Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1303 The Architects of War

Bidalun grasped the underlying meaning at once.

The Conquest Legion was not acting in isolation; they possessed powerful patrons and influential allies.

As this realization dawned on him, the tightness that had gripped Bidalun’s shoulders finally eased.

In truth, the common Abyssal legions massing at the frontier did not cause Bidalun much concern. The Foundry Citadel was currently defended by two full-strength armies, totaling millions of soldiers. Should their neighbors attempt to challenge the Citadel’s fortifications, it would merely provide the troops with superb live-fire combat experience.

His true anxiety lay with the Demigods. However, if Orion possessed a strategy to neutralize them, the remaining issues were simply matters of logistics.

"My Lord," Bidalun remarked, his thoughts already pivoting toward tactical execution. "I suggest we launch a series of bounty contracts immediately. We can utilize our wealth and resources to draw in independent groups, mercenary warbands, and the lawless factions residing within our borders."

"Let them spill their blood on our behalf. We can tether their goals to the Conquest Legion through the promise of riches and localized authority."

The reasoning Bidalun employed was calculated and cold: the outsourcing of slaughter.

By turning the local dregs into mercenaries, he could establish a buffer of expendable fodder to deplete the enemy’s ranks before the regular military even needed to engage.

"Approved," Orion declared from his throne. "Proceed with the preparations."

Utilizing the private sector via mercenary agreements was not a groundbreaking concept; it was a standard method within the Abyss. Many Abyssal Lords favored delegating their grim tasks to third parties.

Furthermore, it served as a means to revitalize the local economy.

The Foundry Citadel was destined to encounter relentless trials in the days ahead. Merging these scattered, lawless elements into a unified auxiliary force was a brilliant long-term strategy. The investment was minor—a portion of the loot and a shred of power—but the return was a living shield that spanned for miles.

Orion held his own views on Abyssal rule. Power cemented by profit was frequently more resilient than power maintained through terror alone.

Once the command was issued, the mood within the Foundry Citadel once again pivoted toward conflict. Yet, this was the Abyss. War was not a rare event; it was a daily reality.

Valkorath Realm. The Primordial Void.

Immersed deep within the Seed, Orion remained entirely unaware of the schemes unfolding in the Abyss or the gathering of the Stoneheart Horde.

He resembled a celestial egg, quietly traversing the most arduous stage of being: the transition from Zero to One.

Orion had successfully evolved from a dormant state into a young sapling.

It was a resilient, stubborn lifeform, anchoring its roots into the surrounding void.

Four distinct branches had sprouted from the sapling. Each one vibrated with a different primal element, serving as the foundation of his developing reality. These represented the physical forms of the laws Orion had mastered—Slaughter, Destruction, Sin, and Bloodline.

They had now transformed, channeling back into the World Tree to become the cornerstones of his emerging universe.

In spanning the void between non-existence and life, Orion’s creative act was a fundamental triumph. Nevertheless, the labor was far from finished.

He now had to push the roots of the World Tree deeper into the chaos, piercing the boundaries of the distant void to extract the essence of the Primordial Soup.

This process demanded extreme patience and steady accumulation.

Orion required the World Tree to expand the physical scale of his internal realm. He needed to foster the spark of life, awaken the sleeping elements, and give birth to the first generation of indigenous beings.

Orion’s method of Cultivation and ascension differed fundamentally from that of Leonidas, Arthas, or Alexander. He was not merely hoarding Divine Power to trigger a change; he was enlarging the vessel itself.

He was a World Creator.

As his internal world expanded, the complexity of the laws it could support grew. Once the world achieved critical mass, divinity would not be bestowed upon him; it would be produced by him. He would command the Genesis Power of a Creator God.

Having survived the most perilous stage, Orion now rested in the void, gathering strength. He was preparing to tread a path into the Demigod realm that was far more extensive—and far broader—than any other.

The World Tree flourished. Orion remained in slumber. And the future loomed.

Titanion Realm. The Northern Bastion of Menethis.

Recently, the Human Kingdom had witnessed the development of two major hubs. One was the commercial center of Soaring Bird City in the south, while the other was the steel stronghold of Menethis in the north.

Menethis was a city forged through war. Constructed on lands captured from non-human tribes, it was a massive fortress and a colossal military-industrial center.

It also served as the personal domain of Prince Theodore.

The city stood as the physical proof of Theodore’s influence. Its building had emptied his coffers and used up his political capital, leaving him heavily in debt.

Yet, the risk had been worth it. The stronghold was now unassailable.

Utilizing Menethis, the Kingdom had initiated a broad colonization of the northern frontiers. Virtually overnight, it had transformed into one of the two hearts of the nation.

Today, the massive iron gates of Menethis swung wide to greet the future of the Alliance of Four.

Over ten years had passed since the conclusion of the last conflict. Prince Theodore now wore a neatly trimmed, short beard. His youthful appearance had vanished, replaced by the somber, steady presence of a seasoned general.

For a Prince of the Human Kingdom like Theodore to ride out personally to greet visitors meant the guests held significant status.

A cloud of dust rose in the distance.

The ground began to vibrate with a rhythmic, seismic thud as thousands of heavy hooves struck the frozen earth.

The cries of beasts echoed over the horizon like rolling thunder. Then, they appeared over the ridge—a dark tide of iron and muscle.

Ten thousand Raptor Heavy Cavalry.

Thirty thousand Wolf-Riders of the standing army.

The Stoneheart Horde had arrived. At the head of the formation were the First Daughter, Elara, and the Giant Prince, Pallas.

"Your Highnesses! Welcome to the Bastion of Menethis!"

Theodore moved forward, his voice carrying over the roar of the approaching host.

"Prince Pallas... look at you. Large, powerful, and brimming with strength. You are the perfect image of your father, the Giant King, during his greatest years!"

Theodore got off his horse and welcomed Elara and Pallas with the formality required for national leaders. despite the age difference, they were equals in the political hierarchy.

Theodore’s praise was sincere. Pallas, nearing maturity, looked remarkably like the Orion who had marched south years ago during the initial Civil War.

However, because of Pallas’s youth, his presence was raw and untamed. The fierce, berserker Qi unique to the Giants was more evident in him. To Theodore, this young giant felt more like the legendary "Giant King"—a raw force of nature—whereas Orion had evolved into something far more daunting and mysterious.

"My mother sends her best," Pallas said with a grin, gripping Theodore’s arm. "She informed us that Prince Theodore of the Human Kingdom is a man of great intellect and class, a respected leader who deserves our honor."

Lilith had given them a thorough briefing before their departure. Her opinion of Theodore was high; she saw him as the next legendary ruler of the Human Kingdom.

For the coming war, King Harold had withdrawn. The spotlight now belonged to Theodore.

With his individual power reaching the Legendary rank and his control over the northern front being absolute, Theodore was the anchor of the human military. He was the one holding the reins of power.