Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1399: It is fate

[Field Report // Target: Leafmaw King]

[Stature: Small (approx. 5 ft)]

[Capabilities: High-level Stealth, Undetectable Aura, Flight]

[Special Defense: Molting Evasion upon critical injury]

Rolan scribbled the final notes of the field report, rolled the parchment tight, and secured it to the leg of a messenger raven. With a toss of his hand, he sent the bird winging its way back to Stoneheart City.

Unlike Orion’s generation, who conquered through sheer, brute force, Rolan’s cohort was different. They were products of the Academy. They understood that warfare wasn’t just about swinging a hammer; it was about logistics, intelligence gathering, combined-arms tactics, and literacy.

Before the Youth Camp, Rolan had been illiterate. Now, his grasp of military science eclipsed ninety-nine percent of the Horde’s veterans. He was a weapon sharpened by education.

"Rolan, your dragon... it’s magnificent," Ava said softly.

The battle was over. The area around the carriage was clear of Leafmaw carcasses, but the scent of ozone and burnt chitin lingered. Rolan had ridden back to the convoy, keeping pace with the royal carriage to debrief Kronos and reassure Ava.

He spoke casually, downplaying the violence of the encounter. He wanted Ava to feel safe, and he wanted Kronos to learn. In Rolan’s eyes, Kronos and Pallas were little brothers—talented, but unseasoned. They weren’t like Elara, who was a terrifying enigma, or Caelus, who was practically a myth.

"He’s still a juvenile," Rolan said, patting the Abyssal Demondrake’s scaled neck. "Once I hit Lord-tier, I’ll petition the Mentor for permission to take him into the Abyssal World. A Demondrake needs the Abyss to truly reach its potential."

Rolan wasn’t bragging; he was stating facts. Orion, at Legendary level, had stormed the Abyss. As the Titan(Giant) King’s disciple, Rolan intended to walk that same path of glory.

Kronos fell silent.

Truth be told, if Lilith hadn’t drafted him into the military during the Civil War, Kronos wouldn’t have known what to do with his life. Even now, he felt adrift. Outside of the regimented life of a soldier, he had no direction.

"You are the Mentor’s son," Rolan said, his voice cutting through Kronos’s thoughts. "Your path is destined for greatness. You’re strong enough now to shoulder some of the burden. The Horde needs you."

Rolan looked at the young man and saw more than just uncertainty. In his mind’s eye, he saw the spectral outline of six arms fanning out behind Kronos’s back.

The bloodline of the Stoneheart Titan.

Orion had already sent word: once the cross-realm teleportation gate was operational, any worthy warrior could travel to the Stoneheart Temple and undergo the rites to fully awaken their Titan heritage. To Rolan, the Stoneheart Titan was the next evolutionary step for the Giant Tribe—a legacy forged by Orion himself.

Kronos took a breath. "When we get back to the Horde and I get Mother settled, I’m going to request a transfer. I want to join the northern sweep operations."

He wanted to be useful. He wanted to bleed for the Horde.

"That’s a noble sentiment," Rolan said, reaching down to clap a heavy hand on Kronos’s shoulder. "But I’m afraid that’s not going to happen."

Kronos blinked. "What?"

"New orders came down from the Horde," Rolan explained, his eyes flickering briefly to Ava inside the carriage. "The Mentor wants four satellite cities built to guard the cardinal directions around Stoneheart City. One of them is yours."

"Mine?"

"Your fiefdom, Kronos. The Horde will provide the raw materials, but you have to build it. And you’re going to use the people following you to do it."

Rolan gestured to the refugees from Soaring Bird City trailing behind the convoy. "If you want them to feel like they belong to the Horde, make them build their own home. Sweat binds a man to the land faster than ink on a treaty."

Rolan was speaking to Kronos, but the message was clearly for Ava. It was Lilith’s way of preparing her: We have a plan for your people. They will not be guests; they will be citizens.

"A city..." Kronos murmured, stunned.

"You aren’t the only one," Rolan grinned. "Several of the other Princes are getting their own territories. You’re my mentor’s sons, the Horde’s royalty. If a guest comes to visit, they need to know where to find you, right?"

Rolan gave Kronos’s shoulder one last squeeze, then straightened up in his saddle. He offered a respectful bow to Ava.

"I’m going to scout ahead. If you run into trouble, shout. I’ll be there in an instant."

The Abyssal Dragon let out a low rumble.

WHOOSH!

With a kick of his heels, Rolan accelerated, disappearing into the vanguard.

"He is so like him," Ava whispered, staring at the dust settling in Rolan’s wake.

Kronos climbed back into the carriage, a new energy radiating from him. "Like who, Mother?"

Ava said. "He has your father’s aura."

"It’s the confidence," Kronos beamed, excited by the prospect of his own city. "The dominance."

"Yes," Ava agreed quietly. "Dominance."

Rolan was polite, but beneath the surface lay a wild, unyielding pride. It was a specific kind of arrogance—the kind that believed it could conquer the world because it had checked the math and knew it was possible. In Rolan, Ava saw the ghost of the Orion from years ago.

"Well, naturally," Kronos said, a hint of wistfulness creeping into his voice. "He is Daddy’s only true disciple."

The excitement faded slightly, replaced by a pang of envy.

Kronos realized that in many ways, Rolan was closer to Orion than he was. Rolan had spent years by Orion’s side, absorbing his philosophy, witnessing the blood and grit it took to build the Horde from nothing. Rolan was the golden child of that generation—the undefeated Myriarch, a Legion Commander in his twenties. He was a "Big Boss" in the Horde hierarchy while Kronos was still finding his footing.

Kronos had the blood, but Rolan had the time.

"It is fate, my son," Ava said, reading his heart as only a mother could. She reached out and pulled him into an embrace. "We cannot change the past, or the time you lost with him. But you have a new starting line now."

She held him tight, trying to fill the void of a fatherless childhood with her own warmth.

"Promise me," she whispered. "Promise me that one day, your glory will shine so bright it illuminates the entire Stoneheart Horde."