future of our cubs. When survival is on the line, everything else gives way."

Taran turned sharply and headed back toward his residence.

As for the dead, let them rest. Time might erase everything, but the surviving cubs would remember. The Pandaren bloodline would endure.