Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1492: Shattered Shackles

World of Eldoria. The Agaman Diocese.

The war had paused. The coalition forces had entrenched themselves around the Agaman Temple. It was a sprawling mosaic of encampments: Dragon Beasts, Undead, Brawnbulls, Plague Zombies, and various bloodline warriors. Boneyards, beast pens, tents, and plague pools stretched out as far as the eye could see.

In a modest tent on the edge of the core command zone, Orion materialized. Aina, Tangere, Caesar, Scarecrow, and Aurora immediately rose from their seats to acknowledge him.

"Boss, you made it!" Caesar greeted him, his face lit with excitement.

"Not bad. Legendary rank. You’ve grown," Orion nodded.

He meant it. Caesar hadn’t just leveled up in power, but in temperament and worldview. In the past, Caesar’s rigid sense of justice would have kept him far away from a war of invasion. But he was here, and he had blood on his hands. While he was partly here to support Aina, the change in him was undeniable. He hadn’t turned evil; he had simply learned to read the room, to make necessary compromises based on his own values.

That was maturity.

"Sit, everyone." Orion took the head seat, his gaze sweeping over them warmly.

These were fellow Survivors. They hailed from the same world. That shared origin created a natural gravity between them.

"We’ve finalized the negotiations. The Stellaris and Twilight Vale dioceses are being carved out for you," Orion began, skipping the pleasantries. "Makareth and Isabella faced off against Archlords—they took the biggest risks, so they’re splitting the Stellaris diocese between them."

Orion didn’t ask for their input. He was the one holding the knife to cut the cake. That was the prerogative of power; decision-makers rarely polled the common folk.

"That leaves the Twilight Vale diocese. Tangere, Caesar, Scarecrow, Aurora—you operate as a unit. How you divide it is up to you."

Their eyes lit up. Honestly, none of them had expected Orion to hand them an entire diocese. Scarecrow and Aurora, working with Orion for the first time, were particularly stunned by his generosity. They had assumed they’d be lucky to get a single barony capable of supporting a Lord, especially considering the mountain of loot they’d already secured from the coalition treasury under Tangere’s leadership.

"Any issues?" Orion looked at Tangere. The team revolved around him, and Tangere was Orion’s man. Asking him was as good as asking the group.

Tangere shook his head. "No issues. We’re just... humbled. We never dared to dream we’d get a whole diocese."

Having witnessed the clash of Archlords, they knew exactly how easy they had it. Bluntly put, the resources Makareth and Isabella had burned through during the war represented losses Tangere’s crew couldn’t have survived.

"Then it’s settled. Let me know once you’ve worked out the details," Orion said. "Next on the agenda: we’re moving against the Sea Folk. The coastal regions need to be fortified against tsunamis and amphibious assaults."

Orion signaled the silent Aina to follow him outside. Her situation differed from the others; she hadn’t fought on the front lines, but she had provided the crucial world coordinates and intelligence.

Her organization, Hellscream, had been instrumental in the vanguard of the frontal assault.

Orion and Aina walked through the encampment in silence, one leading, one following, until they reached the top of a watchtower. Looking out at the military camp stretching toward the horizon, a familiar feeling washed over them—a memory of the Defense of the Spire, watching the tide of monsters crash against their walls.

"Your wish is granted," Orion broke the silence.

"I didn’t wield the knife myself," Aina replied softly, "but I forced the hand that did."

Orion had promised her he would wipe the human race from this continent. Looking at the situation now, with the exception of the humans absorbed into Hellscream, that promise had been fulfilled.

Aina remained silent, staring into the distance, her thoughts unreadable.

"I’m ceding the Andor Diocese to you," Orion said. "It will be your territory. A home for Hellscream."

Orion controlled three dioceses. One went to Aina, one would be liquidated to provide startup capital for Elara, and the third would fall under the direct jurisdiction of the Horde. While the Stoneheart Horde hadn’t gained much land in this specific deal, once the maritime rights to one-third of the ocean were factored in, the equation changed entirely.

"Sir Orion, you are far more generous than I imagined," Aina said, finally tearing her gaze away from the horizon to look at him with wide eyes. "I thought... I thought at best I’d be given the Dolame Square."

Aina didn’t truly know Orion. They had been comrades in the Spire trials solely for the sake of survival. They knew nothing of each other’s pasts or origins. She had only sought him out because she lacked the power to exact her vengeance alone; appealing to him had been a desperate gamble to topple the Holy Order.

At times, in the darker corners of her mind, Aina had suspected that once Orion conquered this world, he would cast her aside—or perhaps kill her to tie up loose ends.

