Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1380 Chrysalis and Coin

The ancient cocoon, fossilized over countless ages, abruptly stirred in response to the hybrid blood. It started to move. The rigid stone turned pliable like living tissue, and the old enclosure started to fold shut, trapping the boy inside.

A moist, decisive squish echoed as the cocoon fully enclosed itself, burying the boy deep within.

Kar'Sheen's multifaceted eyes shone with wild excitement as he observed the change.

"Rest well, Eryndor," the Insectoid Lord whispered harshly, his tone buzzing with eagerness. "When you awaken, our people's history will be forever altered."

The South, Blood Elf Territory

In the lands where the elves resided, the very air pulsed with life.

The vista unfolding before Tristan Greymount struck him as breathtakingly stunning, almost too vivid to bear. Words like "lush and verdant" fell short of capturing it. Rays of sun pierced the towering treetops, spotting the gentle turf and bathing the blooming flowers in light that turned the world into a masterpiece.

Yet the view faded in comparison when sunlight danced on the locks of the servant girl mounted next to him.

"Young Master, please," Adelina said softly, fidgeting in her seat. "Your gaze is unsettling me. And... and we're surrounded by folks."

Her glance mixed irritation with a hint of fragility.

Tristan had dressed her in adventurer's attire for the trip. The snug hide outfit accentuated her figure, revealing shapes often concealed by simple maid outfits. But it felt constricting. Even more troubling, it attracted stares from every rugged traveler they passed. Adelina sensed herself as vulnerable, akin to fresh bait laid out for all to see.

"Adelina, you need to embrace your allure as if it were a shield," Tristan replied, his tone casual and relaxed. "Let them stare. Eyes can't steal away your worth. Their jealousy only proves how radiant you are."

Adelina let out a breath, yet held her tongue. Her faith in him ran deep.

The Greymount clan flourished now thanks to Tristan's keenly honed sense for staying alive and gaining wealth.

Long before, as a young boy, Tristan had swayed his father to redirect their trade toward the Stoneheart Horde. They ranked among the earliest humans dealing with those beasts, and the pioneers in claiming land within Stoneheart City.

At that time, others branded them insane.

However, once the King of Giants rose to Arch Lord, the Greymounts' standing surged upward. And with Orion's climb to Demigod? They appeared as visionaries.

Holding land in a settlement guarded by a Demigod amid a war between realms offered the finest safeguard. Lately, as turmoil spread over the land, the Greymounts chose daringly to sell off their holdings in the Human Kingdoms and relocate fully to Stoneheart City.

Tristan and Adelina formed the trailing guard, the final group in the relocation.

Through sheer chance—or maybe destiny—the Greymounts engaged the Blood and Fire Mercenary Corps for safeguard. This was the identical group commanded by Godfrey, the warrior now escorting the grand procession of Princess Ava and Prince Kronos.

"Young Master, we must stay vigilant," Adelina said in a low voice, drawing nearer. "I sense it. Those other aristocrats... their motives aren't honest."

More than the desirous glances aimed her way, it was the covetous, scheming stares from fellow human migrants fixed on Tristan. Word had spread that the Greymounts owned titles to top-tier properties in secure Stoneheart City. Amid crumbling times, access to shelter outshone any treasure.

"Don't dwell on it too much, Adelina," Tristan advised, tilting his head with an easy grin.

Did she believe he was unaware?

"Take in the surroundings," he urged, gesturing broadly to the distant skyline. "Countless thousands, all heading to fresh beginnings. Isn't it magnificent? We're advancing together."

His gaze gleamed with effortless assurance that captivated Adelina. For Tristan, catastrophe merely meant a chance in disguise.

"Oh, Young Master," she sighed, her worries dissolving in the glow of his charm.

Trailing them came the steady rhythm of horse steps, signaling the Blood and Fire Mercenary Corps.

"Godfrey," a low, thunderous tone broke in. "A few of these pests are growing daring. Want me to crush them?"

Brundar, the enormous Giant astride a creature-forged steed, scowled at the close lords ogling his charge. No detail slipped by him—not the desire thrown at the servant, nor the greed aimed at the Young Master.

"Ease up," Godfrey responded steadily. "They lack the nerve."

Godfrey understood his companion perfectly. Unleashing Brundar would turn "crushing" into tearing arms from bodies.

"Princess Ava and the Prince head the front line," Godfrey clarified. "With the Raptor Cavalry and Rose Knights securing the ranks, nobody will spark chaos. Ava would never permit it."

Godfrey had joined his fighters to this vast exodus for good cause. This swarm of a hundred thousand humans aimed for the Stoneheart Horde. Shielding them amounted to aiding the Tribe. It showed sharp strategy.

"Plus," Godfrey noted, "we hold the rear for a purpose. We're the backup."

Brundar rumbled in agreement, conceding the sense. His eyes shifted to Tristan, who sat straight and poised before them.

"That boy... he's intriguing," Brundar pondered, a grin playing on his face. "He even dared inquire about the Silent Goblet not long ago. Offhand. As if chatting about the sky."

"Tsk, tsk." The Giant laughed. "Resembles a bookworm, behaves like a rogue. Is this the style of fancy lords in the Human Kingdoms?"

"Next to the heirs from our lands, he's tame," Brundar went on. "Our lads grapple with Abyss Dragons or track Flame-Tigers. Minimum, they're bashing heads in the Colosseum."

"He's no noble," Godfrey murmured in correction.

"No noble?" Brundar stared, puzzled.

He eyed Tristan once more. The lavish attire. The haughtiness. The alluring servant. The dedicated guard detail.

"He appears noble. Lavishes like one," Brundar muttered. "What's the catch?"

"Glance beyond him," Godfrey instructed, pointing to the lead of the line. "Spot that wagon following the Princess? The worn-out one marked by scrapes and dirt?"