Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1355 The Weight of a Gift

The shock washed over Tangere like the initial beam of sunlight piercing a frozen horizon—radiant, intense, and completely life-altering.

Standing within the inner sanctum of his Mage Tower, Tangere gazed at the nine treasures spread across the obsidian surface. Every item was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, pulsing with raw power.

A set of Dragonscale Leather Armor, a scroll inscribed with a Forbidden Spell, a peculiar token vibrating with resonance, a cryptic statue of black gold, a slumbering Dragon Egg, and a Conch Fortress habitat... these were all artifacts he had once only dared to envision in his wildest fantasies.

Now, they belonged to him.

"Is this real life?" he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.

I've actually partnered with Demigods, he mused, his thoughts spinning wildly. What kind of insane organization have I stumbled into?

I've been chosen.

The sheer magnitude of these offerings from the Champions Alliance left Tangere reeling. The surge of adrenaline was fierce, nearly reaching a breaking point. It was especially staggering after Orion had nonchalantly revealed the truth: every other member of the squad was more powerful than him.

"Calm down," he muttered, splashing some cold water on his face, though his heart continued to hammer against his ribs. "Get a grip."

If I was chosen, it means I have value. It means I bring something to the table that they need.

This isn't the time to get cocky. It's time to get to work.

Tangere paced the chamber, his state of shock evolving into a sharp, hyper-focused resolve.

I need to manage these relationships perfectly. Whatever task the team hands me, I don't just need to finish it—I need to crush it.

Orion's claim that he would introduce him to "a few friends" had proven to be the understatement of the century. Tangere felt a certain conviction that his life was about to launch into the stratosphere.

Silverwood Realm, Atlantis

The Witch, serving as the emissary for the Cult of Four, had concluded her visit.

Deep within Current's Bend, the three Sea Marshals remained in their private hall, served by silent, elegant siren attendants.

"Honorary High Priests? Three slots, no land, no voting rights?" Leonidas scoffed, draining a goblet of wine in one aggressive gulp. "They really think we're cheap dates, don't they?"

He wiped his mouth, his features twisting into a sneer. "Title without power. Classic corporate trash."

Orion leaned back, lost in thought. The proposal from the Cult of Four was indeed underwhelming.

"They don't need our loyalty," Orion said, his voice calm. "They just need to ensure we don't side with the Sea Race. As long as we stay neutral, we aren't a priority target."

"But once they're done dismantling the Sea Race," Orion added, his eyes narrowing, "the crosshairs move to us."

Orion's analysis of the geopolitical landscape was surgical. Without the Sea Race serving as a buffer, Atlantis would become the prominent target within the Cult of Four's territory.

"Hulk... is the Cult of Four really that terrifying?" Kraken asked, leaning forward. "That Witch... she carried herself like royalty. The way she looked at me—it was like she was observing a primitive savage who hadn't learned to use fire yet."

It was Kraken's first brush with the Cult, and the Witch's arrogance had clearly unsettled him.

"Hah! That's just theater," Leonidas barked, waving a hand to dismiss the siren attendants so they could speak freely. "She's putting on a show. She wants us to believe the Cult is untouchable and that her mere presence is a blessing."

"If we were actually savages, or just standard Arch Lords, an Honorary High Priest position would be a sweet deal," Leonidas admitted, leaning back. "Free access to Faith Energy is nothing to sneeze at. But we aren't standard."

The heavy doors sealed behind the departing servants, leaving the three commanders in silence.

"So, Big Boss," Kraken asked, "what's the play?"

He had dismissed the Witch with vague pleasantries but had given no firm commitment. The destiny of Atlantis now rested with Leonidas and Orion.

"Bro, what are you thinking?" Leonidas didn't answer Kraken directly, instead tossing the question to Orion.

"We join them," Orion said.

His tone was absolute. No hesitation.

"Oh?" Leonidas sat up straighter, and Kraken's eyes widened.

They had witnessed Orion's ascent from a Lord to a Demigod. They knew he didn't gamble unless the dice were loaded. If Orion was dismissing the Sea Race entirely, he had a plan.

"It's simple math," Orion explained, tracing a line on the table with his finger. "Our endgame is total domination of the Silverwood Realm's oceans. We want this entire sea as our backyard."

"That means eventually, both the Sea Race and the Cult of Four are obstacles we have to remove."

"Given the Cult's size and resources, they are the final boss," Orion continued. "The Sea Race is a dying faction. They won't make it to the final circle."

"So, we help the Cult eliminate the Sea Race early. We speed up the timeline. It clears the board and lets us carve out a bigger slice of territory in the chaos."

It was a strategy of acceleration. Bring on the final confrontation sooner rather than later.

"Besides," Orion added with a dark smirk, "the Sea Race is incompetent. Their house is on fire, and they're still arguing over who owns the water bucket. Stingy bastards never win wars."

Leonidas studied Orion's face. This was a shift. Previously, their strategy had been to keep the waters muddy—let the giants fight while they profited from the confusion. Now, Orion wanted to pick a winner.

"Fair enough," Leonidas nodded slowly. "The Cult is too big to bleed out slowly. Dragging this out doesn't help us."

He sensed Orion was pressing for time, likely wanting to wrap up this theater of war quickly. Leonidas didn't know what was driving Orion's urgency, but he trusted his judgment implicitly.

"I agree the Cult is dangerous," Kraken chimed in, looking relieved that the strategy was solidifying. "Just looking at that Witch's avatar gave me a bad feeling. If there are twelve Demigod Pontiffs above her... we need to tread carefully."

At the Legendary level, Kraken had thought becoming an Arch Lord would put him at the top of the food chain. Now that he was an Arch Lord, he realized the only way to be truly safe was to reach Demigod status.

The goalpost for survival just kept moving.

"We'll play it smart, though," Leonidas said, a cunning glint in his eye. "We don't just roll over."

"We stall. We reject them. We make them work for it."

"If we say yes too fast, we look weak. If we drag it out—reject them three times before agreeing—they'll think we've carefully weighed the pros and cons and are joining out of pragmatism, not fear."

Orion nodded in agreement.

"Witch thinks she can snap her fingers and own Atlantis? No chance."

"The best scenario," Orion said, clenching his fist, "is to force one of their Demigods to come here. We trade blows. We fight them to a standstill."

"Only then do we sit down and talk peace."

"That's how we get respect," Orion concluded. "And that's how we get a better price."

"Alright," Leonidas grinned, pouring another round. "Decision made. Here's how we execute..."