Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1345 Greed and destruction

Orion vanished from his throne a moment later, leaving behind nothing but a slight disturbance in the air.

When he materialized again, a globule of shimmering, void-dark fluid rested in his palm. The liquid spiraled within itself like a captive hurricane, completely ignoring the laws of gravity.

This object was the [Bloodline Awakening Pool], a sacred tribal artifact of the Giants. It had served as the source of their strength for countless generations. However, for the Stoneheart Horde—a messy collection of succubi, gnolls, obsidian golems, and various other species—it was becoming irrelevant. It was a tool designed for a solitary race, making it useless for the multi-species empire Orion intended to build.

The time for an evolution had arrived.

"Hold on tight," Orion grunted.

He tapped his shoulder, and Elara reacted instantly. With practiced grace, she leaped up and secured herself against his collarbone, preparing for the transition.

Before she could blink, a spatial vortex tore open behind Orion. To Elara's perception, the environment didn't merely blur; it flipped upside down. She felt as if she and Orion were being crushed and dragged through a needle's eye into a boundless internal cosmos.

They had crossed into the Divine Kingdom: the [Stratum of Asura].

Once the spatial dizziness faded, they stood before a massive edifice that exuded both ancient malice and regal splendor—the [Stoneheart Temple].

"Hail the Prime!"

"Glory to the Prime!"

The ground trembled under the booming shouts of the Stoneheart Titan guards. They dropped to one knee, their armored bodies forming a corridor of steel and absolute devotion.

Orion gave a small nod of acknowledgment before pointing toward the little girl perched on his shoulder.

"This is Elara," he declared, his voice booming through the holy grounds. "The First Daughter of the Stoneheart Horde."

This was more than a simple introduction; it acted as a command code. As the words left his lips, the Temple's ambient magical aura shifted, identifying Elara not as a stranger, but as recognized family.

Orion turned his head, his expression softening as he met her eyes. "Sweetheart, this is the Temple. Within these walls, you will encounter a [Mountain of Bones] and a [Sea of Blood]. If you can cross them, you will obtain what you asked for."

He lingered on his words, the gravity of the choice filling the air. "Are you still certain you want to go?"

When Orion originally adopted Elara, it had been a tactical decision—a test to see if a World-Spirit could bring prosperity to his lands. Over time, however, that cold logic had transformed into deep affection. He cherished this little spirit more than his own flesh and blood, like Pallas or Kronos. Pallas represented duty, but Elara held his heart.

Granting her his bloodline was his method of making their bond eternal. If she succeeded, she wouldn't just be his daughter by choice; she would truly be a Titan.

"Daddy, just wait right here," Elara chirped, her grin radiant and unafraid. "I'll be back before you know it."

She leaned over, giving his cheek a loud, messy kiss. Then, in a burst of light, she teleported from his shoulder to the Temple's entrance. Without pausing for even a second, she walked into the darkness.

Inside, the true nature of the [Stoneheart Temple] was revealed. It was a nightmare realm where mountains were built from calcified bones and oceans boiled with thick, churning blood.

To achieve the ultimate combat form—possessing four heads and eight arms—one had to master both terrains.

For Orion's direct bloodline, this power was an inheritance. For the rest of the Stoneheart Horde, however, the Temple was the only way to ascend. It served as a violent filter. If a golem or a gnoll desired to become a Stoneheart Titan, they had to endure this trial. Survival relied on willpower, physical toughness, and bloodline affinity. To fail was to die.

The mutation was categorized into twelve distinct phases. Each stage reached granted the Cultivator an extra arm or head.

Orion wasn't merely pampering Elara; he was using her attempt as a trial run. He needed to observe how a non-giant entity handled the transformation. As a World-Spirit, Elara was a being of pure elemental essence. Orion believed her genetic standing was superior to most biological life, perhaps even rarer than pure elementals.

His bloodline had been tempered in the Primordial Void and was capable of creating worlds. Elara's form should be the ideal vessel for such power.

As Elara vanished into the shadows, Orion looked at the dark sphere in his hand. He threw the [Bloodline Awakening Pool] into the Temple's maw.

It was immediate destruction.

The ancient artifact didn't survive three seconds. The Temple's overwhelming energy dismantled it instantly, evaporating the pool into a mist and absorbing its core essence into the [Sea of Blood].

Orion's rise to Demigod status had done more than give the Horde a leader; it had fundamentally rewritten their evolutionary destiny. The Temple would now refine the bloodlines of his followers, but only for those with strength. The weak would be discarded.

He would force no one to enter. For the next few generations, the path remained open to all. After that, ascending to a Titan would require specific Battle Achievements. The era of easy growth was ending.

While Orion calculated the details of this mass transition, Elara stepped into the blood.

***

Eons ago, in a realm far removed from this one, there existed a magical world called Elementhia.

In its early days, it was a paradise. Mana was abundant, and the ecosystems flourished. From lush green forests to sparkling seas, the world was filled with ancient landmarks and massive underground veins of enchanted ore.

This wealth led to the creation of five primary power centers: [The Source of Life], [The Heart of Fire], [The Soul of Water], [The Force of Earth], and [The Wings of Hurricane].

Civilizations gathered around these points, eventually forming the Five Great Schools of Magic.

The history of Elementhia became defined by these five groups. It was a tale of rivalry, differing philosophies, and blood feuds lasting centuries. They fought over land, resources, and the "true" way to wield mana.

By the final era of Elementhia, the constant warfare between the Five Schools had soaked the planet in slaughter. The collective spiritual weight of billions of deaths began to gather and rot.

From this pool of bitterness and decay, a sixth power rose: [The Vessel of Souls].

This was the dawn of Necromancy.

This new path was the opposite of the natural world. It stood in direct opposition to Life, Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind. Its techniques were grim, violent, and highly effective.

However, the emergence of Necromancy did not force the other five groups to work together. Instead, it pushed Elementhia into total ruin.

As a fledgling art, the [Vessel of Souls] was initially weak. It could not challenge the established schools in open combat. But the necromancers found a flaw in reality. The vengeful ghosts of Elementhia didn't just fade; they flowed toward the Abyss, toward Hell.

The necromancers learned to exploit that flow. Using souls as a form of payment, they established a bridge to the Infernal Planes.

That was the turning point. It was also the start of the catastrophe.

Fueled by forbidden secrets, the [Vessel of Souls] grew prideful. In their most insane plot, they built a massive ritual circle, intending to summon and bind a Lord of Hell to serve as their ultimate weapon.

They succeeded in the summoning.

They failed to control it.

The ritual circle snapped. The protective barrier crumbled. And Elementhia fell under the gaze of a Hell Lord.

Avarice and ruin arrived hand in hand.