Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1343 The Witch and the Vultures

Kraken’s expression contorted into a smirk, flawlessly imitating the haughty arrogance typically displayed by the Sea Race toward outsiders. He was playing his part to perfection.

"Grand Marshal, let’s dispense with the theatrics," the Marilith Naga purred. Her voice flowed like liquid honey, carrying the kind of tone that promised forbidden delights. From Kraken's perspective, that specific inflection was usually reserved for women who understood exactly how to use their sexuality as a weapon.

Of course, the art of seduction and true intimacy were two entirely different matters.

Even though the Marilith Naga’s voice remained soft, her posture was stiff, exuding a sense of freezing superiority. She did not view him as a peer, but rather as an insect she hadn't yet decided to step on or trap in a jar.

"I am well aware of why you have come," Kraken remarked with a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Then you understand that I am offering a choice. And having options is quite the luxury, wouldn't you agree?"

Kraken was no naive newcomer. After spending years reincarnated as a colossal octopus, his personal tastes had… shifted. To his current eyes, this "breathtaking" Naga was less attractive than a sleek, magnetic cephalopod.

The silence lingered, heavy and uncomfortable, when Kraken failed to take the bait immediately.

He shattered the tension with a loud, purposeful laugh. "Hah! You haven’t even graced me with a name, beautiful."

"Is a name truly necessary?" she responded smoothly.

"I suppose not," Kraken said with a shrug. "However, even if we are presented with choices, we still need to examine the menu. I take it the Cult of Four has put together a significant list of incentives to purchase our allegiance?"

Before the Marilith Naga could answer, Kraken moved to the side, gesturing with an exaggerated, welcoming sweep of his arm. "After you."

The woman gave him a look that blended amusement with calculation before flashing a seductive smile. She slithered forward, leading her procession of Temple Knights into the center of Atlantis.

...

Hidden deep within the city behind sophisticated cloaking wards, Leonidas and Orion observed the parade.

"Brother, stop guessing. That is the Witch. One hundred percent," Leonidas whispered, his tone filled with total conviction.

"Are you certain?" Orion asked, giving him a doubtful look. "Are you only saying that because you slept with her or something?"

Leonidas rolled his eyes so intensely it looked painful. "Please. Physical bodies can be altered and forms can be changed through polymorphing, but the subconscious habits of a woman? Those are practically permanent."

He narrowed his gaze, a spark of sharp, predatory intelligence lighting up his eyes—a side of the usually loud warrior that Orion rarely witnessed. "The Witch doesn't even realize she’s doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Check the footwear. It’s a total giveaway." Leonidas pointed with a gloved finger. "High heels. Specifically combat stilettos. Have you ever seen a typical Naga sport high heels? And look at that corset—she ties the sash using a double butterfly knot. Those are her tells. They can't trick me. I happen to be one of the few individuals who knows her specific habits."

Orion blinked as the realization hit him. When he had scanned the envoy earlier, something had felt strange, yet he couldn't identify it. The high heels had appeared to be armored greaves fused to her lower body, so he hadn't given it a second thought. But with Leonidas pointing it out, the silhouette was undeniable.

"Damn," Orion whispered. "So, brother, if the Witch is here personally… do you think she’s bringing us a gift?"

Infiltrating the inner circle of the Cult of Four had been their objective for some time. It was a strategy involving high risk and high rewards. The most straightforward path was to pretend to join them, assist in crushing the Sea Race coalition that guarded the abyssal depths, and claim a seat of power.

However, that plan went against the core principles of Atlantis.

When Orion, Leonidas, and Kraken established this place, the mission was clear: pit the Cult of Four and the Sea Race against one another, carve out a third portion of the ocean’s resources, and harvest faith energy. They desired a three-way stalemate.

They had just barely managed to achieve that. But their success had attracted unwanted attention—both major powers were now keeping a close watch on Atlantis. The conflict between the Cult and the Sea Race had reached a standstill, mostly because Atlantis had become too significant to disregard.

"A gift?" Leonidas snorted. "More like a 'disaster.' Hulk, mark my words: The Witch doesn't hand out presents. She deals in schemes."

Leonidas was intimately familiar with the Witch’s methods. She operated through leverage and poison—both literal and figurative.

"Dammit. Speaking of fools, the Sea Race truly is brain-dead," Leonidas muttered, his focus turning to the other side of the war. "I have no idea how those demigods managed to advance their Cultivation with such low intelligence stats."

In the eyes of Leonidas, the Sea Race leadership within the Silverwood Realm was incredibly narrow-minded. They lacked any form of long-term vision.

"Think about it," Leonidas went on, getting more heated in his rant. "The Champions Alliance on the Moonlight Continent already defeated the Cult. If the Sea Race had any common sense, they would have gone to the surface, bowed down, and established a legitimate alliance with them."

"Right," Orion nodded. "A pincer movement."

"Exactly! They could have combined their top-tier combat strength. They could have driven the Cult of Four out of the Silverwood Realm entirely. Sure, the Sea Race would have had to sacrifice some territorial rights, but they would have survived. Instead? Ten years have passed, and they are still hiding in their shells, acting as if the Champions Alliance doesn't exist."

"If we can’t delay this any longer," Leonidas said, his voice turning cold and ruthless, "I’d honestly rather side with the Cult of Four than assist those stubborn fish-heads. Working with intelligent villains keeps you sharp. Working with idiots just gets you killed."

It was a chillingly logical assessment. The Sea Race refused to cooperate with the Moonlight Continent or The Demigod of the Moonwell because they were too greedy to share the sea. That very greed was going to destroy them. They were protecting a cake that was rapidly shrinking.

"Joining the Cult isn't the worst move," Orion contemplated. "But if we help them take over the ocean, aren't we just making the game harder for ourselves later?"

If the Cult of Four gained control of the seas, the Moonlight Continent would be turned into an isolated island, surrounded on all sides. It would be a slow death by strangulation.

Leonidas smirked, a wicked look that promised mayhem. "Heh. Hulk, why are you being so honest? We don't have to be their loyal dogs."

"You mean..."

"Why can't we be the vultures? Let them exhaust each other in the primary conflict. We will sandbag, do the absolute minimum, and then bring in the Deputy Commander to finish the job when everyone is spent."

Orion laughed. Compared to Leonidas, he still had a lot to learn about the art of deception.

Kraken and the Witch were still in the middle of their negotiations. The situation had not yet reached the point of no return. They still possessed room to maneuver.

Titanion Realm, Stoneheart City

Orion stepped through the portal three days after adding Seraphina to his group.

Seraphina, being a powerhouse at the demigod level, obviously did not accompany him to Stoneheart. The thought of her bowing to Lilith and "paying respects" to the primary wife was absurd. If Marina could not be tamed, Seraphina was certainly not going to act as a submissive housewife.

Orion didn't even attempt to force the issue. Given Lilith's current power, asking her to oversee a harem of alpha females was a certain path to a disaster. The smartest move was the path of least resistance: allowing the powerful women to simply ignore each other's existence.

Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

The news of Orion’s return had struck Stoneheart like a bolt of lightning. The entire city was pulsing with a frantic energy.

From the high balcony of his stronghold, Orion could feel it. Massive waves of fanatical faith energy were surging toward him, heavy and unrelenting. It went beyond mere admiration; it was pure worship. The intensity of it was shocking, even to him.