Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1710 Rise of the Calamity Queen

"Soraya's happy. She says that without this chance, she'd never have touched the demigod realm in her whole life." Delilah knew Orion well; she said it half to comfort him, half because it was Soraya's true mind. Before she'd come by demigod-tier Banshee Crystals herself, she'd have been just like Soraya—glad of a chance like that, hoping for it.

A demigod. The whole Horde had poured out all it had and still couldn't raise one by the ordinary road. Even Lorelia, the highest-gifted of them, had only made demigod after the Will of the Realm fed her along. The likes of Dirtclaw, Lumi, and Gustalon had ascended by another route entirely, leaning on Orion's divine power and the faith behind it. They weren't true demigods, really—godbound, or god-servants, at best. Knowing all that was exactly why Delilah understood how rare a stroke of fortune Soraya's ascension was. With the Stoneheart Horde's present depth, only Orion's few blood-children truly had the gift and the ceiling to make demigod. Everyone else was along for the ride.

"You and your sisters get ready. Word's come from young Elara—she's nearly there. Knowing her temper, she'll want the title of Titan King for certain. The Stoneheart Horde is about to gain a queen." With that, the heir to the next Titan King was as good as set. Before this, Pallas and Kaelen had both been under consideration. Then again, even leaving aside that Kaelen had never broken into the Mirage Void's Blackstone City, the credit he'd banked didn't touch Elara's—she'd taken a whole world. And Pallas still less; he was off fighting on the Bastion Wall yet.

"It's settled?" Delilah had plenty she wanted to say, but knew better than to open her mouth. From her own standpoint and the whole succubus race's, Pallas was the one who ought to be the best heir to the throne.

"You doubting my decision?" Orion lifted his left hand and turned Delilah's head straight, setting her eyes level with his. She didn't shy away; her bright eyes were full of a hot, brimming love.

"I'm only sorry for the little one." The little one meant Pallas, Delilah's nephew. That he couldn't inherit the Titan King's seat was a blow to no small number of the Horde's people.

"Nothing to be sorry over. I've said it—everything has to be paid for in credit. Elara took the world of Timira by her own strength and gave it over to the Horde. Who among them can match that kind of credit?" To Orion, Elara and Pallas and the rest of his children stood equal; every one of them had inherited the Stoneheart titan bloodline whole. So letting Elara take the throne sat fine with him.

"True enough. I really didn't think little Elara could talk the Saint Gran Council and the Order of the Dandelion into working for her, both at once. No telling what the little thing promised them." Delilah was curious. By her read, Elara hadn't that kind of pull or reach.

"Elara took a world not because her own strength is so great, but because she drew two great powers in and borrowed their weight to get a big thing done. She didn't need to promise them anything. Elara draws those two powers on her own." Orion let Delilah go. Thinking of his children, his eyes went a little distant. Elara, Deputy Commander Edward, himself, the Saint Gran Council, the Order of the Dandelion—and Elara set to become the next Titan King on top of it—it would knot the several powers into a deeper weave of shared interest, and Orion was glad to see it. Beyond that, Elara taking the Horde's throne was, for the Stoneheart Horde, a good thing in truth. A story like that would shift how the Horde's rising generation saw the Horde's Authority, and fire their ambition.

"Let me put it this way—with Elara's quality, she'll step into the demigod realm sooner or later. Once she makes demigod, she'll know what she truly wants. She won't sit the Titan King's seat long." Orion could see through some things, foretell a piece of the future just ahead. Under his great shade, only Caelus and Elara, among the children, could grow up fast and clean. And growth, in Orion's eyes, didn't mean some Arch Lord rank—it meant climbing to the demigod realm on your own.

"I'm so jealous of Elara. When the little thing gets back, I've got to pinch those little cheeks—once she's on the throne I won't get near them." In days past, Elara was a junior, and Delilah could knead and tease her as she pleased. Once Elara took the throne, not Delilah, not Lilith, not Orion would lightly tarnish her royal dignity. By then, Elara's face would be the Stoneheart Horde's face.

"Trust me—you sisters will make demigod yourselves one day, too."

"…"

—

Timira. The world of the Snail-Dragons.

"This evil beast brought the disaster down on us—burn it!"

"It was this thing that drew the Calamity Queen here. Our village will be overrun before long, and every soul here rendered down into blood-thralls!"

"Right—burn it!"

In the village's little square, a crowd of villagers held torches aloft, watching a handful of militiamen lash a Snail-Dragon, already covered in wounds, with leather whips. The Snail-Dragon bleated, a wronged and unwilling sound.

It had been a quiet village once. But with the beacon-fires of war about to reach it, the quiet shattered, and what showed through was each person's fear of death, the whole community's dread of the coming war. Rumor held that the black-haired Calamity Queen who rode a twisted Snail-Dragon was the Mother of the Worldtree the evolved spoke of, the nightmare of every mage on the continent—that war never rested where she passed, and magic fell silent. She was the Magic-Silencer of the creation myths, and the Snail-Dragon had drawn her here; she would destroy every good thing in this world.

"Calamity Queen?" Heh. A pack of ignorant peasants, the lowest of the low. Not in their wildest dreams could they guess that the Mother of the Worldtree they all loathe is about to lead them to a world that's truly good.

On a ridge in the distance, Elara sat astride her Snail-Dragon, taking in everything unfolding in the little village below. Behind her stood five demigods of the Order of the Dandelion, along with two regular councilors from the Saint Gran Council.

"Your Highness, they understand nothing. Why trouble yourself over them?" Aednor gazed off into the distance. He cared nothing at all for what went on in the little village or for those lowly creatures; what he watched, every moment, was the demigod aura flickering in and out far off. That was what he had to face.

"The ones who hold Timira's power and resources have always been the upper nobility. When those people won't surrender or fall back, the lower folk get left as discarded pawns and cannon fodder." That from Thaddeus, standing beside Aednor, one of the five demigods of the Order of the Dandelion.

"Muddy the lower people's understanding, blacken Her Highness's name, cook up one damnable nickname after another—it's all they can do." Braham watched Elara's back. Through these days together, they'd come to a certain read on her grit and her way of getting things done. Another of the five, Braham thought well of Elara, and he wanted to see what she'd do next.