Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1429: Wheeling and Dealing

Although the Abyssal Vortex was a projection of power rather than a true Divine Kingdom, its corrosive aura was an affront to the Dead Sea.

In the next heartbeat, the entire ocean seemed to boil. An infinite, crushing pressure surged toward the vortex from every direction, seeking to shatter the intrusion and swallow the void whole.

Just as I thought. My grasp on the fourth stage of Demigod power is too tenuous. I can’t withstand the weight of an ownerless Divine Kingdom.

Let alone devour it.

Recognizing the futility of the standoff, Orion sighed internally and dissolved the Abyssal Vortex.

"Go."

Orion’s voice boomed through the water, amplified by the fading magic. "You should cherish the protection your ancestors left you."

"From this day forth, Atlantis shall live in peace with you. We will not extend our reach beyond Current’s Bend."

As he spoke, Orion withdrew his divine power, the killing intent that had saturated the water receding rapidly.

He likely could have killed Morveth, Ishraena, and Amon right there. But doing so would have exhausted this projection of his consciousness, causing it to dissipate. That would leave Kraken without his trump card, vulnerable to immediate execution by the remaining Sea Folk forces.

Furthermore, there was no guarantee these three had come in their true bodies. Expending that much energy to kill mere avatars would be meaningless.

A truce was the only viable path.

On the other side, while Orion felt resigned, Morveth, Ishraena, and Amon were terrified.

Amon, in particular, was shaken. Believing the Dead Sea offered absolute protection, he had come in his true form. He had nearly perished.

The gravitational force that had just clawed at him was undeniable proof that their opponent was not merely a first-stage Demigod.

"We accept your terms," Morveth said finally. He had remained silent until now, but as the leader, his caution defined the moment. "From now on, the Cetus Giants and Atlantis shall coexist in peace."

"Peace is hard-won," Orion said, his tone deepening with feigned profundity as his presence began to fade. "I hope you all cherish it."

Morveth, Ishraena, and Amon exchanged glances. Without another word, they turned and signaled their forces. The massive encirclement around Atlantis broke, and the Sea Folk army vanished into the endless depths.

"Orion, damn it! Why didn’t we finish them?"

"Do you realize what we just walked away from? The whole ocean!" Kraken’s internal voice was practically vibrating with adrenaline. "I guarantee this sea is larger than it used to be. The rhythm of the tides... it doesn’t lie."

The enemies were gone, and Kraken was ecstatic. Atlantis was secure.

"It’s not as simple as you think," Orion’s voice echoed in Kraken’s mind, sounding noticeably weaker.

"Even if we killed those three, could you guarantee they were truly dead? Or just clones?"

Orion had seemed imperious a moment ago, but summoning the Abyssal Vortex had drained the vast majority of his divine power.

"Besides, the laws of the Dead Sea are extremely xenophobic. Fighting in these waters puts us at a massive disadvantage. We would lose in a war of attrition."

"Leave it be. We have what we came for. Focus on preparing for the invasion of the next world."

Titanion Realm, Stoneheart City

The population and prosperity of Stoneheart City had exploded in recent weeks, as if catalyzed by some alchemical reaction.

In both the inner and outer districts, properties that had once sat vacant were snapped up instantly. Real estate prices were skyrocketing, multiplying a hundredfold.

Most of Stoneheart City’s original inhabitants didn’t understand the intricacies of this market economy miracle. They only knew that everyone was getting richer, and life was suddenly full of promise.

Amidst this boom, the Silent Goblet, located in the outer city, became the primary sanctuary for the masses.

The tavern never closed. Its doors were open all day and all night.

On the first floor, a patron could order the cheapest ale and nurse it from dusk till dawn, entertained by the alluring dances and songs of exotic beauties from a dozen different races.

Of course, the true power players—those with status and strength—were only found on the second floor and above.

Driven by the needs of its clientele, the Silent Goblet had gradually evolved. It was no longer just a watering hole; it had become a hub for posting and accepting commissions. In a small alcove off the main hall, a designated reception desk had been installed, manned by a sharp-eyed succubus clerk.

A different kind of Silent Goblet was taking shape.

On the second floor, in a private room at the far east end of the circular corridor, three men sat around a table, glasses clinking.

"Mr. Greymount! Come on, one more!"

The man gripping Tristan’s shoulder was Nico, the manager of the Colosseum. He was a mountain of blubber, glistening with oil and sweat. Tristan found it genuinely baffling how a man so obese could have cultivated his strength to the peak of the Alpha level.

If he kept drinking cup for cup with this whale, Tristan was going to die.

"Nico, I... I can’t," Tristan stammered. His face was beet red, and the whites of his eyes were veined with blood. To an outsider, he looked like he had just walked off a battlefield, not a business meeting.

"Give me two days to get settled. Then we’ll drink properly. Until we pass out."

Tristan knew the rules of the game. At the table, if you wanted to make friends, you had to drink. You had to suffer willingly.

And he desperately wanted to make friends with Nico and Kadir.

Especially Kadir. This man was destined to be the Vice Guild Master of the Stoneheart Horde’s Cross-Realm Trade Guild. He was Tristan’s deputy, his partner.

Tristan had been appointed by Orion himself, but Lilith, ever the pragmatist, had transferred Kadir—the second-in-command of the Colosseum—to keep an eye on him. Both men possessed sharp economic minds, and Lilith was banking on their combined acumen to launch the trade guild into the stratosphere.

"You tub of lard, that’s enough for today," Kadir interjected smoothly.

"Mr. Greymount just arrived in Stoneheart City. He has a mountain of work ahead of him."

Kadir was the one smoothing things over. He had arranged this drinking session immediately after receiving his appointment, bringing Nico along as a bridge. While Nico and Tristan had done most of the talking (and drinking), Kadir had been observing, analyzing his new boss.

"Haven’t had enough yet... sigh. Fine. Since Tristan has duties, we’ll call it a night."

Nico leaned in, his jovial expression tightening into something more serious. "Mr. Greymount, I’ll be clear. We have a lot of business to do together."

"Gladiators, weapons, armor, artifacts, magical beasts... if my Colosseum needs it, you keep an eye out for it."

"Price is not the problem," Nico said, slapping the table. "We need channels. We need supply lines."

This was the other reason Kadir had brought Nico. The synergy between the Colosseum and the Cross-Realm Trade Guild was obvious. It gave the three of them common ground, preventing the meeting from becoming awkward.

"Rest assured," Tristan said, tapping his fingers over his heart—a gesture of sincerity and oath. "Helping you is helping myself. I understand the value of mutual benefit perfectly."

"Hahaha! Good! That’s what I like to hear!"