Her vision had been clouded by hatred, painting the entire world as sinners. Her trauma had warped her instincts, making her prepare constantly for the worst possible outcome. Madness, paranoia, obsession—she saw sin everywhere.

"You are a Survivor," Orion said, his voice dropping to a more personal register. "You’ve seen others like us rise from weakness to strength. There are infinite possibilities for a Survivor. Your future isn’t limited to this single world."

He looked at her steadily. "We cannot change the past. But we can shape the future."

He offered the advice out of genuine concern. Aina’s mental state felt precarious, teetering on the edge of instability. Even among Survivors, few would be willing to work with someone so volatile.

"Sir Orion... thank you."

Aina smiled. It was a simple, sincere expression.

Orion reached out and patted her shoulder. He didn’t know how this radical, obsessed woman would change now that her vengeance was sated. If she evolved into someone compatible with the Champions Alliance, he would consider bringing her into the inner circle.

By handing over the coordinates to the World of Eldoria, Aina had already placed herself on the radar of Leonidas, Kraken, Tangere, Makareth, and Isabella. She had built a foundation of goodwill with the heavy hitters.

Orion said nothing more. He offered a final nod, turned, and descended the watchtower, leaving Aina alone against the sky. She remained there for a long time, watching the world below.

The Divine Kingdom. Stoneheart Temple.

Earthshaker sat on the chieftain’s throne in the Brawnbull stronghold. His body was decaying, a rotting husk, yet he couldn’t suppress the urge to quaff bowl after bowl of spicy spirits.

It was liberating. Exhilarating. Heroic.

Earthshaker was drunk. As his eyes closed, the haze of alcohol pulled him back to the distant past.

In those days, he belonged to the most despised branch of the Brawnbull Race. Looked down upon by his own kin, fit only for the filthiest labor.

Then, he had bowed his head to Orion. He became a slave—the lowest of the low in the eyes of his people.

Yes, a slave.

He had believed that was his fate. He had expected a life of humiliation and slaughter.

Instead, the days that followed brought endless food and inexhaustible resources for cultivation.

And war. Glorious, unending war.

And the brothers. The comrades he missed so dearly.

"The Prophet... the Arch Elder... Thundar... Dirtclaw... Rockwell..."

These warriors of the Black Forest were Earthshaker’s pride. Together, they had forged glory.

But that was all memory now.

Now, Earthshaker was dying of old age.

He had failed to break through to the Legendary level. His lifespan was spent. All he could do in his final moments was return to the Black Forest, to the stronghold where he was born, and wait for the end.

Did I give it my all?

Yes.

I didn’t break through, but I have no regrets.

To follow the Master, to conquer the four corners of the world, to know these brothers... this life was worth it.

In the dream, hot tears streamed down Earthshaker’s face. He was proud of a life lived without reservation. These were tears of glory.

Just as Earthshaker closed his eyes, ready to embrace the silence of death, a gate opened in the darkness.

From the other side, a voice—vast and commanding—echoed through the void.

"Not yet... Wake up."

He knew that voice.

"Mas... Master!"

Earthshaker wept. He had not been forgotten. His Master remembered him.

Dragging his rotting body, summoned by that command, Earthshaker stepped through the Gate of the Divine Kingdom.

The next instant, a bovine roar shook the heavens, reverberating through the entire Stoneheart Temple.

Atop a mountain peak, Earthshaker’s body floated in a sea of blood. The crimson fluid rushed into him, tearing apart his muscles and reknitting them, compressing his essence, forging an extraordinary body of iron and steel.

The horns on his head grew heavy. They began to curve.

The original horns bent forward and down, then curled backward, spiraling to encase his skull like a natural helmet of bone.

Mooooo!

With a roar of agony, a second pair of horns burst from his forehead. Thick, sharp, and curving aggressively skyward.

If the old horns were for defense, these new horns were built for slaughter.

Earthshaker shattered the genetic shackles of his lineage. From this day forth, until he reached the threshold of Demigod, there would be no chains to hold him back.

The slumbering Earthshaker snapped his eyes open. His bovine pupils shone with blood-red light, radiating a terrifying pressure.

"Is this... the Legendary level?"

"I crossed the threshold?"

Excitement. Disbelief. Then, a clarity that pierced the clouds like the sun.

"Not bad," a voice resonated in his ear. "Your will is strong enough."

It was Orion. Earthshaker was a slave he had personally contracted; to say he didn’t care would be a lie. But until Orion had grown powerful enough himself, he had been unable to help Earthshaker break his limits.

Now, the shackles were broken.