Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1470: Rot from the Outside

Stoneheart City. The Castle.

While Zhenlo, Bastien, and Redfang were drinking and dreaming of glory, the grim reality of the situation in Northguard had already reached Lilith’s desk.

"The Insectoid density is unnatural," Lilith said, scanning the parchment. "Lack of regular culling explains some of it, but not this. There is a deeper cause."

She passed the intelligence report to Ava and Sylvana.

Ava snatched the paper. Northguard was Theodore’s territory; her nephew’s life was on the line.

"There are at least three active Wormhole Realms on the perimeter of the city," Sylvana noted. The Vixen’s eyes were sharp; she had already digested the details while Ava was still frantically reading. "They aren’t just wandering beasts. They are pouring out of stable rifts."

"If we don’t purge the swarms, Northguard cannot simply turtle up behind its walls," Sylvana continued, her voice grim. "The situation will rot from the outside in. Give it time, and they won’t just breach the walls—they’ll eat the stone itself."

This wasn’t hyperbole. If Theodore hadn’t surrendered Northguard to the Stoneheart Horde, the city would already be a graveyard.

The Horde had been studying the Insectoids found on their own lands. The current wave consisted of early-stage evolutionary forms—carnal feeders subsisting on plants and flesh. But the scholars knew what came next. Given time and biomass, they would mutate, developing grotesque and specialized abilities.

"It is possible," Sylvana murmured, tapping a claw on the table, "that an Insectoid of Archlord rank is already lurking inside one of those Wormhole Realms."

Her intuition was terrifyingly accurate. In fact, it was something Orion had privately confirmed to Lilith.

Hearing the words Archlord rank, Ava’s head snapped up. The blood drained from her face. If an Archlord was hunting her nephew, Northguard was a tomb.

"You’re right," Lilith said softly, confirming the fear. "A short while ago, Orion sensed the signature of a strange Archlord. It vanished almost instantly, but he felt it."

Crash.

The porcelain teacup slipped from Ava’s trembling fingers, shattering against the stone floor.

"Peace, Ava. Do not panic," Lilith said, her voice turning soothing. "Northguard belongs to the Horde now. Orion’s gaze is upon it."

"He has established defensive wards over the city. They are impenetrable. Even if a mega-swarm descends, the city will hold."

Lilith reached out, placing a hand over Ava’s. She knew the woman’s anxiety wasn’t just for Theodore, but for the thousands of civilians trapped in the north.

"Besides," Lilith added, a confident smile returning to her lips, "the bulk of our mercenary companies and independent volunteers are already moving north. They smell profit. They will serve as the hammer to break the siege."

"And do not forget, Dirtclaw has walked out of the Divine Kingdom. He has been named Commander of the Fourth Legion. He is personally leading the extermination campaign."

Commander of the Fourth Legion.

The title carried heavy implications. It meant Dirtclaw had successfully ascended to Archlord. He was now a transcendent existence within the Horde.

Ava and Sylvana stared at Lilith, the shattered cup forgotten.

Dirtclaw’s ascension was a signal flare. The Stoneheart Temple was not just a symbol; it was a stairway to godhood.

They had heard Orion’s voice thunder across the city earlier. They knew Dirtclaw had risen. But hearing it confirmed in this context brought a different kind of pressure.

When would their turn come?

"It is... difficult," Lilith said, reading the hunger in their eyes. She shook her head with a wry smile.

"If you are willing to give up the right to bear Orion’s children, I doubt he would object to you entering the Temple to seek power."

The color drained from the faces of the women in the room.

Give up the right to bear his heirs? Absolutely not.

In this world, power was vital, but lineage was security. To surrender their fertility was to admit defeat in the harem—to become a servant rather than a matriarch. They knew exactly where the true power lay in the long term.

Lilith watched them, knowing the conversation was over. She shifted topics.

"Kaelen has pacified the Insectoids occupying Soaring Bird City. He is moving south now, sweeping the remnants of the infestation from the old human kingdom territories."

"He expects to find significant numbers of refugees. Where should we send them? Northguard, or Rosethorn?"

Kaelen had been on the move for days, and the reports of starving survivors were already trickling in.

"Rosethorn," Ava said instantly. "The North is a war zone, and the journey is too dangerous. Rosethorn is safer."

Lilith nodded. "Done."

Sending the refugees to Rosethorn was a favor to Ava—a way to bolster the population of a territory Ava cared about, a reward for her tireless work for the Horde.

Lilith leaned back in her chair, the business of the day concluding. Her eyes drifted to the window.

I wonder how the children are doing?

World of Eldoria. Outside Dolame Square.

Dolame Square was the beating heart of the Andor Diocese, a bastion of the Holy Order’s power.

Or at least, it had been.

Father Orel, the white-robed priest who previously administered this diocese, was a smart man. A coward, perhaps, but a smart one. He had foreseen the coming storm. Before the first drop of blood was spilled, he had applied for a transfer to a pioneer mission in a newly discovered world, a request rubber-stamped by Cardinal Maelric.

The Holy Order always needed bodies for colonization efforts, so Orel’s exit was smooth. He fled just in time.

No one had anticipated that Hellscream would drag an Evil God and His fanatics into the equation so quickly. Orel’s replacement hadn’t even arrived from the Agaman Diocese before the war erupted.

Consequently, the Andor Diocese was defenseless. The Holy Order had no Archlord stationed here to hold the line.

As for whether reinforcements would come?

Elara, Makareth, Isabella, Kaedros, and Aina didn’t care.

In fact, they hoped the Holy Order would send help. More troops meant more meat for the grinder. A localized war now meant less resistance when the total war eventually broke out.

"There is nothing to discuss," Makareth said, his voice cold and final. "Every human in this region dies."

He looked around the table at the coalition of invaders.

"My Undead Legion requires corpses and sacrifices. This population is the fuel."

"Furthermore, the Andor Diocese will serve as the headquarters for our coalition. Cleaning out the... irrelevant personnel... is the safest course of action."

Makareth was the highest-ranking entity at the table. His opinion wasn’t a suggestion; it was a directive.

"I agree with Makareth," Elara said immediately.

She wasn’t here to be a saint. She was here to wage war. Before they departed, Orion had briefed her specifically: the Seeker of Change involved in this operation desired the extinction of humanity in this world. Elara was simply aligning with the mission parameters.

"I have no objections," Kaedros rumbled.

The Dragonblood warrior, a subordinate of Leonidas and a mid-tier Archlord, radiated a palpable aura of draconic pressure.

"However," Kaedros continued, "I want to know the protocol if the enemy deploys heavy reinforcements. How do we respond?"

"Reinforcements?"

Makareth threw his head back and laughed, a dry, rasping sound.

"Let them come! We kill as many as they send."

"And if a Demigod descends?" Makareth’s eyes gleamed with malice. "Then that is no longer a problem for you Archlords to solve. The Boss will handle it."