Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1291 Death is the only mercy they get
A message needed to be delivered by the Alliance of Four. The other three participants had to be shown that their covenant was more than mere ink on parchment—it was a bond tempered in blood and iron.
This demonstration was the top priority for the Blood Elf race. It was a brutal but necessary step.
"Patience," a whisper drifted through the shadows of the council hall. "News of this will circulate rapidly enough."
"Correct. The summit for the Alliance of Four is drawing near."
The Sixth Layer of the Abyss. The Donough Blood-Crow Nest.
The conflict here was raw, thunderous, and direct, bearing no resemblance to the subtle political maneuvering found within the Titanion Realm.
When the Conquest Legion mobilized, they didn't engage in minor scuffles; they conducted total purges.
Standing against them were the Chaos Demons. For these monsters, carnage was not a preference—it was a biological requirement. Devoid of any moral compass, they perceived existence only through the prism of blood and slaughter. They harbored no pity, driven solely by an insatiable hunger.
A lone Chaos Demon was a terror in its own right. However, when gathered into massive legions, they transformed into a force of nature.
The clash between the Chaos Demons and the Conquest Legion was sudden. There were no negotiations or warning volleys. The assault began the very instant the rival armies caught sight of one another.
From the sulfurous heavens to the shattered ground, the conflict consumed every inch of the field, drawing in everyone from the most powerful Arch Lord to the common thrall.
The earth surrounding the Donough Blood-Crow Nest began to crack under the intense pressure of magical discharge. Massive ravines, some stretching dozens of feet across, split the terrain as the demonic warfare hit its peak.
It was a festival of devastation.
"Anything standing in the way of the Scourge Wardens is destined for the grave," a raspy voice barked over the chaos. "Death is the only kindness they shall receive."
Leading the Scourge Wardens' charge were three Arch Lords: Eparus, Holrivus, and Thronlis. One carried a massive greatsword, the second a heavy lance, and the third a siege-class crossbow. Advancing in a disciplined triangle, they pierced the flank of the Chaos Demon horde like a blade finding a weakness in thick plate armor.
Since the opposing forces belonged to a Demigod faction, their ranks were reinforced by their own elite Arch Lord officers.
Almost immediately, six Chaos Demon Arch Lords burst from the heart of the Donough Blood-Crow Nest, ascending to intercept Eparus and his companions.
In the layers above the Third, few understood the true nature of the Doomguard or the Scourge Wardens. But here in the Sixth Layer, their legend was well-known. Driven by a primal terror, the Chaos Demon leaders emerged in full strength.
The Scourge Wardens were not a typical race. Even the Arch Lord-tier Chaos Demons felt an instinctive suppression in their presence—a biological hierarchy that identified them as apex predators.
"The Scourge Wardens?"
Watching the slaughter with cold amusement from the highest spire of the Donough Blood-Crow Nest was Eudan. "Quite daring. Even House Julius would hesitate to enlist that crowd."
He swirled the deep red liquid in his glass, taking a measured sip. "By choosing one side, you inevitably provoke the other. And that other side... well, they are certainly no walk in the park."
Eudan was genuinely startled by their appearance. He stood solitary on the roof, a calm island of luxury amidst a chaotic ocean of ruin. Although the land around his spire had been torn into deep canyons by stray magical bursts, his balcony remained untouched.
So, he decided to come in person, Eudan thought, his gaze sharpening.
He could sense it now—the freezing presence of the Deathly Soul-Reaper. Orion was approaching.
In the distance, mounted upon an Abyssal Dragon, Orion fixed his gaze on the noble demon atop the tower.
Only a peak Arch Lord?
Disappointment colored Orion's thoughts. He had assumed that anyone bold enough to strike his lands would be a Demigod—or someone standing at the threshold of that power. Discovering only a peak Arch Lord felt like showing up for a duel only to face a training dummy.
"Xalathar," Orion spoke with a calm authority. "Go. Slay every soul that dared set foot upon our soil."
Orion's body dissolved into a dark fog, vanishing from the dragon's back.
Unbound and thirsty for combat, Xalathar did not delay. With a roar, he threw himself toward the high-altitude battlefield where the Arch Lords were engaged. Having only recently reached the Arch Lord rank himself, he required this bloodshed to refine his power.
Back at the spire, the atmosphere turned oppressive.
Thrum.
It was the sound of a blade cutting through the very fabric of space.
Eudan's eyes snapped wide, his red pupils shaking with alarm. He didn't even have the chance to put down his wine before his torso was severed from his legs. He collapsed like a pile of wheat.
Yet, death did not claim him.
His upper and lower body turned into a pool of blood, splashing against the stone before swiftly reforming into a complete person a few steps away.
"A genuine Over-tier fighter. Curse it," Eudan spat.
Though he had reformed, fear danced in Eudan's eyes before he hid it behind a mask of mocking pride. Orion's strength far exceeded his calculations.
Envy burned in Eudan's chest. He despised geniuses of this caliber. However, that hatred provided a dark thrill; breaking a prodigy was far more rewarding than crushing a mere insect.
"You realize," Eudan shouted, adjusting his silk robes, "you've stepped into a situation you can't possibly resolve."
With a single blow, Orion had forced Eudan to expend one of his most valuable defensive treasures. The chasm between a peak Arch Lord and a Demigod—or someone who struck with that level of force—was immense. Eudan understood that a direct confrontation was suicide. The aura radiating from Orion was more crushing than even the Demigod shadows Eudan had met before.
Fighting was a losing game. It was time for talk.
"A situation?" Orion's voice echoed from all directions simultaneously. "Are you referring to yourself?"
Orion appeared and lunged with his scythe-spear. It was a relic-tier weapon, infused with the Laws of the Void and wreathed in the flames of Doomsday Fire.
The dark fire pierced Eudan's chest, vaporizing his vital organs instantly.
"You certainly possess many baubles," Orion remarked coldly.
He pulled back his weapon. Stuck to the tip was a charred, tiny demon figurine. It turned to ash, but the lingering scent of Demigod Laws remained in the air.
It was clearly the handiwork of a Demigod.
Orion looked at the dust of the figurine with passing interest before collecting the fragments.
I wonder, Orion thought, turning toward the spot where Eudan was once again emerging from the emptiness, how many lives do you have hidden in your pockets? How many times can you escape death today?
Eudan's expression was a twisted mask of rage and terror.
His strategy had been straightforward: trade a few hits, survive, and flee if necessary. He hadn't expected to be treated like a child. Orion wasn't merely powerful; he was a freak of nature.
"Listen to me!" Eudan shrieked, his poise completely gone. "Just before the Gray Realm vanished, you seized a prize that belonged to my forefather!"
Eudan leveled a trembling finger at the reaper. "Do you think I came here on a whim? You robbed us. Are you truly prepared to start a war with the Abyssal Ruler of the Sixth Layer?"
A malicious, winning grin spread across Eudan's face as he revealed his hidden card.
He noticed it—the slight twitch in the Deathly Soul-Reaper's brow.
Orion fell silent, his scythe-spear dipping slightly.
So, they figured it out, Orion realized.
Eudan wasn't bluffing. In the frantic final moments of the Unhallowed spore event, Orion had grabbed a gray crystal. It had been a split-second decision, fueled by his intense desire to break through to the Demigod realm.
He had known even then that such a theft might draw the ire of an Abyssal Ruler.