Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1381 Nobility's Price and the Blind Seer

"That fellow inside the carriage goes by Roderic, the firstborn of Grand Duke Richard," Godfrey murmured, his tone rough and hushed. "He, along with Prince Theodore... only guys like them truly earn the label of 'Noble' in this realm."

In Godfrey's eyes, genuine nobility had zero to do with fancy silks or elite gatherings. The real nobles were those who could sweep the borders clean, safeguard the territory, and impose stability. They were the sort whose principles turned into the very measure of honor.

Throughout the whole Human Kingdom, just a select few matched Godfrey's tough standards—beyond the Royal Family itself—like certain Grand Dukes and their loyal retainers, tied by blood and belief. These rare individuals gripped the kingdom's destiny in their grasp.

"Prior to reaching Soaring Bird City, Marquess Roderic faced a rough journey," Godfrey went on, easing back into his saddle. "The Swarm struck them several times. And the Marquess himself? He didn't cower. He spearheaded the assault and slashed a gory trail straight through the horde."

"The Kingdom's true nobles aren't merely powerful, Brundar. They're clever too."

Godfrey halted, an idea hitting him, and a wry grin crept across his mouth. "You won't credit what he pulled off the instant he arrived in Soaring Bird City. He headed right for the City Lord."

"Seems ordinary, doesn't it?" Godfrey queried, eyeing the hulking figure next to him. "Since the City Lord is Princess Ava, who holds higher rank than him."

Brundar nodded without thinking. It clicked in his straightforward head.

"Now comes the unusual twist," Godfrey added, lowering his voice to a secretive hush. "The Marquess surrendered a huge sum of wealth and a full caravan loaded with precious supplies to Princess Ava on the spot. He handed over all his possessions, solely for her vow to shield his carriage under her wing all the way to Stoneheart."

Godfrey's face grew somber, a stark contrast to Brundar's stunned expression. While the giant puzzled over the riches, Godfrey brooded over the deeper meaning.

What sort of disaster would push a mighty Marquess to sell off his holdings and plead for Princess Ava's safeguarding?

Godfrey couldn't puzzle it out. If the Swarm was the issue, it fell short. They'd journeyed the identical path and witnessed the remnants—innumerable bug remains mashed under the cavalry's hooves. It had been a massacre, but nothing out of the ordinary. The danger didn't line up with Roderic's frantic plea.

"You're pondering why he skipped hiring us for his guard duty, huh?" Godfrey inquired.

Brundar nodded once more. His thoughts lay bare.

Godfrey skipped delving into the tangled web of politics for the giant. "That's how nobility operates," he stated plainly. "They engage in a contest we can't even glimpse the field of. The Greymount successor has the funds, no doubt, but he misses the genuine clout to claim a seat there."

In the end, the Greymounts were mere traders who'd struck it rich on the boom from the Stoneheart Horde. They wanted the bite that real command delivered.

Godfrey chose to let it go. Chatting too freely about Princess Ava and Marquess Roderic invited death. Irking the royals meant the Mercenary Corps would struggle to snag another contract.

"Godfrey, I'm still lost on this!" Brundar grumbled, rubbing his scalp.

Godfrey let out a breath. Giants excelled at hauling burdens, but pondering deep matters? Not their forte.

"Leave it be. We don't have to puzzle it out. We simply trail Princess Ava and the Prince, staying primed to battle for the Tribe."

That landed clear for Brundar. He thumped his broad chest, the thud resounding like a war drum.

"No sweat, Godfrey! Should foes show up, I'll tear 'em to shreds!"

Stoneheart City.

The chamber brimmed with oddities, packed with uncommon relics and scrying devices that filled the space with a whiff of old dust and electric tang. This realm belonged to Sylvana. Normally a haven for serene reflection, it now hosted a far more instinctive display.

Orion's broad palm gripped Sylvana's hip, turning her around with casual might. He held back not a second. His stout, weighty shaft pushed beyond her barriers, slamming into her snug, slick core with a fierce plunge.

