Read Novel Full Chapter 1528: Forged to Serve
Chapter 1528: Forged to Serve
As Lilith’s personal aide, Butterfly Mother Sophia was privy to a great deal of classified intelligence. She knew perfectly well that Kaelen had only been assigned the task of purging the feral swarms because Orion and Lilith were quietly pulling strings for him. The underlying intent was to give Kaelen a golden opportunity to build his prestige within the Horde while the three senior giant princes were away.
Yet, here he was, allowing himself to slack off.
"Go. The battlefield is where you belong," Sophia commanded. "As for her, she stays by my side. I will return her to you when I deem the time is right."
Her tone was absolute, brooking no argument. In this fleeting moment, Butterfly Mother Sophia finally bared a glimpse of the same terrifying, domineering will she had displayed back when she first forcefully claimed Orion as her own.
Kaelen’s face burned with profound shame. Without so much as a parting glance at Melissa, he turned on his heel and marched out of the tent, heading straight for the military encampment.
A chaotic symphony of galloping mounts and roaring beasts soon followed outside. Only when Kaelen had finally led his army out of the city of Sophia did Sophia’s calm voice break the heavy silence of the tent.
"As you are now, you are not qualified to be Kaelen’s wife," Sophia said flatly. "You do not even possess the qualifications to be his aide."
Sophia knew full well that the Stoneheart Horde had no shortage of broodmothers. If they did, they would never have allowed a broodmother egg to be sold at a public auction. What the Horde desperately lacked were brilliant, worldly, and highly capable administrators—versatile talents who could manage the grand scheme of an empire. Any woman chosen to wed a giant prince had to possess these exact qualities. The Stoneheart Horde was entering an era where simply conquering new lands was no longer enough; they needed to meticulously govern and develop the territories they had already claimed.
"I understand your ambition. A powerful Insect King naturally draws the devotion and submission of any broodmother," Sophia continued, her tone suddenly softening, losing its sharp edge. "You are merely the first, but you will certainly not be the last. As he grows, broodmothers far older and vastly more powerful than you will flock to his side."
She looked at Melissa with a profoundly complex gaze—a mixture of appreciation and pity, disdain and genuine expectation.
In truth, Melissa and Sophia shared remarkably similar dispositions. Melissa taking the initiative to bind herself to Kaelen and Sophia aggressively claiming Orion were cut from the very same cloth. In Melissa’s bold gamble, Sophia recognized sharp intellect and ruthless decisiveness; she was a broodmother with true foresight. By keeping Melissa close, Sophia fully intended to mentor and mold her personally. After all, when the time came, Kaelen was going to need highly capable advisors at his side.
"You will begin as a handmaid. You will learn the humility of serving tea and pouring water. Do you have any objections?" Though phrased as a question, her tone made it brutally clear that Melissa’s actual opinion did not matter in the slightest.
"None at all. Melissa submits to Mother’s arrangements," Melissa replied, shaking her head. There was no trace of anger or resistance in her voice.
Sophia glanced at her, a flicker of genuine approval flashing in her eyes. For Melissa to swallow her pride and respectfully address her as ’Mother’ demonstrated remarkable emotional intelligence. She was definitely worth cultivating.
"Then we begin now," Sophia sighed. "I am exhausted. Prepare my bath and my change of clothes."
...
Meanwhile, in the Nightmare world, within the second layer of the reality bubbles.
It was an incredibly bizarre sensation. Orion’s Death-Soul avatar felt the bubble encasing him collide with a much larger sphere, seamlessly merging into it.
When his vision cleared, an unfathomable titan stood before him. The entity was indescribably colossal, its sheer scale evoking a profound, primal sense of insignificance within Orion’s mind.
The titan stood suspended in a cosmic expanse, rhythmically hammering away at something. To be precise, Orion found himself floating in a pocket dimension of pure void. There was no solid ground beneath his feet, nor a true canopy of stars above—only an endless, sprawling emptiness stretching into the horizon.
"Wait," the titan rumbled, his voice like grinding tectonic plates. He didn’t bother to look up or even spare Orion a single glance.
Not too far from where Orion hovered, another figure stood—a completely silent silhouette wreathed in shadows, evidently waiting its turn as well.
BOOM! An ear-splitting shockwave violently snapped Orion’s attention forward. A massive, semi-translucent hammer had materialized in the giant’s grasp. The weapon was so titanically huge it practically blotted out the void, dominating Orion’s entire field of vision. Wherever the hammer struck, brilliant sparks of cosmic fire erupted, only to be snuffed out like blown candles, leaving absolutely nothing in their wake.
What exactly is he hammering? Orion wondered, thoroughly intrigued by the colossal being’s actions. This is a forbidden sanctuary of the Death-Soul Race. This must be the second trial. Is this stage meant to test a challenger’s prowess in artifact forging?
The titan’s next actions immediately shattered that theory.
"Your turn," the titan sighed as the last of the cosmic sparks faded.
He turned his monolithic head toward the shadowed figure standing near Orion. Reaching out with a hand the size of a mountain, the giant scooped up the silent silhouette and placed it squarely on the invisible anvil he had just been striking. Throughout the entire process, the shadow offered zero resistance.
What happened next, however, left Orion staring in wide-eyed, slack-jawed horror.
The titan raised both hands, summoning the gargantuan, ethereal hammer once more. With a deafening roar, he swung the colossal weapon down, smashing it mercilessly into the shadowed figure.
"You mortals are like cosmic dust," the titan bellowed, his voice echoing through the endless void—perhaps offering an explanation for the benefit of the newcomer, Orion. "You gleam on the outside, yet your cores are hollow and fragile. I use the void as my furnace, the stars as my fire, and the supreme will of the ancestors as my hammer to reforge you. Endure three thousand strikes, and you shall pass this trial."
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The relentless, earth-shattering impacts sent a chill racing down Orion’s spine. The shadowed figure, which had remained perfectly stoic until now, finally broke. After enduring a hundred brutal strikes, it unleashed a harrowing shriek of pure agony. The sound was profoundly unnatural—it didn’t sound like a living mortal at all, but rather the screech of a demonic spirit.
"Wind and thunder, aid me! Shall it be pulverization, obliteration, or rebirth?!" the titan roared, utterly indifferent to the shadow’s excruciating torment.
The speed of his swings increased exponentially, blurring into a terrifying frenzy until he approached the milestone of the one-thousandth strike.
"A thousand tempers, a thousand strikes—the divine physique takes form!"
It was both a solemn warning and a prophecy of power. Suddenly, the primal Laws of wind, lightning, and pure destruction manifested around the massive hammer head. Wreathed in catastrophic elemental energy, the weapon slammed down onto the shattered shadow.
In an instant, the agonizing shrieks ceased completely. Beneath the apocalyptic force of the hammer, the shadowy figure was atomized, completely erased from existence.
"A pity. What a profound pity," the giant rumbled sorrowfully.
The one who had just perished was his own kin—a highly gifted warrior of the Death-Soul Race. Yet, when it came to this sacred crucible of forging, there was no room for mercy or sentimentality.
"Your turn," the titan declared. "As you have witnessed, there is no turning back."
The titanic hand reached out, descending upon Orion. It was an inescapable, irresistible force; Orion could do absolutely nothing but let himself be captured. Exactly as before, Orion’s Death-Soul avatar was dragged into the center of the void and locked immovably onto the invisible anvil.
"Wind and thunder, aid me! Shall it be pulverization, obliteration, or rebirth?!"
With a deafening, cosmos-shaking roar, the titan brought down the very first strike.