Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1467: Reborn in Hellfire

It was a long, magnificent dream.

Dirtclaw dreamed he crossed vast oceans and scaled the highest peaks, entering a realm of pure wonder.

He dreamed he had ascended to become a Demigod. He stood atop the firmament, gazing down with indifference at the tiny, fragile lives crawling upon the earth.

In the dream, Dirtclaw held absolute authority. He commanded legions of thousands, a tide of steel and fury at his back.

In the dream, he buried champions with his own hands.

In the dream, he extinguished every spark of life in an entire world.

Only when that world crumbled into dust and the Void came rushing in did Dirtclaw realize the truth. Standing before him was a giant whose height defied comprehension—a titan with four heads and eight arms that inspired in Dirtclaw a limitless sense of awe, fanaticism, and worship.

"Wake up... wake... wake up..."

Orion’s voice was ethereal, yet heavy with command.

It resonated directly inside Dirtclaw’s skull, sending a violent jolt through his spirit.

With that shudder, the dream shattered. Dirtclaw snapped awake, consciousness flooding back.

"My Lord!"

They were atop a high peak. Orion stood at the precipice, his back to Dirtclaw, looking down at the Sea of Blood churning below.

Even from behind, Dirtclaw knew him instantly.

"Sense your form," Orion said without turning. "See if it obeys your command."

Dirtclaw was confused, but he never questioned an order. He turned his focus inward.

He froze.

A canine snout. A dragon’s tail. A body encased in crimson, draconic scales. At the tip of his tail sat a wicked, barbed stinger that looked half-hook, half-blade.

Dirtclaw had returned to the form of a Gnoll, yet the blood coursing through his veins was undeniably that of a Stoneheart Titan.

It was a bizarre fusion—a transformation that somehow honored the primal desire of his soul. Unless forced by necessity, no creature truly despises their own kind.

His scalp felt itchy. Instinctively, he reached up to scratch his mane.

His hand came away grasping a ball of hellfire.

Dirtclaw stared at his palm. The hellfire felt familiar. It wasn’t dangerous; it felt intimate, like a part of him. Instinct took over, and he placed the fire back onto his head.

Wait.

That... just now?

Hellfire? Not hair?

The realization hit him. He reached up and scooped a handful of the fire off his skull again. His mane had become a wreath of living hellfire, shifting and dancing at his will.

"My Lord... what has happened to me?"

Dirtclaw spread his hands, looking down at a body that felt both alien and perfect.

"The Blood Sea consumed your old vessel," Orion said, finally turning to face him. "The Divine Kingdom has forged you a new one. It is tailored to your soul. Stronger. Higher potential."

Hearing the words stronger and higher potential, Dirtclaw tried to summon his old energy—his transcendent power.

Panic flared.

The transcendent power was gone. In its place roared a terrifying current of energy, familiar yet distinct, ancient and heavy.

"What... what is this power?"

"Divine power."

Orion let the words hang in the air. He offered no further explanation. Some truths had to be seized, not given.

As Dirtclaw focused on controlling this new torrent, a sense of omnipotence surged through him. He felt guided by an unseen force, a compulsion in his gut.

He followed that instinct.

He didn’t know how long he stood there in trance, but when Dirtclaw opened his eyes again, he was holding a small object.

It was a blank, miniature tombstone.

"This... what is this?"

Shock gave way to disbelief. Dirtclaw couldn’t understand when he had acquired such a strange ability.

"That is Authority."

Orion nodded at the stone. "It is one of the laws of the Abyssal World. The rule of the God of the Grave."

Divine Kingdom. Authority. God of the Grave. Rules.

Dirtclaw was lost. He wasn’t a Demigod; these concepts were far beyond his comprehension.

"You know of Soraya’s dominion over the Desert, yes?"

Dirtclaw nodded vigorously. He had always envied that power.

"What you hold," Orion said, "is the Authority of Burial."

"Ah..."

The pieces clicked into place. Dirtclaw trembled. He had obtained something incredible, something unimaginable—something he had only dared to dream of.

"My Lord, does this mean... do I have a chance to ascend to Archlord?"

"Heh."

Orion chuckled. The Gnoll had no concept of the weight he held in his hand.

"You are an Archlord."

"That stone," Orion pointed, "is your Body of Faith."

Orion saw the shock on Dirtclaw’s face and offered a rare explanation. "Your will is strong. It pleases me, and it resonates perfectly with the Burial Authority of this realm. You are not merely an Archlord; you are now my Exarch. You may borrow a portion of my divine power."

Orion grinned. "With that stone in hand, you will crush any ordinary Archlord who dares stand against you."

Surprise? Shock?

Orion’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched the realization wash over his servant.

Thud.

Dirtclaw dropped to his knees.

"Praise be to my Lord!"

"Thank you for your grace! Thank you for your favor!"

"Dirtclaw will execute your will!"

Watching the Gnoll groveling on the ground, Orion let out a short laugh. He lifted his foot and kicked Dirtclaw straight off the edge of the Divine Kingdom.

"Enough bootlicking!"

As Dirtclaw plummeted, Orion’s voice chased him down.

"I name you Commander of the Fourth Legion. Your orders are to scour every Insectoid from the Titan continent."

"Dirtclaw! I expect you to reach the height where you can bury the heavens, bury the earth, and bury all living things!"

Orion’s command thundered through the Stoneheart Temple and echoed across the entire city of Stoneheart.

"Thank you for your grace, my Lord!"

"Dirtclaw shall not fail..."

The sycophantic shouting faded into the void as Dirtclaw disappeared.

Only then did Orion turn his gaze to Onyx and the others, who were still struggling to climb the mountain.

Unfortunately, none of them had triggered a reaction from the Divine Kingdom yet.

The emergence of the God of the Grave—this specific Divine Calling—had siphoned off a portion of Orion’s faith and a fraction of the realm’s secondary authority. On the surface, it appeared detrimental to Orion’s own power.

But in the long run, it was pure profit.

The blank tombstone Dirtclaw had manifested was a physical crystallization of the Burial Authority. To grow, Dirtclaw would need to feed that tombstone with vast amounts of Faith Energy or endless sacrifices.

And the majority of that Faith and those sacrifices would be funneled right back into the Abyssal World.

Simply put, the Divine Calling was like opening a new artery for the realm to feed upon the outside world. The more of these channels Orion could open, the faster his accumulation of power would become.

With that thought, two specific figures drifted into Orion’s mind.