Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Chapter 1567: The Fall of Dawnbreak

Far away, on another continent.

Just like the landmass housing the Stoneheart Horde, the continent home to the human kingdom had also undergone a massive geographical expansion. The war between humanity and the insectoid swarm was raging like wildfire. However, compared to the Stoneheart Horde, the human kingdom’s military might was tragically fragile. Under the suffocating siege of the swarm, numerous cities had already fallen. Countless humans—regardless of whether they were commoners or nobles, men or women, young or old—had been devoured, leaving nothing but barren ruins behind.

"Your Majesty, it’s over. It’s all over!" Grand Duke William’s voice was hoarse with despair, utterly broken. "Every single city has fallen, save for Dawnbreak! No one made it out alive. Not a single soul!"

Receiving such apocalyptic news, William couldn’t even keep a steady grip on his sword. The vast majority of his family resided outside the royal capital; they had all been slaughtered in the cataclysm.

"William, my old friend. How many years has it been since we first met?" Compared to the Grand Duke, King Harold appeared chillingly calm. Not a trace of sorrow marred his features. "I remember we were no more than six or seven. I visited your family’s estate, and we sparred with wooden swords. Neither of us was willing to yield."

Harold hauled his old friend to his feet, retrieved the fallen sword from the stone floor, and pressed it firmly back into William’s trembling hands.

"Do you remember the oath we swore back then?" Harold asked softly. "No matter how many thorns or trials paved the road ahead, we swore to be brave. To support each other. To bleed together and grow together."

"To safeguard the glory of the kingdom together, and protect the standing of the three great houses..." Following King Harold’s lead, William subconsciously began to recite the vows they had made as children. Slowly, the crushing despair in the Grand Duke’s eyes began to recede, replaced by a hardening resolve.

"I told you to bring your family to the capital so we could protect them together," Harold said, his voice dropping into a heavy timbre. "But you refused. You couldn’t shake off the archaic habits of the nobility. Always trying to leave an out for the family, always scattering your closest kin to the winds as a contingency. Old friend, the era has changed. You and I need to change. The empire’s systems and the unspoken rules of the aristocracy all need to be torn down and rebuilt."

This was the bitter truth Harold had gleaned after their exodus from the Titan Continent. He had desperately wanted to reform his nation, but it was too late. Setting aside the fact that Demigod Evander and Saint Noel sat above him, practically suffocating the throne, the empire was also surrounded by a pack of ravenous, ambitious neighboring states. Harold had yearned for revolution, but the fragile domestic and geopolitical climate forbade him from sparking any internal unrest.

And now, facing the apocalyptic juggernaut of the insectoid swarm, he and his kingdom were nothing but a candle in a hurricane, seconds away from being snuffed out forever.

"Harold... I regret it," William offered a ghastly, hollow smile, the raw sorrow in his eyes warring with his newfound resolve. "But it’s too late."

"We still have hope," Harold gripped William’s shoulder tightly. "As long as our Forefathers hold the line, Dawnbreak will not fall." The King spoke the words with conviction, though it was impossible to tell if he was trying to comfort the Grand Duke or delude himself.

"Right now, our only mandate is to slaughter the enemies desecrating our home!" King Harold channeled his towering grief and hatred into raw fury. Wearing his crown and gripping his holy sword, his eyes turned exceptionally cold. Infected by his old friend’s conviction, the murderous intent on William’s face thickened into a physical pressure.

BOOM!

However, the moment an earth-shattering explosion tore through the sky above Dawnbreak, their grief and killing intent were instantly vaporized, replaced by sheer, paralyzing horror.

High in the firmament, Saint Noel was bleeding out into the void. Besieged by three Archlord-tier Void-Fanged Insectoids, his life hung by a fraying thread.

The Saint’s imminent defeat acted as a catastrophic catalyst. Far on the horizon, from the peaks of Mount Demigod at the heart of the human kingdom, two blinding pillars of light erupted, illuminating the sky and the entire continent. Silhouetted against the blinding radiance, two colossal figures were locked in a brutal deathmatch, using the very heavens as their arena.

Yet, the terrifying, world-rending insectoid shrieks echoing across the sky forced Harold and William to accept a horrifying reality: their faith, their ultimate spiritual pillar, was collapsing right before their eyes. Faced with the swarm’s Demigod powerhouse, the Human Demigod, Evander, was being pushed to the absolute brink.

Pitter, patter.

Suddenly, a light drizzle began to fall from the sky. King Harold tilted his head up. A single droplet landed squarely in his eye, staining his vision crimson. It was blood.

"Fore... father..."

"No!" Harold screamed, his voice cracking in absolute madness. In the time it took him to look toward Mount Demigod, Saint Noel had been violently ripped apart by the Void-Fanged Insectoids. The Saint’s gruesome death triggered a torrential rain of divine blood across the realm.

"It’s over." This time, it wasn’t William who said it. It was Harold.

With the Human Saint slaughtered in battle and their Demigod pinned down, the human kingdom was truly, unequivocally finished.

For the next fifteen minutes, Harold and William abandoned all reason. They charged forward with raised swords, fulfilling their childhood oath to face the thorns and their enemies together.

Half a day later, the grand defensive wards shielding Dawnbreak violently shattered. Grand Duke William threw himself into the swarm and died in combat. Not even a scrap of his corpse remained.

King Harold plummeted from the sky, slamming brutally into the earth. Clinging to his final, ragged breath, he cast one last look toward the direction of the Titan Continent. Then, Harold’s vision went black. His era, and his world, took its final bow.

A short distance away, several mite-like insectoids scuttled forward at terrifying speed. In a matter of seconds, they stripped King Harold’s corpse clean, leaving nothing behind.

...

"Liars! Liars! You’re all damn liars!"

At Mount Demigod, the battlefield was a catastrophic nightmare. The Human Demigod, Evander, was completely locked down by the swarm’s Demigod powerhouse, rendering him physically incapable of rescuing his faithful subjects.

What suffocated Evander the most was that his opponent was a Second-Stage Demigod. Facing an entity possessing vastly superior raw power, Evander didn’t have a single opening to deploy his usual schemes or political machinations.

But his furious, despairing roar stemmed from another reason entirely: his reinforcements never came.

According to the ironclad pact he had forged with Orion, Seraphina, the Siren Demigod Kairon, and the Dragon Demigod Pyraxis Bloodflame, if any of their factions fell under attack, the others were sworn to deploy immediate aid. Yet, here he was, getting beaten within an inch of his life, and the horizon remained completely empty.

"Hehehe... Are you waiting for your little friends to come save you?" The voice was laced with sadistic mockery. "Stop dreaming. The rest of them are currently drowning in their own blood."

"Hahaha! Anyone who stands against the God-Devouring Insectoid Race will die!"

Horath’s laughter was manic and dripping with contempt. As one of the strongest Insect Kings serving directly under Insect Queen Moriphara, he found the human Demigod before him pathetically weak. He was simply indulging in a game of cat-and-mouse.

"Remember this as you burn: the one who ended you was the great Insect King Horath!"

The Human Demigod Evander had already been brutally crippled. Flashing a savage, predatory grin, Horath raised both his hands. Countless insectoid runes bled out from the deepest trenches of the void, rapidly condensing between his palms for the killing blow.