Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1435: Father’s Pride

Dirtclaw rose from his seat.

His frame still dwarfed his sons, casting a long shadow over them. He circled Anubis and Wepwawet slowly, pacing like a predator deciding how to strike, or perhaps... hesitating.

"Gustalon, what do you think of these two whelps?"

Dirtclaw didn’t look at his guest, but his question was directed at the elemental sitting nearby. "Do they have a chance to reach the Legendary rank on their own?"

Dirtclaw found himself paralyzed by indecision, so he deferred to Gustalon, whom he had dragged over for drinks.

To reach the rank of Lord on one’s own meant condensing a Lord’s Stone without external aid.

Logically speaking, Anubis and Wepwawet were born after Dirtclaw had evolved into a Hell-Drake Hound. Their latent potential far exceeded that of most whelps in the Stoneheart Horde. Dirtclaw had high hopes for them.

Though he himself had chosen to abandon the Hell-Drake path to embrace the Titan bloodline, he couldn’t make that choice for his sons. He wasn’t them. He didn’t know their limits, and he feared making a decision that would cap their potential.

"I don’t know," Gustalon said, his form shifting slightly like a breeze caught in a bottle. "But it would likely be very difficult."

He neither confirmed nor denied the possibility.

Gustalon was an elemental lifeform. He hadn’t condensed a Lord’s Stone in the traditional sense, so the difficulty of the task was somewhat abstract to him. Moreover, Dirtclaw didn’t realize that beings like Gustalon and Lumi were unique. Whether they "condensed" a stone or not was irrelevant; they were the stone. An elemental’s growth was tied to wisdom and experience, not talent.

"I believe," Gustalon added, "that following their own will is the best choice."

Dirtclaw’s eyes lit up.

He spun around to face his sons, his expression turning stern.

"Anubis. Wepwawet. Tell me. What is your choice?"

They weren’t pups anymore. They were adults. They had their own minds, though they had held their tongues out of respect for their father’s brooding.

"Father, there is no choice to be made," Anubis said.

His answer caught both Dirtclaw and Gustalon off guard.

"The Princess is powerful, is she not?" Anubis continued, his voice steady. "I would venture to guess she is stronger than both you and Gustalon."

Dirtclaw and Gustalon fell silent.

Elara was an Archlord. While those outside the inner circle might not know, Dirtclaw certainly did.

"If even the Princess desires to inherit His Majesty’s bloodline, what arrogance would we have to choose differently?" Anubis asked. "Father, we wish to follow in His Majesty’s footsteps. To do that, we cannot lag behind the rest of the clan."

He straightened his back. "Anubis is the best of his generation. I am now, and I will be in the future."

Anubis was Elara’s follower—a position Dirtclaw had personally secured for him. Growing up, Anubis had spent more time shadowing Elara than he had in his own home. Because of this, Elara hid very little from him.

Anubis had seen her fight. He had watched her assume the four-headed, eight-armed Titan form and beat Pallas until the Prince howled for mercy. He had felt the crushing weight of her Archlord aura.

Wepwawet, as Pallas’s follower, had seen it too—usually from the floor, flattened by the pressure while Anubis, shielded by his allegiance, remained standing.

Having witnessed the true power of the Stoneheart Titan, the question of "choice" was laughable to them. The only one hesitating was their father.

Furthermore, Anubis had received a hint from Elara: he would be joining the invasion of the alien world. The glory he had dreamed of was finally within reach. Lately, he had been training in a frenzy of excitement.

Dirtclaw stared at them.

He looked at the two sons he was most proud of, and for a moment, they felt both familiar and strangely alien.

"If that’s the case... then get out of my sight!"

It took a long time for the words to squeeze past the lump in his throat.

Anubis and Wepwawet bowed to their father and Gustalon, then filed out of the great hall.

Dirtclaw collapsed back into his chair. He grabbed a pitcher of wine and drained it in one long draught. Wiping his mouth, he sighed a sentence that Gustalon found utterly baffling.

"Brother Gustalon, have you noticed... we seem to have gotten old."

"The young ones... their thinking is far ahead of ours."

"Heh..."

Though Dirtclaw was forcing a bitter smile, Gustalon could hear the undercurrent of pride in the laugh.

"Your vitality is stronger than ever. I sense no signs of aging," Gustalon remarked literally. "As for the young ones having their own ideas, is that so strange?"

Gustalon had no children, no lover. He could hear the emotion in Dirtclaw’s voice, but he couldn’t comprehend the specific blend of melancholy and delight that came from realizing your children had surpassed you.

It wasn’t Dirtclaw’s body that had aged; it was his mindset. Or rather, the stark contrast between his cautious wisdom and their fearless ambition made him feel like a relic.

"No, not strange. Not strange at all!"

"It’s actually... good."

Dirtclaw leaned back, his gaze drifting through the open doors to the courtyard beyond. The corners of his mouth began to curl upward, higher and higher, until he was grinning with sheer, unadulterated smugness.

Years ago, he had sent Anubis and Wepwawet away to serve the royal children, hoping only to secure them resources and a political safety net. He had hoped they would benefit from proximity to power.

He hadn’t expected them to gain something far more valuable.

Wisdom.

That was what Dirtclaw valued above all else. Perhaps it was due to their exposure to the world, but Anubis and Wepwawet possessed a vision that far outstripped what Dirtclaw had at their age.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered happily. "When I was their age, I was still fighting over scraps with wild wolves in Thunderwood Forest!"

"Can’t compare. Really can’t compare!"

In just a few sentences, Anubis had displayed perspective, judgment, and ambition that exceeded Dirtclaw’s wildest expectations.

Brains. Vision. Strength. Anubis had it all.

That was his pup!

And Wepwawet was right there with him. A double victory.

Dirtclaw felt like he had won the lottery of life.

"You seem... very happy?" Gustalon turned his head, the wind whispering to him that the joy radiating from Dirtclaw was more potent than when the Gnoll had ascended to Legendary rank.

"Very happy!"

"Brother Gustalon, have you noticed?" Dirtclaw grinned, gesturing vaguely at the air. "Even the wind in Blackstone City feels a little warmer today."

Gustalon sat frozen in his chair.

He was a being of living wind. Did Dirtclaw really think he knew the wind better than him?

Impossible.

And yet... hearing Dirtclaw speak, it felt undeniably true.