Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1512: The King’s Epiphany

"Take this. Go to the Westreach Trench and find the massive octopus you fought earlier. He will tell you what needs to be done."

Thalryssa took the token. She was the relief force Orion was sending to share the Kraken’s burden.

But this was the world Orion had conquered. Thalryssa wasn’t just reinforcement; she was his eyes and ears—an auditor.

Trust, but verify.

Orion trusted the Kraken implicitly; he knew his brother wouldn’t cheat him. But business was business, and maintaining proper protocols prevented resentment from festering. Clear boundaries and transparent operations were the only way to ensure a partnership between brothers lasted forever without turning sour.

having dismissed Thalryssa, Orion closed his eyes, emptying his mind.

Now came the dangerous part. He needed to summon the roots of the Divine World Tree and anchor them into the chaotic Void behind the World of Eldoria.

It was a delicate surgery on the fabric of reality, and one slip could be fatal.

Titanion Realm, City of Blessings.

Since the Blood Elves had folded into the Stoneheart Horde, the City of Blessings had been thrown open to the public, its administration transferring to the Horde’s bureaucracy.

Within the city, the only property that still truly belonged to the Elven King was the Royal Palace itself.

Since his surrender, King Rommath had become a recluse. He rarely appeared in public, spending his days in a drunken stupor, drowning his sorrows in vintage wine.

To go from a sovereign ruler to a vassal was a bitterness few could swallow. Many of his remaining subjects understood his grief and left him to his mourning.

"Your Majesty. Lycanor has sent an urgent missive. It requires your personal seal to open."

The woman standing before Rommath was his Queen.

She was a stunning Blood Elf in her own right, though her cultivation base was modest compared to his. Despite her lower power, she had stood by him, bearing him several heirs and weathering the storms of his rule.

"Everyone else has left," Rommath slurred, lying slumped on his throne, a wine flagon dangling from his fingers. The air around him reeked of alcohol. "Why haven’t you?"

" The army has been disbanded. The Royal Guard is gone. Even the Archelder fled, and the Guardian Tree has sealed its dimensional space."

Rommath looked at his wife with eyes that were tragic and hollow. He wasn’t a king anymore. He was a figurehead with a fancy title and no army.

"Why are you still here?"

"Husband and wife are one flesh," she replied softly. "We share the glory, and we share the ruin. Where you are, Your Majesty... that is my home."

"Where else would I go? Unless you intend to drive me away?"

Tears began to streak down her face.

Rommath had lost his throne, and she had lost her supreme status as Queen. But while others could abandon Rommath for greener pastures, she could not. He was her fate.

The sound of her weeping cut through the haze of alcohol clouding Rommath’s mind.

He fell silent.

After a long moment, Rommath sat up straight on the throne. He channeled his Transcendent Power, burning the alcohol from his blood in an instant. The stench of wine vanished, replaced by the crisp scent of ozone.

"A message from Lycanor?"

"Is there trouble in Stoneheart City?"

The Queen wiped her tears, shaking her head as she handed him the envelope stamped with Lycanor’s sigil.

Rommath broke the seal and scanned the contents.

"The Seekers in Stoneheart are auctioning a viable Broodmother egg?"

"A Broodmother egg?"

His tone was incredulous. He read the line three times before the implication truly sank in.

"A Broodmother is a strategic asset. Why would the Horde let it flow into the market?"

Rommath didn’t realize it, but even as he mourned his lost crown, his mind was already thinking from the perspective of a Horde vassal.

"No... it’s not that the Broodmother isn’t important. It’s that the Horde has better options."

His eyes narrowed, the fog of depression lifting as his political instincts kicked in.

"A newborn Broodmother requires a mountain of resources to reach maturity. The Horde could afford it, but why spend their own treasury when they already have mature Broodmothers? It’s inefficient."

Rommath was a King. He possessed a ruler’s vision and intellect. He saw the play immediately.

"They are releasing the egg because they want the subordinate clans with surplus resources to raise it for them."

"And in the Stoneheart Horde, who has the capital to feed a bottomless pit like a Broodmother?"

"Me. Theodore. Aldous. And perhaps the chieftains of the early tribes."

A sharp light returned to Rommath’s eyes. He was no mediocrity; he was the carefully groomed monarch of the Blood Elves.

Compared to the blinding sun that was the Giant King Orion, Rommath’s light seemed dim. But compared to the others? He was a blazing star.

Even Theodore, the son of the High Chieftain, couldn’t match him.

Rommath was true royalty, controlling the accumulated wealth of an entire race. Theodore was just an heir living on an allowance. The difference in their disposable capital was astronomical.

"Lycanor sent this directly to me. She wants me to win the auction. She wants me to raise it."

"And then?"

Rommath leaned back, his mind racing.

Blood Elves were scholars of history. They learned from the rise and fall of empires. Rommath knew the path to power.

"I use the Broodmother to expand the Horde’s territory. I conquer new lands, earn merit, and secure a larger fiefdom. Perhaps... I can even establish a new kingdom."

"Once the Broodmother matures, as long as I have resources, I will have an endless army."

"Power is the only currency that matters. With power in hand, I can do as I please."

Submitting to the Stoneheart Horde had brought defeat, yes. But it also opened doors to a ceiling far higher than the Blood Elves could have reached alone.

Rommath realized now that reliance on a single race—the Blood Elves—was a dead end. To dominate, one had to embrace diversity. The path of the Horde was the path of unification.

"As long as the Giant King successfully opens his Divine Kingdom, he will need Ranchers—sub-rulers to manage his domains."

"When that time comes, I will build my nation. I will realize my dream."

The Blood Elf royal archives ran deep. Rommath knew the secrets of ascension. He knew what a Demigod needed to achieve godhood.

"By then, my Broodmother will be fully grown."

"A Broodmother... a future... a new kingdom..."

The epiphany struck him like a bolt of lightning. The road ahead, once shrouded in fog, was now crystal clear.

He stood up, the aura of a ruler returning to him.

"My Queen," Rommath said, his voice steady and commanding. "Fetch my formal robes."