Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1369 Sowing the Curse and the Winds of Hell

The Curse Seed served as a straightforward biological weapon. It propagated via flesh and blood, while those very elements acted as the catalyst speeding up its expansion.

Through detailing the process, Orion was quietly passing the grim responsibilities to Aina and her devoted Hellscream followers. The task of stacking the corpses would fall squarely on them.

"Mister, this approach... it's utterly ruthless. It's brilliant," Aina remarked, her eyes widening in awe.

Orion brushed aside the praise. He observed the young girl closely, detecting the deep rift in her mind. The pain from her family's loss had divided her into two distinct parts.

One part remained the innocent child confined in the Tower Defense World. The other was the present Aina—a vengeful Fallen Angel determined to burn the world in retribution for her loved ones.

"By the way, Mister," Aina inquired, her thoughts already buzzing with practical details. "Once this seed produces fruit, can I sow the pits? Can I cultivate a second generation? A third?"

She halted briefly, seeking his assurance. "Will the descendants retain the ability to corrupt?"

This posed a crucial tactical query. To swiftly grow [Hellscream], relying on just one tree wouldn't yield sufficient resources. An entire grove was essential for her.

"You can," Orion affirmed. "However, the strength of the bloodline corruption weakens across each successive generation."

He outlined the concept of declining effectiveness. "A milder corruption results in a less firm grip on the host's thoughts. Suppressing their core awareness becomes more challenging."

Such dilution was inevitable. With each split of the [Bloodline Seed], the godly energy and core that Orion had infused also fragmented.

"For your closest allies—the officers you must rely on—limit yourself to fruits from the initial three generations," Orion suggested. "When I manage to manifest physically in your realm, I can reinforce the corruption directly."

He stopped, his voice turning stern. "Stay cautious. Avoid reaching too high and courting disaster."

In the Tower Defense World, they shared a partnership. He had no desire for his most valuable ally to fall victim to betrayal due to carelessness.

"Don't fret, Mister. Aina is extremely cautious!"

Eldoria, The Ruins of Grimm

Once the link was broken, the terrain of Grimm pressed on with its ominous makeover. The relentless, booming clamor of the reshaping tempests gradually wiped away the marks left by the ancient wreckage.

From the ashes, three fresh edifices had emerged: The Windmill Keep, the Slaughterhouse, and the Crow's Cabin.

The Windmill Keep stood as Aina's haven, the storage for the idols, and the shrine for Hellscream's warped devotions.

Past the Keep stretched the Labyrinth. At its winding, disorienting heart, Aina knelt upon the soil. Using a tiny garden spade, she solemnly planted the Curse Seed provided by Orion.

After firming the ground, she seized a nearby pail. It brimmed with a dense, crimson fluid that steamed faintly in the chilly breeze.

She tipped the pail over, saturating the earth with warm blood.

"Mmh... perfect," she murmured softly.

"This is the seed destined to purify the world," she murmured to the soil, her tone quivering with thrill. "The gateway to the coming era. The dawn of our glorious transgressions... The blood feels warm and fresh. It won't burn you, right?"

She let out a light laugh, a melody clashing with the somber setting. "I'm dying to find out!"

Aina leaned forward intently, her gaze fixed on the blood-drenched earth, as the red fluid trickled toward the buried roots.

"Sprout quickly, little Seed. Mommy requires your aid," she sang gently. "Once you're grown, Mommy will give you tasty treats every day!"

Had Orion witnessed this, he would have deemed her deranged. And rightly so. A being who treated a catastrophic bio-weapon like her child teetered far from rationality.

"Now, what should Mommy offer you tomorrow?"

...

Hellscream went beyond mere town reconstruction; they were forging a belief system.

Members of the group had ventured beyond the shielding gale, launching their quest for revenge. They bore not only raw power but the formidable resolve of their collective.

Aina remained indifferent to whether these operatives faced pursuit and death from external groups. Her focus lay on the disturbances they stirred. She sought to gauge if the Hellscream creed could ignite widespread turmoil.

She tested the realm's boundaries, assessing its safeguards while amassing strength within Grimm's confines.

Altering the world demanded grueling effort. Yet progress could come, one crimson stride at a time.

Minor Hell, Ashenheart Domain

Overseeing the hatching of the World Dragons amounted to profound tedium.

Despite his earlier quips, Orion wasn't engaging in games with companions. Nor had Leonidas visited to debate the anatomical oddities of male pregnancy.

Following Arthas's overview of the setup, Orion had merged with the group in the caverns, slipping into profound strategic dormancy to curb his Demigod Phantom's energy drain.

In parallel, Arthas had stationed the Wraith Knight Ashreign at the outer edge of the core area, charged with repelling the swarm of undead battering the Champions Alliance defenses.

The quiet shattered on a morning when the breezes shifted.

The turbulent blasts tormenting the Ashenheart Domain typically surged into the caverns and vanished swiftly. This time, the gust persisted. It wailed piercingly. A harsh, jarring howl that lingered without end.

WHOOOOSH!

The irregularity jolted Orion from his reverie.

As he stirred awake, his allies were already rising, heading to the cavern entrance.

"Hey," Orion hailed Leonidas, who trailed behind.

Leonidas paused and glanced over, his expression somber.

"This isn't the Abyss," Leonidas clarified, keeping his tone hushed. "The Hell World operates as a Void Realm. Invading Demigods here don't breach a planetary shield. It's akin to tossing a rock into a water-filled basin. The sole alert comes from the waves—the intensifying winds."

Orion grasped it at once.

The howling gale signaled invaders. Powerful ones. The fiercer the blast, the mightier—and greater in number—the foes.

He trailed them from the cave, surveying the fiery volcanic skyline.

"The Ashenheart blaze in that volcano ranks as [Eternal-grade]," the Deputy Commander grumbled, eyeing the far-off summit. "For crafting items or advancing cultivation, it's a prize Demigods would slaughter over."

He hawked a glob onto the dirt. "Combine that with the [Lord of Hell] authority—which commands realm principles—and the lure proves irresistible. We're chum in the water. Arthas, we won't sustain this indefinitely."

This wasn't despair; it was cold fact. They defended a treasure trove amid a den of cutthroats.

Though the Champions Alliance boasted elite warriors, what if a horde of predators swarmed? If endless assaults from covetous Demigods poured in?

"Five," Orion declared abruptly, slicing the strain.

Arthas, Leonidas, and Alexander halted. They pivoted toward the Giant King.

"Five?" Leonidas echoed, his forehead creasing.

"Assuming my perception holds true," Orion replied, his gaze sharpening on a far-off anomaly, "five Demigods approach. One at Second Step. Four at First Step."