"Ah—!"

Sylvana let out a brief, muffled yelp, clamping her lip to hush it. As a sightless oracle, her realm of shadow amplified each feeling a thousandfold. She sensed the solid bulk of him piercing her form—rigid, relentless, akin to a searing rod prying her apart.

Orion started his motions, the tempo brutal.

Every plunge landed firm and profound, the smack of skin on skin reverberating through the still space. Thud, thud, thud. It rang mechanical, primal, and ruinous. Sylvana stretched backward, her digits brushing the thick base of him embedded within. It seemed bigger than her mind had pictured. Sight eluded her, yet the pull on her flesh and the touch her fingers traced revealed plenty.

Her shy disposition shamed her into hiding her delight vocally, so she pressed her face into her limbs, allowing just faint, choked gasps to slip free. Perspiration coated their frames, serving as slick aid that heightened the rub even further. Her fox tail whipped wildly in the breeze, its end coiling and jerking in sync with Orion's unyielding pump.

Orion's grip shifted from her side to secure her spine, forcing her downward, claiming her fully.

Sylvana sensed herself stuffed to bursting, torn wide, and totally subdued. Her inner walls gripped in a wild surge of thrill, squeezing him, which prompted fiercer, more intense strokes.

The rhythm sped up. The damp, steady claps turned wild. Sylvana's feet clenched, clawing the plush covers. Her frame stiffened amid the flood of bliss, her thoughts erasing into nothingness—paler and barer than her lack of sight.

Much later, quiet settled back over the chamber.

Sylvana sprawled across Orion's torso like a dozing vixen. Orion gazed at her—her allure seemed otherworldly, nearly divine. He lazily caressed her flowing, smooth locks.

"Won't you inquire why I sought you out?" Orion questioned, his words vibrating in his torso. "I didn't show up solely to bed you."

These marked his initial words post-climax. His entrance had stayed mute, abrupt, and overpowering. Sylvana couldn't fend it off, nor did she wish to. Amid the hush, they'd merely devoured one another.

"You always carry your motives," Sylvana breathed, her tone gaining firmness at last.

"I wish for you to carry my heir."

Orion fixed his gaze on her stunning, unseeing eyes, a playful itch to jest rising within.

"I can't."

The reply emerged after moments of thick quiet. Orion caught the quiver in her words; the inner storm hung heavy.

"The divide in our power and lineages runs too deep," she said softly. "No possibility exists for me to bear your young successfully. Even employing some outlawed mystic method, it'd torment me and burden the child's path ahead."

She embodied the seer indeed. Her reply rang practical, profound, and reasoned. It caught Orion off guard. The Stoneheart Horde sat at its power's peak just now. Should she birth Orion's offspring, her standing would soar, matching Violet's own. Still, she turned down the might for reason's sake.

"Your logic borders on heartbreaking," Orion observed.

He conceded her pull proved hard to shake. She held the Fox Tribe's allure, a human aristocrat's grace, and the Beastfolk's fierce fire. She was the kind of female to ensnare a man's soul.

Orion trailed his palm along her spine, his touch wandering down to prod her privately. Sylvana nipped her lip, bearing the feeling mutely.

A rush of softness hit Orion.

"I arrived to grant you sight."

Sylvana had started to shift once more, extending to hold him, but his declaration halted her cold. The rare Kitsune turned rigid as stone.

"Hadn't you foreseen it?" Orion breathed against her ear. "I've risen. I'm a Demigod these days."

She hadn't foreseen. Yet she'd awaited this moment—yearned for it—for ages upon ages.

"If you stay silent, I'll count it as a no," Orion warned, pretending to rise. "I'm off."

The gesture jolted Sylvana from her daze.

"No!"

The cry burst on pure reflex. She pounced, her arms seizing him, frantic to hold him close, frantic for the wonder he'd dangled before her.