Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1412 Spider and the Hawk

"The people here are cut from a different cloth," Kronos declared, his tone carrying a rare seriousness for someone so young. "They are harder. Unyielding. Their blood runs hot."

Such understanding stemmed from hard-earned lessons. Kronos's earlier days had been devoted to military service; every clansman he'd stood shoulder-to-shoulder with in battle possessed that identical sharp resilience.

"I don't get it," Princess Lola replied, giving her head a puzzled shake. The subtle point escaped the Sea-Drake princess entirely.

Kronos gave a casual shrug, the gravity fading away as he advanced to guide the way. "Don't worry about it. Follow me. I know where to get the best grub, and I know exactly where to find the best view in the city."

The layout of Blackstone City was familiar territory to him. Blood from old wounds had stained these very streets.

"Yay! Let's go, let's go!"

Not long after Kronos and Lola vanished amid the throng, a fresh band of arrivals appeared on the teleportation platform.

"Hah... so that's what warping feels like?" Bloodear, the Gnoll mercenary, muttered while shaking his head hard, his lengthy ears flapping wildly. "I didn't even puke. The bards lie about the dizziness."

"It's all thanks to the Commander," Stoutgut the Dwarf grumbled, his beard twitching as his eyes widened at the scene around them. "If not for his war record, scum like us wouldn't be allowed within ten feet of a teleportation array."

Tales of Blackstone City had filled Stoutgut's ears throughout his life. Had he seized the opportunity back then, he could have ended up laboring in the Bureau of Weapons with Elder Harbek today.

"It's not just the Commander's record," Brundar the Giant boomed, expanding his broad chest proudly. "It's his contribution to the Horde. They keep ledgers of these things. That's why we get the VIP treatment."

The mercenaries had chosen to journey here right after news of the festival reached them. Crowds always meant opportunities for jobs.

"Bwahaha! Look over there!" Stoutgut jabbed a rough finger at a neighborhood shrouded in dense, dark fumes. "That's the smell of coal and flux! That's where my kin are!"

For any Dwarf, that sharp, biting haze carried a fragrance more delightful than the finest scent. It evoked the warmth of home.

"Let's move," Brundar commanded, stepping up to lead. "I don't know the layout, so I need to ask around. We need intel on the Bagbirds."

As a Giant, Brundar instinctively took on the scout's duty. His plan was to treat his comrades to some fun while collecting vital details.

"This Bagbird mission is key," Godfrey, their Commander, murmured softly. "We're not just filling a contract; we need to stockpile some Bagbird pouches for the company."

He glanced toward his team. "Enjoy the festival for a few days. Rest up. We head into the wilds soon."

Godfrey concealed his interest effectively, yet he shared the group's fascination with Blackstone City. This marked his initial visit. Upon hearing reports of the rare Bagbirds—mystical creatures famed for their dimension-holding pouches—sighted nearby, he'd swiftly covered the steep cost of teleportation without a second thought.

Though vast in scale, Blackstone City represented merely a tiny corner of a far grander domain to certain observers.

"Ah... this is the life," Lorelia breathed out contentedly.

In contrast to the bustling visitors filling the avenues, Lorelia had already retreated to her den.

Perched high atop the sheer cliffs of Moonshadow Valley, the Spider Queen leaned her armored form against the rocky walls. Sunlight warmed her as she lounged, gazing down at the metropolis through drowsy, narrowed eyes.

Her view took in the plumes of smoke curling from rooftops, the ceaseless flow of humanity, the frightened beast-blood steeds darting chaotically along the roads, and the towering outline of the Horde Hall.

This realm had once fallen under her watchful defense. And it would remain under her eternal vigilance.

Thump!

As Lorelia edged toward sleep, a sharp eagle's screech tore through the silence. An enormous, bug-like beast tumbled from above, hurtling straight at her.

Lorelia's eyes flew wide. A spark of avarice gleamed in her cluster of gazes.

With a swift motion, she extended a limb and fired a sturdy strand of silk that caught the descending target in flight, pulling it close with a sticky slurp.

Soon enough, a gigantic Thunderhawk swooped in a spiral and touched down on the fortifications.

"Lorelia! A greeting from Rayden," the bird cawed, fluffing up his plumage. "Do you like the gift?"

Rayden it was. After stepping away from active duty, the Thunderhawk had embraced a regal existence, freely patrolling the Stoneheart heavens with no threats in pursuit. His days involved pestering every female bird across the lands.

Similar to other retired fighters, Rayden lingered at the pinnacle of Chieftain rank, barred from ascending to Legendary status. Yet drive evaded him. Satisfaction came from his unbeatable patron.

Following the Abyssal Dragon Xalathar's departure to the Abyss, Rayden eagerly aligned with Lorelia. As fellow companions of Orion, a connection bound them. Their strengths varied, but their rank stood even.

"Satisfied. Very satisfied," Lorelia chattered her jaws, examining the remains. "But I heard Dirtclaw wiped out the bugs in the north. Where did you find this giant cricket?"

Employing a Thunderhawk as a servant brought Lorelia immense pleasure. From time to time, she even coerced him into aerial outings.

"Caught it way down south!" Rayden boasted. "Heavy bastard, too."

Beyond the Thunderwood Forest, past the Stoneheart frontiers.

Lorelia's brow furrowed as she fixed Rayden with a stern look.

"Rayden, don't cause trouble for the Master," she warned sharply. "His territory is big enough for you to play in. If you get caught outside the borders, don't expect me to come save your feathery hide."

Caution defined Lorelia's essence. She disapproved of Rayden's bold excursions.

"It's fine, it's fine," Rayden trilled, waving his wings carelessly. "Master is a Demigod now. No one on this continent—hell, no one in this world—would dare touch me."

Arrogance poured from him in waves.

"True," Lorelia admitted. "But better safe than dead. You aren't an Archlord. If you get killed, you don't come back."

Her reprimand arose from a twisted form of concern. "Besides, some big shots have arrived in Blackstone City recently. Don't let them outshine you."

Darkness swiftly enveloped the northern lands.

Even as stars dotted the deep blue heavens, the city glowed fiercely under countless lanterns.

Excitement hummed through the masses assembled in the heart plaza. Abruptly, a thunderous bellow rattled the ground. A colossal dragon burst forth from the Horde Hall, wheeling high above the gathering.

Its jaws parted wide, spewing a blaze of dragonfire that set the towering pyres alight beneath.

Whoosh!

Flames surged upward with a mighty roar, bathing the sky in fiery amber and gold, stirring the clansmen's fervor below.

Roar!

Task complete, the dragon veered skyward, looping triumphantly around the square.

Roar!

A responding bellow echoed back. Yet another dragon burst from the Horde Hall, merging into the soaring spectacle.

Down in the jubilant throng, Thundar massaged his limb. The dragon marking inked on his flesh seared hotly, the creature inside quivering with thrill at its brethren's summons.

"You want to join them, old friend?" Thundar smirked. "Go on, then!"

Crimson light erupted from his arm in a blaze. A dragon took shape, howling its defiance to the stars before shooting into the air.

"Hahaha! Why should they have all the fun?"

Dace chuckled hoarsely. He activated the summon mark on his equipment, unleashing his personal dragon steed into the darkened expanse.