Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1399 It is fate

[Field Report // Target: Leafmaw King]

[Stature: Small (approx. 5 ft)]

[Capabilities: High-level Stealth, Undetectable Aura, Flight]

[Special Defense: Molting Evasion upon critical injury]

Rolan jotted down the last details in the field report, coiled the parchment securely, and attached it to the messenger raven's leg. With a swift flick, he launched the bird soaring toward Stoneheart City.

In contrast to Orion's era, where raw power dominated conquests, Rolan's generation stood apart. Shaped by the Academy, they recognized that war extended beyond mere brute strength; it encompassed supply chains, reconnaissance, integrated strategies, and the power of reading.

Prior to the Youth Camp, Rolan couldn't even read. These days, his knowledge of warfare tactics surpassed that of nearly all the Horde's seasoned fighters. Education had honed him into a precise instrument of battle.

"Rolan, your dragon... it's magnificent," Ava murmured gently.

The fight had concluded. No Leafmaw remains cluttered the space near the carriage, though the air still carried traces of ozone and scorched chitin. Rolan had returned to the group on his mount, matching the royal carriage's speed to update Kronos and ease Ava's worries.

He chatted lightly, minimizing the ferocity of the clash. His goal was to make Ava secure and to teach Kronos a lesson. To Rolan, Kronos and Pallas resembled younger siblings—gifted yet inexperienced. They didn't compare to Elara's mysterious dread or Caelus's legendary status.

"He's still a juvenile," Rolan replied, stroking the Abyssal Demondrake's tough neck. "Once I hit Lord-tier, I'll petition the Mentor for permission to take him into the Abyssal World. A Demondrake needs the Abyss to truly reach its potential."

Rolan wasn't boasting; he was simply laying out the truth. Orion, at Legendary level, had charged into the Abyss. As the Titan(Giant) King's disciple, Rolan aimed to follow that legendary trail.

Kronos grew quiet.

Honestly, without Lilith pulling him into the army amid the Civil War, Kronos would have been lost in life. Even today, he drifted without purpose. Beyond the structured routine of military service, he lacked any clear path.

"You are the Mentor's son," Rolan stated, his words slicing into Kronos's reverie. "Your path is destined for greatness. You're strong enough now to shoulder some of the burden. The Horde needs you."

Rolan gazed at the youth and perceived deeper than mere doubt. In his imagination, he envisioned the ghostly form of six arms spreading out behind Kronos's figure.

The bloodline of the Stoneheart Titan.

Orion had already announced: once the cross-realm teleportation gate activated, any deserving fighter could journey to the Stoneheart Temple and perform the rituals to fully unlock their Titan lineage. For Rolan, the Stoneheart Titan represented the Giant Tribe's future evolution—a heritage crafted by Orion's own hands.

Kronos drew in a breath. "When we get back to the Horde and I get Mother settled, I'm going to request a transfer. I want to join the northern sweep operations."

He yearned to contribute meaningfully. He longed to sacrifice for the Horde.

"That's a noble sentiment," Rolan responded, leaning over to deliver a firm pat on Kronos's shoulder. "But I'm afraid that's not going to happen."

Kronos blinked in surprise. "What?"

"New orders came down from the Horde," Rolan clarified, his gaze shifting momentarily to Ava within the carriage. "The Mentor wants four satellite cities built to guard the cardinal directions around Stoneheart City. One of them is yours."

"Mine?"

"Your fiefdom, Kronos. The Horde will provide the raw materials, but you have to build it. And you're going to use the people following you to do it."

Rolan nodded toward the refugees from Soaring Bird City who trailed the convoy. "If you want them to feel like they belong to the Horde, make them build their own home. Sweat binds a man to the land faster than ink on a treaty."

Though Rolan addressed Kronos directly, the words were meant for Ava too. This was Lilith's method of readying her: We have a plan for your people. They will not be guests; they will be citizens.

"A city..." Kronos whispered, dazed.

"You aren't the only one," Rolan smiled broadly. "Several of the other Princes are getting their own territories. You're my mentor's sons, the Horde's royalty. If a guest comes to visit, they need to know where to find you, right?"

Rolan gave Kronos's shoulder a final firm grip, then sat tall in his saddle. He inclined his head respectfully toward Ava.

"I'm going to scout ahead. If you run into trouble, shout. I'll be there in an instant."

The Abyssal Dragon emitted a deep growl.

WHOOSH!

With a nudge of his heels, Rolan sped forward, vanishing into the lead group.

"He is so like him," Ava breathed, watching the dust cloud fade in Rolan's trail.

Kronos stepped back into the carriage, buzzing with fresh vigor. "Like who, Mother?"

Ava replied. "He has your father's aura."

"It's the confidence," Kronos grinned, thrilled at the idea of his personal city. "The dominance."

"Yes," Ava concurred softly. "Dominance."

Rolan remained courteous, yet underneath simmered a fierce, unbreakable pride. It was a particular brand of arrogance—the sort that trusted in world-conquering might because the calculations confirmed its feasibility. In Rolan, Ava glimpsed the shadow of the young Orion from long ago.

"Well, naturally," Kronos remarked, a touch of longing entering his tone. "He is Daddy's only true disciple."

The thrill dimmed a bit, giving way to a twinge of jealousy.

Kronos understood that Rolan shared a deeper bond with Orion than he did. Rolan had years at Orion's side, soaking up his teachings, seeing the raw effort behind forging the Horde from scratch. Rolan embodied that era's shining star—the unbeaten Myriarch, a Legion Commander before thirty. He ranked as a "Big Boss" in the Horde's structure, while Kronos still sought his place.

Kronos possessed the bloodline, but Rolan had the years.

"It is fate, my son," Ava soothed, sensing his emotions like only a mother could. She extended her arms and drew him close. "We cannot change the past, or the time you lost with him. But you have a new starting line now."

She embraced him firmly, attempting to mend the emptiness of his fatherless youth with her comforting presence.

"Promise me," she urged in a hush. "Promise me that one day, your glory will shine so bright it illuminates the entire Stoneheart Horde."