Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1427: Blind Date

Orion left his mental imprint within Myxara’s sea of consciousness and immediately withdrew.

"She is clean."

Orion turned to his partner. "Insectfolk are sentient beings, Lilith. You’ll need to find them a habitat that connects to the outside world."

Lilith smiled warmly, pulling out a handkerchief to gently wipe the cold sweat from Myxara’s face.

Even without malice, having one’s consciousness invaded by a being of Orion’s magnitude had terrified Myxara to her core. But she had passed the test. She had successfully joined the Stoneheart Horde.

"Consider this a gift from the Horde to the Flying Fish Mayfly race. Do not disappoint Lilith."

Orion retrieved a Legendary level hive from his dimensional storage and tossed it to Myxara. Then, without another word, he vanished from the Wormholes dimension.

This space could serve as a breeding ground, but if the Flying Fish Mayfly race was to participate in cross-realm warfare, a mobile base was essential. The hive was Orion’s way of compensating her for the intrusion.

"He scared the hell out of you, didn’t he?"

"Orion is a Demigod," Myxara whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn’t even dare to look him in the eye."

Lilith stepped forward and linked arms with Myxara, treating her like a close sister. It was a calculated move to build emotional leverage.

Of course, Lilith’s comfort served two purposes: to soothe Myxara’s fear and to subtly remind her of the hierarchy. Orion had cleared her, which lowered Lilith’s guard significantly, but trust was something earned over time. For now, Myxara was a tool—a powerful assistant and a strong right arm for the future.

Even though Myxara was currently only at the Alpha level, her status as a Broodmother gave her immense potential. She wasn’t yet in the same league as Lorelia or Soraya—she wouldn’t catch Orion’s eye just yet—but the growing swarm of Flying Fish Mayflies could be integrated into the Stoneheart Horde’s aerial cavalry.

Lilith had plans, and Orion trusted her enough not to ask for details.

The North, Lysinthia City

Built against the backdrop of the misty coastline, Lysinthia City was the primary breeding ground for the Stoneheart Horde’s Ocean Hunters.

Plague Ravens circled in the sky, Ocean Hunters patrolled the waters, and the streets were filled with a mix of races. Aside from Blackstone City, this was the most militarized stronghold in the north.

"Auntie! Auntie, take it easy! Put me down!"

"I can walk, Aunt Lysinthia! You don’t need to carry me by the scruff of my neck!"

The person shouting was Pallas, the Giant Prince of the Stoneheart Horde.

The person dangling him in the air was Lysinthia.

In the entire Stoneheart Horde, there were three women Pallas feared above all else: Elara first, Lilith second, and Lysinthia third. To Pallas, Lysinthia was practically a second mother. Lilith might keep secrets from others, but she rarely hid anything from Lysinthia.

Consequently, Lysinthia handled Pallas like he was a misbehaving chick.

"I have business with you. Now, come and entertain our guest."

If she had simply told Pallas he was going on a blind date with Ariselle, the Blood Elf Princess, he would have made excuses and bolted. Lysinthia’s rough handling was the only way to ensure attendance, a method tacitly approved by Lilith.

"Behold, the Prince of the Stoneheart Horde, Pallas."

Arriving in the castle’s inner dining hall, Lysinthia unceremoniously dropped Pallas onto a chair and sat down beside him.

"Good afternoon, Auntie," Pallas said, his large eyes darting around the room until they landed on Lycanor.

She was his father’s woman. No matter the location, respect was mandatory.

Lycanor leaned over and scooped Pallas up into a hug.

"Look at you, little guy. A decade ago, you were just a brat who demanded uppies from everyone." Lycanor smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I remember seeing you a few years back; you were tall and imposing. How did you turn back into a cub?"

She set him down and pushed a plate of his favorite roast meat in front of him.

"Your Auntie has a guest from her clan. She’s close to your age, so no generational gap. You wouldn’t mind showing her around for me, would you?"

As she spoke, Lycanor tore the roast meat into bite-sized pieces and fed them directly into Pallas’s mouth. She gestured toward the girl sitting across from him—Ariselle, who was staring at Pallas with wide, curious eyes.

"Old enough to kill, but still needs to be spoon-fed? Shame on you."

When Pallas followed Lycanor’s gesture and locked eyes with Ariselle, the Blood Elf girl made a playful ’shame-shame’ motion, scraping her finger against her cheek. It was the kind of teasing adults used on toddlers, though without malice.

Pallas froze. He wasn’t a child. He was an adult.

His current diminutive size was purely a side effect of the Stoneheart Titan bloodline transformation.

"You’re the one who needs feeding! Shame on you!"

Since when had the Giant Prince ever tolerated being looked down upon? Pallas fired back instantly.

But just as he opened his mouth to retort, Lysinthia shoved a piece of crispy, charred meat into it. He didn’t dare spit it out.

"Auntie..." Pallas chewed symbolically, looking at Lysinthia with pathetic, watery eyes. His voice was small and aggrieved.

Lysinthia snorted with laughter and stuffed another piece of meat into his mouth.

Only after Pallas had swallowed everything did she reach out and wipe his mouth with a napkin.

"I brought back some gifts from Jynx. Take Ariselle and go pick out whatever you like."

Pallas’s eyes lit up. He jumped out of the chair immediately.

"Thanks, Auntie!"

Moving with surprising speed, Pallas circled the table, grabbed Ariselle by the wrist, and dragged her toward the door.

"Oh, and don’t bully Ariselle!"

"Don’t worry, I won’t!"

As Pallas’s voice faded down the hall, Lysinthia burst into laughter again.

"Look at that little rascal. He was in such a rush. He probably wanted the gifts, sure, but mostly he just wanted to escape us."

Lysinthia shook her head, her heart full. Pallas was a Legendary level powerhouse, yet he still let her manhandle him. It proved just how high her standing was in his heart.

Beside her, Lycanor let out a long sigh, the polar opposite of Lysinthia’s joy.

She knew Pallas respected her, but she would never share the deep, familial bond he had with Lysinthia.

Today’s gathering was orchestrated by Lycanor, using her own social capital. By letting Pallas and Ariselle meet in a low-pressure environment, everyone hoped for a favorable outcome.

"Sister, let the young ones worry about their own lives," Lysinthia said comfortingly. They had spent years together on Serpent Isle and shared a deep friendship. Lysinthia was more than happy to help with Lycanor’s request, no matter how trivial.

"I don’t want to worry about it either," Lycanor admitted. "But the King and the Grand Elder both came to me personally. They talked until my ears bled. I couldn’t refuse."

"Besides," she added, her expression darkening slightly, "the situation facing the Blood Elf race is... awkward, to say the least."

As a Blood Elf herself, her marriage to Orion had been a political move to secure a safe environment for her people. Lycanor hadn’t forgotten her original purpose. Caught between the Stoneheart Horde and the Blood Elves, she felt conflicted, contradictory, and complicated.

It was just that no one seemed to care about her internal struggle.