Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1384 Rite of Sacrifice

Orion's gaze stretched wide as the truth dawned on him. This wasn't merely observing a recollection; he was living it from a particular viewpoint. The scenes unfolding were exactly those Sylvana had witnessed.

That implied during the devastating Giant-King Clash, as Orion battled desperately for survival, Sylvana observed everything. Yet she hadn't focused on the confrontation. Her eyes had turned toward another sight entirely.

Does that mean the curse didn't arise from the battle between me and Balor? Orion pondered, thoughts whirling rapidly.

Orion had long believed Sylvana's loss of vision stemmed from her personal constraints—a rebound from attempting to foresee the result of a duel involving such mighty beings. However, the proof now pointed to something much darker. She had glimpsed something forbidden.

A enigmatic Titan... abrupt, crushing disaster... a realm under total control... unavoidable... Transformation... zero explanations...

Those broken musings resounded in his head. These were the flashes she captured right when her vision vanished. Abruptly, Sylvana's inner voice pierced through, laced with alarm.

What is that?

It appears as though... it's observing me.

Where could it be?

A cold shiver gripped Orion. He served only as an observer in this recollection, borrowing her line of sight. Within the shadowy emptiness ahead, the ghostly shapes of Orion and Balor clashed fiercely, but Sylvana's focus wandered from the action.

I spot it. It's up in the heavens.

Her tone quivered, directing both her own awareness and Orion's.

She attempted to glance upward, to concentrate on the oddity, yet she failed. The instant she pinpointed its location, her words halted. It seemed her mind had been wiped from the scene, abandoning Orion solitary in the emptiness.

Something overhead?

Orion strained to crane his neck. The effort proved brutally tough.

What sort of force is at play here?

Despite his Demigod-tier determination, he sensed an oppressive force holding him fast, like an unseen, smothering weight.

No... I must gaze upon it. I have to uncover what's above!

In contrast to Sylvana, Orion carried the spirit of a ruler. He compelled his sight higher, bit by torturous bit, resisting the mental burden until he stared at a sharp forty-five-degree tilt toward the skies.

There, overshadowing existence itself, hovered a hazy outline.

It towered immense. Its frame eclipsed the whole vault of heaven.

By contrast, the struggle between Orion and Balor—a conflict that rattled the ground—resembled a pair of insects brawling beneath a colossal peak. This presence held a scale akin to a celestial body.

Pushing his sight to its limits, Orion discerned further traits. Trailing the central shape, dark tendrils twisted and stretched. Limbs. Enormous limbs capable of blotting the sun.

Perhaps... eight in total?

Orion strove to delve deeper, to clarify the image, to behold the visage of this stellar terror. Yet the recollection buckled under the burden of reality.

The realm shattered. The heavens crumbled. All faded into oblivion.

Soraya City, Purification Tower.

The swirl of hues dissipated. Orion yanked his palms away, the link severed. Upon the platform, Sylvana drew a sharp breath.

Her profound rest shattered in a flash. Her lashes quivered, unveiling bright, lively irises. She absorbed the strange rocky roof, the gentle glow filling the spire, and at last, the features of the man known to her solely through visions.

"My love!"

"I... I can see?"

Her initial utterance carried incredulity; the next brimmed with sheer, boundless happiness.

"How does regaining your vision feel?" Orion inquired steadily, his tone steadying her. He leaned in and lifted her gently into his embrace.

A spark of glee lit Sylvana's expression, chased swiftly by a rich scarlet blush. In her sightless days, sensation served as her sole means of connection. She had permitted Orion free rein— to claim her fiercely, to arrange her form, to possess her fully—without hesitation. But with sight restored, under his piercing stare, an intense bashfulness overwhelmed her. Their closeness seemed fresher, more intense.

She pressed her cheek against his torso, then eased away a touch, her forehead creasing. "Your eyes..."

She examined Orion intently. His left orb appeared dim, shrouded in a faint veil of ashen mist.

"It's fine," Orion fibbed effortlessly, winking once. The haze cleared, restoring his eye's usual sharp brilliance. "Merely the remnants of the cleansing radiance."

Sylvana eased up, buying the reason.

"You've yet to explore the Valkorath Realm," Orion noted, steering the talk elsewhere. "Allow me to reveal our domain to you."

"Yes. Please do."

Orion's assurance paired seamlessly with Sylvana's devotion. Over the ensuing fortnight, they vanished as a duo, wandering the domain akin to fresh spouses.

Two weeks on, Orion came back to the fortress, Sylvana—now sighted—clinging to his side.

The core group's response—Lilith, Violet, Soraya, and the rest—brimmed with true intrigue. Lilith especially drew Sylvana apart, peering into her eyes like appraising a priceless jewel.

"This is superb," Lilith stated, always practical. "With vision back, you can tackle more duties. I require aid in overseeing supplies."

It rang true. Even sightless, Sylvana proved an effective overseer. Sighted once more, she amplified their strength. Moreover, she challenged no rank; as a Legendary entity, she recognized her position beneath the Queens.

Her comeback infused the fortress with joyful vibes. Orion, though, skipped the merriment. Right after arriving, he withdrew to his secluded chamber and sank into profound repose.

In truth, his awareness plunged into his Abyssal World.

Orion summoned his authentic Titan physique. He loomed in the gloom, vast and daunting, slipping into extended, pensive quiet.

Should Sylvana witness this, she would grasp that the tower vision held no illusion. One of Orion's eyes truly lacked sight.

Still, Orion's makeup set him apart. He had relocated the malady. The hex that stole Sylvana's vision now lodged in the orb of a lesser head from his Stoneheart Titan shape. That particular head clamped its eye sealed, containing the hex.

Who might that titan have been?

Was it me? Another? Or... my father?

Father. The term struck Orion as archaic, remote and faded. Still, pondering his roots brought an odd calm surging through him.

His thoughts replayed the sky-spanning form. Blurry, yet the numerous limbs stood clear. It evoked his own Stoneheart Titan build. A daring idea took shape: If not kin, might it preview his evolved form? A echo of his peak might flung across eras?

He needed to weigh it. For in aiding Sylvana, Orion hadn't merely shown kindness. He had obtained a boon.

The eye wasn't simply "sightless." It formed a confinement.

Orion had leveraged his godly build to isolate the Fate Curse shifted from Sylvana. Within that locked eye, bound inside the hex, lay a vital asset—a surge of might to preserve him in dire straits.

Moreover, containing the hex had revealed fresh insights into cosmic workings. He had gained a novel skill.

[Divine Art: Rite of Sacrifice]

This pinnacle method treated lives as base stock. It enabled forging a vital essence and frame into a specialized armament.

Orion saw that the pale Bone-Forged Sword born from Grommash marked a rough, unintended forerunner of this exact method. The elements aligned, and the consequences chilled.