Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1390: The Titan’s Rage

Emerald Dream Realm: Chaos Continent.

The City of Emeric.

Named after its Lord and perched upon a vast, rolling plain, the ancient stronghold was now a slaughterhouse.

The bluestone walls, which had stood for centuries, lay in ruins. The gates were shattered. Through the breach poured a tide of silver-eyed warriors, their weapons flashing as they cut down the defenders in a frenzy of bloodlust.

A massive ravine, gouged into the earth outside the city gates, stood as a silent testament to the cataclysmic battle that had already taken place. The complex protective runes etched into the stonework were dull and lifeless. The city had fallen.

Yet, even amidst the ruins, the war was not over. Above the burning city, the sky was still a battlefield for the gods of this realm.

"You moron! Can’t you see the board?"

Emeric roared in frustration as he parried another blow. "The Silver-Eyed kingdom doesn’t tolerate outsiders! They don’t want me, but they sure as hell won’t suffer you to live either!"

Emeric felt like he was arguing with a landslide. He was convinced that Kaelen, this raging behemoth attacking him, was just a useful idiot—a hired thug tricked by the Silver-Eyed King. If Kaelen would just switch sides, Emeric knew they could turn the tide.

But Kaelen wasn’t listening.

"Die! Just die!"

Kaelen had transformed. He was now a four-headed, eight-armed avatar of the Stoneheart Titan, pushing his bloodline to its absolute limit. He was a berserker, a madman launching himself at Emeric with reckless abandon.

He wasn’t just charging; he was utilizing the Instant Impact technique encoded in Orion’s bloodline.

Kaelen moved like a blur, his speed terrifying even to an Upper Arch Lord like Emeric. Each collision drained Emeric’s stamina, chipping away at his defenses.

Worse, three Silver-Eyed Arch Lords were circling the perimeter like vultures, waiting for Kaelen and Emeric to exhaust each other so they could swoop in and finish the survivors.

Emeric was trapped. He couldn’t commit fully to fighting Kaelen without leaving his back open to the Silver-Eyed King. He saw his end approaching—either crushed by this Titan spawn or executed by the Silver-Eyed coalition.

"Kaelen, listen to reason!" Emeric pleaded, desperate to find a diplomatic angle. "If I truly wanted to exterminate the Dark Butterfly Clan, do you think you or your mother would be alive today? Our grudge isn’t worth this! We should unite against the real enemy!"

It was a frantic attempt to negotiate survival. But the Silver-Eyed King, Orthelius, wasn’t about to let his prey wiggle off the hook.

"Heh... Since ancient times, the gravest sin is the insult to one’s lineage," Orthelius intoned, his voice dripping with malicious satisfaction. "Even our children know this: He who dishonors your blood must be put to the sword."

Orthelius was an Upper Arch Lord, the apex predator on this field. He had engineered this trap to cement his tribe’s dominance. He had finally cornered Emeric’s true form, and he wasn’t about to let a little thing like an alliance ruin his victory.

"You insulted my father! You insulted my mother!"

Kaelen didn’t hear Emeric’s logic. He only heard the red noise of rage. Orthelius’s words struck a chord, amplifying the hatred burning in his chest.

Years ago, Emeric had lusted after Sophia, Kaelen’s mother. His pursuit had been so aggressive, so predatory, that it forced Sophia to flee into the ancestral grounds of the Dark Butterfly Clan for sanctuary. She had abandoned all territory outside Phoenix Butterfly Ridge, draining the tribe’s resources just to survive.

Kaelen remembered his mother’s tears. He remembered the fear. He remembered growing up in the shadow of this man’s greed.

"Emeric, you must die!"

Kaelen triggered Instant Impact again, moving faster than before. The air around him ignited from friction, sparks and wind shear forming a chaotic aura.

Unlike Orion, Kaelen didn’t have system or infinite stats. His body wasn’t indestructible. The strain of spamming Instant Impact was tearing his own muscles apart, but he didn’t care.

Emeric wasn’t faring much better. He wasn’t a giant. Half his physical body had already been pulverized into meat paste by the relentless battering.

"Idiot! You damn fool! You forced my hand!" Emeric screamed, his sanity snapping. "If I go down, I’m taking you to hell with me!"

BOOM!

Emeric detonated his remaining physical form.

From the bloody explosion, his Body of Faith emerged—a colossal, shadowy fiend with massive membranous wings, towering over the battlefield.

"Die, you brainless mutt!" Emeric’s voice now echoed with the distortion of pure spirit energy. "If I knew it would come to this, I would have dragged your mother out of that ridge myself! I would have taken her in front of your whole wretched clan!"

"You bastard! If not for you, I would rule this continent!"

Drawing upon an ocean of faith energy, Emeric raised a spectral hand. A gigantic beast claw materialized in the sky, slamming down onto Kaelen like the hand of an angry god.

The impact drove Kaelen into the earth, creating a shockwave that flattened the ruins below.

But it wasn’t enough.

The ground exploded outward. Kaelen stood at the bottom of a huge crater, all four heads raised, eyes burning with defiance.

"KILL!"

Kaelen began to drum his eight fists against his chest. The rhythm was primal, thunderous.

With every beat, his body swelled. Muscles tore and knit back together instantly, growing denser, larger. His power doubled.

This was Heart of the Titan.

Another gift from Orion’s bloodline. Those who carried the Stoneheart legacy could access diluted versions of the Titan King’s abilities.

It wasn’t as potent as when Orion used it—Orion could end fights like this with a single punch—but Kaelen was maximizing what he had. Lack of gear and raw stats meant he had to bleed for every ounce of power, but his will was iron.

"Emeric! Today is your funeral!"

"I will wash away the shame of my mother with your blood!"

Kaelen launched himself skyward again, a missile of flesh and fury.

On the periphery, the three Silver-Eyed Arch Lords watched the spectacle with a mixture of awe and calculation.

"My King," Marielle, the King’s uncle, whispered. "Do you know whose seed he is? What bloodline grants such combat power?"

"I have no idea," King Orthelius admitted. "Before the war, our scouts surveyed the region. The Dark Butterfly Clan was nothing—a terrified group hiding in a hole."

"Who could have predicted," Orthelius mused, "that a minor clan could produce an Over-tier monster like this?"

In the Emerald Dream Realm, an Over-tier warrior—someone who could punch far above their weight class—was the ultimate prize. And the ultimate threat.