Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1382: The Wheel of Fate

The night passed in a blur of motion and sensation.

Orion opened his eyes and watched her. He had spent the entire night with her. It had been a night of relentless intimacy, bringing Sylvana wave after wave of euphoria.

But beneath the physical pleasure, the thing she clung to most was the promise—the hope of seeing the light again.

Orion reached out, tapping the center of her forehead. A ripple of Divine Power washed over her, sending her into a deep, comatose slumber.

He examined her closely. Physically, Sylvana’s eyes were perfect. There was no damage to the cornea or the optic nerve.

Orion fell into deep thought. He didn’t begin the extraction immediately. This wasn’t a simple physical ailment; it was a curse born of Fate.

In the past, Orion hadn’t understood the rules of Divine Power well enough to diagnose the root cause of her blindness. He hadn’t realized that her condition was a backlash—a heavy price paid for peeking behind the curtain of destiny. But now, with his ascended vision, he could see the truth. Thick, coiling energy gathered in her sightless eyes, forming the heavy shackles of a curse.

An idea formed in his mind. The Purification Tower in Soraya City might be the key to breaking this chain.

He didn’t hesitate. Scooping Sylvana up into his arms, Orion channeled his Divine Power and tore a rift in space, teleporting instantly to Soraya City.

Soraya City, Valkorath Realm.

The city was a beacon of tranquility and prosperity.

The people brought here to live within the Valkorath Realm thrived. There were no natural disasters, no famine, and no suffering. Over the decades, the population had multiplied exponentially. Even the fungal creatures farmed in the surrounding seas were viewed by the locals not as monsters, but as a public benefit—a resource to be harvested, a privilege reserved for the strong.

"Greetings, Great King," a pair of Scorpion Guards chittered, bowing low as he appeared.

Orion nodded perfunctorily and strode directly toward the white spire in the distance.

The Purification Tower. It wasn’t a particularly massive structure, but in the eyes of the populace, it had become a Sacred Relic. As Orion approached, he noticed a haze of spiritual resonance clinging to the stone. It was Faith Energy, accumulated from the gratitude and piety of the countless souls who had been cleansed within its walls.

Orion carried Sylvana to the highest chamber of the tower.

Meanwhile, atop a distant peak overlooking the realm.

Caelus paused mid-swing. He held his blade still, his gaze shifting toward Soraya City.

Caelus’s personal pocket dimension was tethered to the Valkorath Realm; nothing happened here without him—and his teacher, Commander Thresh—knowing about it.

"Your father is playing with fire again," Thresh said.

The Commander stood at the edge of the cliff, his back to Caelus, facing the direction of the city.

"Master, is Father in danger?" Caelus asked, immediately sheathing his sword.

If Thresh called it "playing with fire," it meant the risk was real. Caelus’s concern was immediate and genuine.

"I said playing," Thresh replied, his voice dripping with casual arrogance. "Even if he gets burned, with your father’s current strength, he can easily snuff out the flames and walk away."

Thresh turned, looking down at his student with thinly veiled contempt. "My point is that you should learn from him. You need to be more aggressive. Go do the things others are afraid to do."

To the outside world, Caelus was a prodigy, a talent beyond reach. But to Thresh, Caelus was a student full of flaws—primarily, excessive caution.

"Master, I haven’t even fully mastered the first strike you taught me," Caelus argued, shaking his head. "I don’t have the courage to go running off into the Abyss alone."

He wasn’t his father. Orion was bold because he was powerful. Caelus had no intention of heading into the Abyss to participate in the Death-Soul Trials without a chaperone. In his mind, he wouldn’t be qualified to go out and cause trouble until he had perfected his blade work and ascended to the rank of Arch Lord.

Commander Thresh scoffed, clearly unimpressed by his student’s prudence.

Caelus didn’t take offense. He just chuckled and resumed his practice, slashing at the air with renewed focus.

Soraya City, Purification Tower.

Orion was aware of the eyes watching him from the mountain. His arrival was not subtle. But he paid it no mind; it was merely the acknowledgement of neighbors.

He placed Sylvana on the stone altar.

"If Fate is a rule," Orion mused, looking down at her, "then who established it?"

As he probed the curse coiling within her eyes, a bold curiosity took hold of him. Fate was profound, complex, and terrifying. It silently influenced every life, pulling strings from the shadows. Perhaps even independent thought and free will were merely ripples caused by Fate’s unseen hand.

Orion felt less like a warrior and more like a scholar on the verge of a breakthrough.

"Come on then," he whispered. "Let me see your true face."

He extended his hand. Divine Power surged, mingling with the purified energy of the tower. He pressed his palm over Sylvana’s eyes.

Instantly, a force Orion could not detect descended upon the room. A massive, ethereal wheel materialized around them, centered on Orion and Sylvana. It was inscribed with countless shifting runes—the Wheel of Fate.

An invisible needle, with Orion as its axis, began to spin.

Beneath his palm, light exploded. It wasn’t just bright; it was blinding, a kaleidoscope of colors that defied description.

When the brilliance finally faded and Orion’s vision cleared, he froze.

He blinked, looking around. The tower was gone. The altar was gone.

He stood in a place that was both strange and hauntingly familiar.

"Kill them!"

A roar echoed from the distance—unshakable, filled with bloodlust. It snapped Orion out of his daze.

Is that... Blademaster Grommash?

Orion focused on the source of the sound. Memories, long buried, came rushing back. He widened his sensory range. Sure enough, familiar figures appeared in his mind’s eye. Delilah, Onyx, Rockwell, Earthshaker, and Slagor. They were gathered in a tight formation, besieging Grommash.

Orion knew this scene. He had lived it.

"So," he muttered, checking his own energy. I’ve been sent back? Back to the Civil War?

He checked his power level. Legendary.

"Did you see it?"

Orion turned his head. Standing next to him was a large, two-headed Ogre. It was Aldous.

Orion looked at the Ogre, a strange sense of prescience washing over him. He knew exactly what the creature was going to say next.

"I want to blow a bubble," Orion said, shrugging.

Aldous’s eyes went wide. "Ah... you like blowing bubbles too?"

Orion threw his head back and laughed. It was a loud, inexplicable laugh.

So this was what it felt like to be a Prophet? To know the script before the actors spoke their lines? It was intoxicating.

"I’ll tell you a secret," the Ogre whispered conspiratorially. "I have a name. I am Aldous. We can be friends."

Whether it was the original timeline replaying itself, or Aldous simply taking a liking to this strange human, the lovable Ogre began his introduction.

BOOM!

An explosion tore through the air in the distance. But before Orion even turned to look, the question had already formed in his heart.