Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1722: Watchers from the Void

Deputy Commander Edward looked down on Stoneheart City, his attention fixed every moment on Elara—his student. The Deputy Commander had no children of his own; Elara was a student in name, but the good life she lived was the one a child by blood should have. From spells to magic items, from pets to life-saving trump cards, from the lessons of hard experience to fiefs of land, Elara's growth all along the way carried the Deputy Commander's shadow. Beyond Orion, the one who'd shaped Elara most was Deputy Commander Edward.

"Soon. The little one's banking it up fast—making demigod is a matter of time." In Orion's eyes, Elara's foundation lay open at a glance; she wanted only a little more seasoning and seasoning's fire.

"While the chance is here, I can lend her a hand." The Deputy Commander wore a look of dead earnest; his student's future was on the line, and he set great store by it. "Time goes by so fast. I still remember this little girl putting out her hand to wheedle good things off me every time she ran into me in the Valkorath Realm. At first it was treats—any kind of candy would see her off. Later, grown a bit, she started in on pet eggs, on Wyvern mounts, on mana crystals, forever shaking the mana cores off me."

"Heh—" Recalling the old days of Elara, Leonidas wore a rueful look too. Back then he'd still been an Arch Lord, with no end of matters that needed troubling a demigod like the Deputy Commander over; trips to Edward's were a regular thing, and so were run-ins with Elara. "You know what's strange? Once the little girl truly grew up, she stopped asking me for things. She'd just give me a shy smile when we met, uncle this and uncle that, all diligence—respectful as anything, but duller and duller for it."

Leonidas shook his head and fished an assortment of odd little trinkets out from on him—pet eggs, an unnamed den or two, an unnamed crystal glinting with magic light. "Here. To see off that slip of a girl, I went and got into the habit of carrying little trinkets on me wherever I went. This time, I'll give her the lot." Leonidas rubbed his head and wore the doting-father smile that belonged to an oily middle-aged uncle.

"Say—this lot here, set on hitting the Boundless Expanse? The firepower's a touch short, isn't it?" Leonidas ran his eyes over the demigods floating here and there, narrowing them a little.

"These are all small fry—mostly stand-ins posted over by allied powers, playing the part of Horde guest-retainers, with a small share of lone wolves come wandering. They don't matter. The real old hands have all gone to the Mirage Void." A first-stage demigod, in Orion's eyes now, was plainly ordinary stock.

Hearing Orion's voice in their minds, Leonidas, the Deputy Commander, and Alexander lost all interest in those around them at once.

Below, in the square. Banners flying, behind a troop of guards turned out in good order, Elara manifested her true four-headed, eight-armed Stoneheart titan form, clad in battle-dress, trident in hand, standing astride an Abyssal dragon, awe-inspiring, every inch the bearing of a sovereign. Every soul of the Stoneheart Horde who beheld that splendor seemed to see their sovereign of old, to see their Titan King.

"Titan King." Someone in the crowd, no telling who, cried it with all their force, and at once it struck a chord through the whole of the people.

"Titan King."

"Titan King."

"…"

Up on the platform, Archelder, Onyx, and the crowd of old folk were shaken hard by Elara in this array too.

"My heavens—a peak Archlord-tier Abyssal dragon. Where'd that get dredged up from?" Catching the Abyssal dragon's wholly unconcealed aura, Earthshaker cried out, blunt as ever. He was Orion's slave, and the sight of Orion astride an Abyssal dragon had long since been carved into his soul. Seeing Elara in this guise, Earthshaker felt it was Orion come again.

"For today's celebration, Her Majesty's teacher went to the Abyssal World himself to take the Abyssal dragon." When the Deputy Commander and Orion talked the matter over in Blackstone City, Dirtclaw had been there; of course he knew how it stood. "Brothers, the Abyssal dragon Her Majesty rides is nothing special—when I've the time, I'll go to the Abyss, take a batch, and bring them back for your families' little ones. What you ought to be eyeing is the battle-dress on Her Majesty. That's the imperial robe the Horde made special for her—many forms to it, a relic only a handful of demigods possess." Dirtclaw had a vicious eye; a thing like a relic, priceless fell short of capturing how precious it was.

"A relic? Demigod-tier battle-dress?"

"…"

Dirtclaw smiled, nodded, then shook his head. Old brothers though they were, their realms differed, and their eye and their breadth of knowledge had drawn apart by degrees; when they stood together and talked, somehow it came round to him taking the lead. The thing was neither good nor bad, but a thread of loneliness rose in Dirtclaw. All at once he understood his My Lord a little better—the stronger you grow, the higher you stand, the fewer there are who can walk alongside you.

No telling how Lord Lumi and Gustalon are getting on—they made demigod too. Wonder if they feel the way I do. Dirtclaw shook his head, flinging off the airy, head-in-the-clouds notions, and fixed his attention on the honor-guard. Just then it was the moment Elara raised the trident high and cried Stoneheart.

"I, Elara Stoneheart, with the trident in my hand for my crown, with the battle-dress on my body for my coronet, stand at the peak of ten thousand and ascend the throne, to carry on the Horde's undying will. In the name of Elara Stoneheart, I swear to forge a brand-new beginning for the Horde. Where the Horde's glory reaches, the myriad races bow. By blood and fire as my witness, I will build for the Horde a road of glory."

A burst of flame erupted from the trident, and Elara, standing astride the Abyssal dragon, drew her will to a point and with all the force in her cried out: "For the Horde!"