Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1409 Tale of Two Princesses

"Ariselle, this is Stoneheart. We are not in Blood Elf territory anymore."

Delphine's tone sliced sharply through the confines of the carriage. "In this place, you stand for the honor of our whole race. You can't just blurt out whatever pops into your head."

A brief pause followed as she adjusted the folds of her robes, her face set in a firm gaze. "Every single word must be considered carefully. That remark you let slip? It might have sparked a major diplomatic mess. Make sure it doesn't repeat."

Youth marked Ariselle, scarcely reaching adulthood, and she remained innocent to the twists of royal intrigue. Blame didn't fully rest on her shoulders. Yet Prince Delphine carried the heavy load of their assignment. Her role demanded she prepare them, steering the pair of young royals amid the treacherous coils of international relations.

"Our first stop will be the Blood Elf embassy," Delphine directed, her voice easing a touch. "You'll clean up and get properly attired. Following that, you'll join me at the citadel to offer respects to His Majesty, Orion."

Her glance held deep intent as she regarded them. "Once that's done, you'll find ample opportunity to explore Stoneheart City."

Protocol was well-known to Delphine. Arrival in Stoneheart required an immediate request for an audience with Orion. If the Demigod chose to meet them was a separate issue, yet the formal approach remained essential.

Lilith, by contrast, would without doubt receive them. This concerned a marital bond linking their nations—a critical issue of national defense. If Ariselle and the Giant Prince could truly connect was yet uncertain, though a clear outcome would emerge, come what may.

"Oh... yes, Auntie. Whatever you say."

Within the carriage, Ariselle along with her sibling Elyndar offered a half-hearted acknowledgment. Their focus had wandered ages ago toward the panes, utterly drawn in by the wild, pulsing energy of the urban throng beyond.

A deep, fatigued sigh escaped Delphine. All she could do was hope her guileless niece possessed a destiny still worth redeeming.

While Delphine's carriage advanced toward the Blood Elf embassy, a separate procession—from Marina City—entered via the grand portals of Stoneheart.

In stark contrast to the tense Blood Elf Prince, Maroth, the Eldest Prince of the Sea Drakes, radiated delight. His cheer proved contagious, lifting the spirits of the young lady at his side, the Twelfth Princess, Lola.

"Brother, we're finally here! Stoneheart!" Lola sang out. "It's every bit as buzzing as I recall."

She wriggled excitedly in her spot. "After we get settled, you must bring me for sweets. This round, I'm craving their largest lollipop! Plus, you need to escort me to the Coliseum for the fights. Oh! And... yes, take me to visit my friend!"

Both served as young royals, each craving the thrill of the metropolis. Yet their plights diverged vastly.

As Ariselle endured a lesson in restraint and propriety, Lola thrust her head from the carriage the instant they cleared the barriers, her covering whipping in the breeze while she eagerly absorbed views of vendors and entertainers lining the paths.

"Yes, yes, of course," Maroth affirmed with eager bobs of his head, yielding to each desire. "Anything you desire, Lola. I'll ensure it occurs."

Such pampering heightened Lola's bliss, her joyful cries echoing like chimes clear to their residence.

Lola's position varied sharply from Ariselle's. Lilith had taken the initiative with the Sea Drakes, proposing the encounter to seal their pact. Bonds already tied Lola and Kronos as companions; their link stood firm. The broad smile on Maroth's features stemmed from the Horde's eager pursuit of their partnership.

Ariselle, conversely, came as an offering from the Blood Elves. If she and Pallas could even endure one another stayed a puzzle.

One arrived as a welcomed visitor, the other as an aspiring suitor. One tie felt secure, the other uncharted. The atmospheres in their transports mirrored those truths exactly.

Regarding the intended partners, Kronos remained en route, hastening toward the metropolis. Pallas, meanwhile, endured at the citadel's practice fields, under Lilith's direct watch.

From the moment Lilith discovered Orion's intentions for Pallas, she had set aside daily hours to direct his battle drills. Right then, Pallas found himself encircled by over ten succubus killers, crying out in agony as they struck from lurking darknesses.

Far overhead in the city's heights, within the palace's quiet, Orion stirred and opened his eyes.

He shifted to spot Elara balanced on his shoulder. Much like her early years, the girl adored scaling up to rest there. A soft laugh rumbled from Orion as he carefully raised her and settled her upon the seat next to his.

"Elara," he murmured with affection. "Do you require anything?"

Cleverness defined Elara; seldom did she approach without reason. Save when prolonged absence sparked simple longing.

"Little brother is so pitiful," she remarked, her wide, pure eyes fluttering. "Mother has been overseeing his training nonstop for three full days."

Pallas was her subject, though her stare fixed unwavering on Orion. The plea in those eyes rang evident: Why does he claim every spotlight? And me?

Orion grasped the silent appeal at once. His broad palm extended to tousle her locks. "Pallas faces his initial real ordeal shortly," he clarified with gravity. "Your mother frets over his well-being, hence her strict oversight. It's vital."

Though taken in by adoption, extended nurturing had woven ties as strong as kin. Orion withheld no secrets from her. Indeed, visions for her future brewed in his mind.

"Elara, you've matured," Orion stated, his voice turning from paternal to commanding. "Will you shoulder my load? Are you set to broaden the Horde's reach?"

Elara's gaze sparkled. She dipped her head with vigor.

"I'm orchestrating a conquest of a foreign realm," Orion pressed on. "We'll shatter every foe in that domain. Do you wish to aid the Horde's triumph?"

"I am!"

This response came not merely as a nod. It rang sharp and resolute.

"With a fresh realm to claim, you'll have to commit fully," Orion cautioned. "Have your elite unit practice rigorously. War isn't playtime. Blood spills. Lives end abruptly."

At that instant, Orion sealed his choice. Elara would spearhead the advance into Eldoria's world. As an Archlord already, her power and wits stood prepared. Positioning her as the top leader of the assault would hone her resolve—and probe her boundaries.

"I vow this to you," Orion appended, dangling the incentive. "A third of every land we seize there will become your own domain. Elara, this forms the base for your queenship. The scale of your realm... that hinges solely on how you fare."

A grin curved Orion's lips. No snare for a rival, but a beacon for his offspring.

A fierce glow ignited in Elara's eyes.

Smack!

"Don't worry, Papa! I won't let you down!"

She delivered a resounding peck to Orion's face, then flickered away via instant translocation spell.

"Anubis! Head to the training grounds! Immediately!"

Orion shook his head, amusement twisting his smile while Elara's commands to her followers resounded through the palace corridors.

Far northward lay Blackstone City.

Buried in the heart of Moonshadow Valley's army camp, Dirtclaw and Gustalon positioned themselves amid the square, poised in anticipation.

"Man," Dirtclaw grumbled, scuffing the ground with his foot. "The Insectoids to the north have turned weak. They crumble before I manage even one full bout."