Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1388 I intend to be that beginning

"Second point," Elara went on, her tone firm and unwavering. "I won't serve as your underling. Yet, another path exists."

Rhazuun's gaze sparked with interest. The opportunity remained open; it simply required effort to seize.

"You've observed that magic thrives on this land, yet lacks any unified oversight. No school, no society, no uniform guidelines," Elara clarified. "I plan to spark that foundation."

This dream had been sown in her thoughts by Orion years before.

Rhazuun grasped it at once. She refused membership; instead, she aimed to lead from the start.

"Your Highness, in what way does this aid the Order of the Dandelion?" Rhazuun inquired. He wasn't naive. Forming a fresh, standalone Magic Association would breed rivalry, not strength. His look cooled from its prior eagerness, shifting to the sharp assessment of a bargainer. "Suppose I agreed to run this group beneath the 'Order of the Dandelion' emblem?"

Elara's eyes widened briefly, her face feigning purity, though her reply set a cunning snare. "Mage, the era is shifting. The heavens crumble. This offers the Order a path to outglow every rival group."

Rhazuun caught the gleam of genius in her suggestion. He followed the hint, yet craved it committed to writing.

"Explain further, Your Highness."

"Within the Stoneheart Horde lies the Ogre Province," Elara noted, drawing on a governance example he'd recognize. "They pledge to the Horde. They battle for the Horde. Still, inside their territories, they enjoy self-rule. They govern their own domains."

She bent closer. "Does it click for you now?"

Rhazuun inclined his head gradually.

Her vision involved creating an outpost. She sought to form a partly independent arm of the Order in the Titanion Realm. It would bear the name, but she'd control the reins.

"The Order seeks to spread magic's essence through the realms, doesn't it?" Elara questioned, her voice laced with feigned naivety. "If your charter holds true, then my idea fits your principles exactly. Or... were you deceiving me?"

Her grin emerged—charming yet enigmatic, leaving Rhazuun more unnerved by the second. It belonged to one who grasped every advantage.

"Your Highness," Rhazuun replied, releasing a held breath he hadn't noticed. "I lack the power to approve such a vast extension. I need to confer with the High Council."

"No rush," she responded generously.

"Appreciated. We'll come back with a decision promptly—"

"One month," Elara interjected sharply.

"Pardon?"

"Magic bends the fabric of existence to a caster's desire. It's potent, swift, and direct," Elara declared, her stare sharpening a touch. "Don't mock the discipline with red-tape delays. One month."

Right then, Rhazuun perceived it—a real, fierce devotion to mystical pursuits. She transcended a royal heir; she embodied a devoted sorceress.

He parted his lips to protest, then closed them. With gravity, he dipped his head.

"Agreed."

As dusk fell, Elara made her way back to the obsidian fortress. She located Orion upon his seat of power and nestled against him without delay.

"Little one, you've outgrown this habit," Orion murmured deeply, yet he didn't shift to dislodge her. "You're a grown lady these days. Decorum calls for some separation. Folks thrive on rumors of the unfamiliar."

His massive palm settled atop her hair, tousling it playfully. Elara cooed softly, like a feline claiming the coziest nook by a chilly fire, her lids shut in bliss.

"Father, that's mere chatter," she murmured, pressing into his touch. "Narrow thoughts, base envy, and the mutterings of idle crones with no real pursuits. Ignore their prattle."

Orion's lips curved upward, silent. He savored the tranquility. After claiming the full Titan lineage, Elara grew more physically affectionate, her warmth primal and unfiltered.

"Father, I wish to..."

"Approved," Orion broke in softly. "Pursue whatever you require. The Stoneheart Horde boasts ample brawn. We overflow with brutes. What we lack is a sorcerer's clear reason and insight to even the balance."

Elara's eyes fluttered open, startled that he'd cut off her proposal mid-thought. It reflected total faith. Total indulgence.

"You figured it out already?"

"Mmhmm." Orion affirmed with a subtle tilt. "Your mother received the briefing. Concerned for your well-being, she urged me to watch over matters."

He gave her crown a final stroke before reclining. "Share your scheme. I'll point out ways to ease your path."

This went beyond mere allowance. He pledged national assets—troops, funds, territories, and sway in talks. He stood prepared to fund her Magic Association from the ground up.

Elara planted a kiss on his face. "The Association proves essential. Yet, this land's arcane lore resembles barren sands. We require a channel from beyond."

With a heavy breath, her face grew grave. "The Merfolk Kingdoms offered fragments, but their spells center on water. It's overly specialized. It falls short."

Such was the truth of the Utessar Continent. The Human Kingdoms and Blood Elves guarded their mystical lore like treasures in a wyrm's lair. No scraps escaped.

"For true operation, we demand a syllabus from an advanced arcane group," Elara conceded, her annoyance clear. "My teacher's group, the Saint Gran Council, or Rhazuun's Order of the Dandelion... those stand as prime choices. But neither gives freely."

"They'll demand concessions in return," she added, her forehead creasing. "Thus, our Association faces outside influences right away."

There lay the core issue. Elara yearned to reign supreme in her realm. The notion of strings or foreign interference grated on her.

"Father, what's the way forward?"

Orion lifted her gently and placed her on the throne's side. He gestured through the grand entrance, across the bustling chaos of Stoneheart City—a lively tangle of structures and vitality.

"Daughter, allow me to impart a ruling insight," Orion intoned, his timbre profound and echoing. "Leading a mighty realm mirrors preparing a hearty broth. Balance rules all. Dumping in only flesh won't suffice. Nor will plain seasoning."

"Consider the Horde," he pressed on. "Giants form the core, the stew's hearty base. But solely that renders it dull. We require diverse peoples. Their zest, their variety."

"Unity doesn't demand uniformity. It thrives when unique elements meld in one vessel. Thus we forge an army fit for fresh conquests. Thus we seize triumph."

"Should the Order of the Dandelion seek to season our broth, welcome them." Orion's smile flashed, hunter's assurance gleaming. "In the mix, they melt away. They integrate into our feast."