Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1393 The Titan's Ultimatum

"Are you certain?"

The Demigod who spoke first continued to harbor doubts, his gaze sharpening as he closely examined Orion's spectral form.

"You want the Spring of Life?" A harsh, mocking chuckle escaped Orion's lips, laced with self-mockery. "Too late. I already drank it."

His voice carried waves of regret, sorrow, and a flicker of building fury. The Spring of Life's whereabouts ranked among the realm's most fiercely protected mysteries. Orion's effortless mention of it added a chilling layer of truth to his tale.

Yet mere talk held no value in this standoff.

Quick, knowing looks passed between the three Demigods. Tension thickened the atmosphere. They refused to yield; instead, they geared up for an assault. Divine power surged through them, aimed at smashing Orion's image and dispersing his awareness.

"The Stoneheart Titan yields to no one."

Orion released another deep sigh, burdened by exhaustion.

With that, he advanced a single step.

A rift appeared to split open behind him. A ghostly realm emerged—a savage, ancient vista filled with sharp mountains, churning molten pools, and vast grasslands. In this spectral domain, hordes of Stoneheart Titans bellowed together, while legions of nightmarish beings gathered for battle.

"Do you wish to fall into the Abyss?"

A fearsome force of attraction burst from Orion's illusory realm, targeting the three Demigods. This went beyond mere physical weight; it assailed their spirits. It tugged at their essences, on the verge of drawing them into his territory.

Such was the might of a Fourth-Stage Demigod—the Archon of the Abyss.

Yet as Orion's presence flared, a disturbance rippled far below the Chaos Continent. An old, otherworldly force started to stir, reacting to his aura.

Orion's brow furrowed. He detected it right away—a sleeping terror embedded in the continent's core, a built-in safeguard for the landmass.

Clashing with three Demigods alongside a world-scale protector spells disaster, he thought.

He banished the Abyssal World. The pulling force faded away. The strange thrum under the ground eased and sank back into dormancy.

Orion eyed the rattled group. Clarity struck him then about why Tusha the Reaper couldn't claim this territory. These three commanded a third of the Emerald Dream Realm for good cause; they guarded an apocalyptic arsenal.

"I hail from the Dusk Continent," Orion declared, altering his approach. "Do you truly wish to start a war with us?"

He invoked the Champions Alliance. A bold deception, yet one packed with weight.

The three Demigods' expressions drained of color.

Should the Dusk Continent launch an assault, the Chaos Continent would crumble. The memory of that devastating raid lingered. The Alliance Commander had severed Mondusath, the mighty Dragon King of Light, in one earth-rending strike. That slaying stood as a dire caution to all gods across the planes.

And now Orion appeared—a fresh, enigmatic Demigod—revealing the Alliance's hidden strengths as even more daunting than imagined.

Noting their alarm, Orion eased his delivery.

"He is my son," Orion explained, pointing toward the limp Kaelen. "Born after you sealed this continent."

A straightforward reason for his meddling. A parent reclaiming his offspring.

"Per our previous treaties," Orion pressed on, "I will take him and the Dark Butterfly Clan. You keep the land."

Relief washed over the three Demigods' features.

This verified two key points: Orion truly belonged to the Alliance, and his goal wasn't domination. History backed it; the Silver-Eyed Kingdom had faced a parallel extraction long before.

"Half a day from now," the trio's leader at last replied. "We will open a passage at Phoenix Butterfly Ridge. It will remain stable for fifteen minutes."

"Acceptable?"

They had little say. War would draw the Dawn Continent's wicked powers to Orion's side, eager for chaos. Merfolk would surge from the seas. Invaders from beyond would swarm like pests. The Emerald Dream Realm's fragile equilibrium would break apart.

Harmony offered the sole path. And Orion wielded enough strength to enforce it.

"Acceptable," Orion agreed with a nod. "Very well."

Earlier. Gossamer Reach.

The heavens had wailed for hours on end.

Sophia perched atop the walls, gazing at the far-off clash ripping the skies asunder. When the crimson Titan shade ascended, eclipsing the light, her pulse raced wildly.

Four heads. Eight arms. It mirrored Kaelen perfectly.

She had yearned and beseeched that Kaelen's enigmatic sire had stepped in.

But then Kaelen plummeted from sight.

Her knees buckled. She slumped against the chill rampart stones, her stare lost on the skyline where her boy had disappeared. Silent tears carved paths down her cheeks.

Child... return... she murmured inwardly, her words breaking. We don't need the territory. We don't need to fight.

Just return to the Ridge. Just come home unharmed.

Kaelen... Kaelen...

Despair weighed her down like a mountain. She'd always seen herself as resilient, had believed she'd forged a fighter. Yet the dread of his loss stripped her defenses, leaving her trembling in fear.

"Please... save him," she wept, shutting her eyes tight. "He is your son too! I know you can hear me! I know you are strong enough!"

Her plea went to the sole deity she recognized—the one who'd bestowed this child upon her.

"You're not quite as commanding as you were when you demanded my seed all those years ago."

A voice rang out right before her.

Sophia went rigid. She dismissed it as delusion, a cruel twist from her anguished thoughts. Eyes clamped shut, she persisted in her quiet begging.

Moments of quiet dragged by.

"I brought Kaelen back," the voice repeated, nearer now. Steady, tinged with light humor. "Why are you still praying?"

Sophia's eyes flew wide.

There on the wall stood a spectral figure. Divine haze obscured his traits, but recognition hit her. The energy, the timbre, the overwhelming vibe—it was him. The figure from her visions. The one who'd gifted her rapturous nights and enduring repercussions.

"Where is our son?"

Sophia stifled a cry, tears flowing unchecked. Her immediate urge wasn't rage or inquiries. It was raw, parental longing.