Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1514: Beyond the Circle

The release of the egg was a calculated maneuver. It was a stimulus package designed to force the hoarding clans to spend their stagnant wealth.

This was the beginning of a trend. Lilith was intentionally bolstering the internal strength of the Horde through these "welfare" schemes.

The cycle was elegant: Exchange resources for a Broodmother. Raise the Broodmother to breed a swarm. Use the swarm to fight for the Horde. Convert military victories into Merit Points.

And with Merit Points, the treasury’s artifacts—and the ultimate dream of landed titles—were no longer just fantasies. They were attainable realities.

"Lucky bastard," Tristan murmured, nodding in agreement with Nico. "Whoever wins that egg... their family has a dynasty secured."

Since the egg was being sold internally, the price would be capped. It was a gift, but only for those with the capital to unwrap it.

"That’s why you have to stack your deck," Nico said, sliding a bone tile from the center of the table. It was a brotherly reminder. "When the opportunity comes, you need the hand to play it."

"Opportunity means nothing without the strength to seize it," Kadir added quietly. He drew a tile as well, his face unreadable. He didn’t play it. He just held it, watching.

"Too rich for my blood. I fold," Tristan shrugged, drawing a tile anyway just to keep his hands busy.

"Hahaha! Tristan Greymount, don’t worry about the egg. I need management talent," Nico laughed, shifting the topic back to business. "I don’t care about their race. If they can work, I’ll take them."

Since none of the three had the standing to compete for the Broodmother, Nico focused on what he could control.

"Anyone who bears the Colosseum’s brand becomes one of us," Nico said smoothly.

He was asking for high-grade slaves. Combatants, administrators, specialized support staff—he needed bodies to keep the machine running. The Colosseum was a hungry beast, and if the war effort demanded it, he would need to deploy his gladiators to the front lines. He needed a deep bench.

"I’ve already put the word out on the cross-realm channels," Tristan assured him. "We’ll have results soon."

World of Eldoria, Temple of Terminus.

Seated upon the throne, Orion’s eyes were closed, his expression one of solemn concentration.

He was being watched.

Countless monstrosities in the Void—the Zeythan Dreadfin—had their eyes fixed on his location. Yet, Orion remained unmoved.

In truth, Orion had no idea how he appeared to them. To the entities of the Void, he might look like a painting, a twisted tree, or perhaps a jagged mountain. Whatever his form, he had to summon the roots of the World Tree right under their noses.

If the roots were discovered and severed, the backlash would be catastrophic. Caution was paramount.

Orion extended his hand. It appeared empty.

Simultaneously, he projected his senses into the Void, monitoring the Zeythan Dreadfin Race. He watched for a twitch, a shift in focus, any sign that they perceived his movement.

If they reacted, he would abort immediately.

Fortunately, the monsters remained still. Their gazes were heavy, but static. They didn’t seem to perceive the motion on the throne.

They can’t see me, Orion concluded. Or at least, my current state isn’t registering in their dimension.

Still, paranoia was a survival trait. He needed to be sure.

A trident materialized in his hand—a high-quality weapon, its tips crackling with condensed lightning.

He mimed a throwing motion, eyes locked on the monsters.

He hurled the trident. It flew out, pierced the empty air, and returned to his hand in an instant.

No reaction. Not a single flinch from the Zeythan Dreadfin.

Confirmed. They are blind to me.

So how in the hell did Leonidas get caught?

The mystery of his brother’s failure lingered, but Orion pushed it aside. He needed to escalate the test.

He dismissed the physical weapon. In its place, a new trident formed—this one woven entirely from Faith Energy. It was a construct of the Agaman Holy Order, a Templar’s weapon of mass destruction.

The moment it appeared, it radiated a terrifying, holy pressure.

Orion repeated the motion. Throw. Retract.

The monsters didn’t even blink.

Good.

Unless the Zeythan Dreadfin were collectively brilliant actors capable of elaborate deceit, he was safe. And for the sake of power, he had to take the risk.

Orion steadied his breathing. He reached out with his mind, beginning the arduous process of dragging the Divine Kingdom closer to the World of Eldoria.

The Void. The Gate of Vigilance.

To the Zeythan Dreadfin, the "Gate" was nothing more than a colossal tombstone floating in the nothingness.

In the past, whenever this tombstone cracked, it revealed a tunnel—a passage to a beautiful, vibrant world.

Desperate not to miss the chance to invade, almost the entire Zeythan Dreadfin race had gathered around the Gate, watching it with obsessive intensity.

Not long ago, a Dragon Soul had slipped through the cracks. It had managed to deceive the lower-tier monsters, but just as it prepared to explore, the Ancestors—the Demigod-level Dreadfins—had awakened and devoured it.

To the monsters, that event was a revelation.

It meant that on the other side of the tombstone, there were entities interested in their world.

If the outsiders were curious, they might try to break the seal. And if the seal was damaged even slightly, the Ancestors could combine their strength to shatter it completely and flood into the new world.

Since the Dragon Soul incident, the Ancestors, who usually slumbered in the deep dark, kept their eyes wide open, fixated on the Gate.

"Which fool do you think is interested in this sunless hell?" one of the entities projected, its thought-voice dripping with boredom.

For the Zeythan Dreadfin, the Void was both paradise and prison. They were immortal here, capable of infinite rebirth, but the eternal silence drove them to madness.

Every single one of them yearned for the world beyond the seal. Even if they died over there, it would be a glorious, epic adventure compared to this stagnation. Besides, death wasn’t permanent. They would simply reform in the Void after a time, slightly weaker but alive.