Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1297 The Lords of Atlantis

A hunger for radiance consumed it. It thirsted for vibrant hues, dreaming of a destiny that had yet to take shape.

This was the dawn of a new existence.

A strange, quiet wonder was unfolding. Amidst this spiritual transformation, Orion remained completely oblivious to the fact that his soul and mind were shifting—metamorphosing into an entity he would eventually fail to recognize as himself.

Orion was evolving.

Within the Open Sea of the Silverwood Realm.

A thunderous cry tore through the silent depths, followed by a massive silhouette slicing through the pitch-black abyss.

Two eyes, shimmering with a wicked red glow, pierced the dark like twin beacons. They were the eyes of a true apex predator—an Abyssal Dreadfin.

A frantic swarm of Sea-Drakes fled in terror before this titan.

These beings were a blight upon the deep. Categorized as a lesser branch of sea serpents, they were dim-witted, collective-minded scavengers notorious for overwhelming and feeding upon true dragons. Their infestation of the Riptide Reach currents had turned these fertile waters into a desolate wasteland. To the other Sea Races, they were a spreading sickness; they permitted no other life to thrive within their borders.

However, the roles had shifted: the hunters were now the hunted.

In a desperate bid for life, the Drakes merged into a single, twisting pillar of jagged teeth and scales, attempting to outpace the horror at their heels.

Orion, inhabiting his Abyssal Dreadfin avatar, did not merely slaughter them. He controlled them.

He snapped up any stragglers at the back of the pack, his massive jaws splintering bone and armor with gruesome efficiency, forcing the terrified swarm toward the great oceanic slipstreams. He was purging the filth. Once the Drakes were caught in the main current's flow, they would be swept far away, left to find some other dark corner to plague.

Only through this cleansing would Riptide Reach be purified. Only then would it be fit for the arrival of Orion and Leonidas.

Three days later, the extermination reached its end. The final remnants of the Sea-Drakes were swept into the current and disappeared into the blue distance, scattered to seek out new territories.

The Abyssal Dreadfin turned around, its enormous tail driving it back toward their budding domain: Atlantis.

The name had been decided by the leading trio—Leonidas, Orion, and Kraken.

Atlantis. The land of promise. A haven for every member of the Sea Races.

The Dragon Nest, a magnificent structure gifted by Leonidas, stood at the center of this submerged capital. Within the primary hall, the three leaders had compressed their massive statures into human-like forms.

They sat in a circle, flanked by the initial group of refugees—the Shellfolk.

The Shellfolk followed a matriarchal social order, possessing exquisite, wing-shaped shells on their backs. When threatened, they could pull their bodies entirely into these hardened shields. For generations, they had been the prey of Sea-Drakes, existing in constant terror. Now, they wandered through the Dragon Nest carrying platters of delicacies and spirits, attending to their protectors not as slaves, but out of heartfelt loyalty.

“Bottoms up, boys!”

Leonidas hoisted a goblet, his voice echoing through the chamber. He wasn't intoxicated, but he was exhilarated by their triumph.

“To the beginning. To Atlantis!”

He made a sweeping motion, ensuring his voice reached the ears of the Shellfolk. “From this moment on, this is the sanctuary of the Sea Races. A sovereign city where not even the Demigods hold power!”

Leonidas, the Grand Marshal. Orion, the Second Marshal. Kraken, the Third Marshal.

A Dragon, a Dreadfin, and a Kraken. It was the most chaotic and formidable alliance the ocean had ever witnessed.

After refilling the cups, the Shellfolk retreated quietly, allowing the commanders to discuss their next moves.

“Those filthy serpents are finally gone,” Leonidas remarked, reclining comfortably. “We’re sitting on a literal goldmine. Riptide Reach is the hub for four major currents and endless smaller ones. It is the ultimate trade artery.”

He smirked, swirling the wine in his glass. “Millions of travelers from the Sea Races navigate these waters annually. In three years' time, everyone from the surface world to the deepest abyss will recognize Atlantis as the place to be.”

Leonidas possessed a keen sense for strategic territory. He was arrogant, but his logic was sound.

“During times of peace, these would be the most fought-over waters on the map,” Orion chimed in, his voice sounding more guttural than usual. “But during a war, it’s a wasteland. It’s far too vulnerable.”

He was right. A grand city had flourished here before the Sea-Drakes arrived. But when the Cult of Four launched their invasion, the city was deserted, leaving only ruins for the bottom-feeders.

“Hell, it doesn't matter who claimed this place before,” Kraken chuckled, draining his wine in a single gulp.

The giant octopus—now appearing as a muscular man—exhaled a satisfied breath.

For hundreds of years, Kraken had acted as a solitary predator. He had carved out his existence with his own strength, battling for every resource. It had been a grueling life.

But now? Progress was happening at a lightning pace. Alongside Leonidas and Orion, barriers that would have hindered Kraken for decades were demolished in a matter of days. This cooperation was intoxicating. He was finally beginning to see the value of having allies.

“Just you wait,” Leonidas said, sampling a dish of roasted kelp made by the Shellfolk. “Once we start making waves, both the Sea Race alliance and the Cult of Four will come looking for us. We have to be prepared.”

“The foundation is laid,” Orion said, stretching his limbs. “Now we require power. We need patrols. We need sentries.”

Orion was finding more satisfaction in this avatar than he had anticipated.

While driving the Sea-Drakes away, he hadn't merely slain them. He had consumed them. Raw.

In his past life, the thought of eating a sentient being without cooking it first would have made him sick. Now? It didn't bother him at all.

Meat was simply fuel. Power was the only goal.

He could feel a primal, boundless craving growing within his soul—an urge to devour the entire world.

“Squids, that task falls to you,” Orion said, glancing at Kraken. “We don’t need a full-scale army yet. Just basic protection.”

Leonidas gave a nod of approval. “Exactly. Our aim isn't to look like a conquering force. That would only frighten the locals. We want to bring the residents into the fold. Let them be the ones to guard their own home.”

Kraken smirked, a look of focused confidence appearing on his features. “Consider it handled. I’ve already put out the word. The new recruits are on their way.”