Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1414 Two Devils and a Saint

In the vicinity of Azurehold, within the Silverwood Realm.

As the Cetus Giants and the local sea creatures battled fiercely against the advancing forces of the Cult of Four, the Atlantis faction's commanders—Orion, Leonidas, and Kraken—stayed back, watching the turmoil unfold.

This was when the Witch made another appearance before them.

"Marshals," the Witch started, her voice carrying a barely concealed warning, "if Atlantis's troops keep standing still, you'll earn no goodwill from Pontiff Valerius."

She stopped for a moment, allowing the warning to linger. "It would be regrettable if this lack of action... hindered the First Marshal's rise to Pontiff status."

The Witch was in a foul temper. Full-scale war had erupted, but these Atlanteans hadn't stirred at all. Their quiet demeanor was disturbing. The Cult of Four didn't require miracles from Orion or Leonidas, nor a particular number of kills. What mattered was their position. They wanted Atlantis to send soldiers into the fray against the sea folk, confirming their alliance without question.

Talk was worthless. The Cult insisted on bloodshed to seal the deal.

"Hah!" Leonidas tossed his head upward, his laugh echoing loudly and untamed. "Do you fear we'll stab the Cult in the back when you're not watching?"

Abruptly, the laughter stopped. Leonidas's face turned from jovial to menacing. The atmosphere grew heavy as he released the overwhelming force of his essence—the Demigod aura—targeting the Witch with the intensity of a predator ready to strike.

"You believe you can intimidate us?"

Next to him, Orion unleashed his own dominating energy. The merged might of two Demigods pressed down on the Witch, intensifying the burden until the air seemed as heavy as iron.

The surroundings grew still.

The Witch, already tense, started to shake. Beneath the stares of two entities who could shatter the fabric of existence, breathing became a struggle, speaking even more so.

"I think," a milder voice interrupted the strain, "this is merely a mix-up."

Kraken advanced, his manner calm and casual, shattering the oppressive quiet.

Curse them, the Witch fumed inwardly. The typical ploy—two fiends and one angel.

She recognized their tactic perfectly. The Atlantis trio was staging a performance, playing her for an idiot. Yet, aware of it, she forced down her resentment. It was stifling.

"Third Marshal," she wheezed, regaining her poise as the force eased. "I agree... you're correct. It's a misunderstanding."

She adjusted her garments, her adaptive nature taking over. She was cunning, tough. "Amid the ongoing conflict, my remarks might have been overly harsh. I seek your forgiveness."

"Heh. If it's just a mix-up, then everything's fine," Kraken replied with a courteous incline of his head.

Orion and Leonidas pulled back their hostile aura, reverting to stoic figures. The Witch let out a held breath. She looked at each of the three leaders, bracing herself to continue.

"My regrets. The demands from the Pontiff weigh heavily; I shouldn't have shifted that onto you," she stated, delivering a rehearsed expression of remorse before reaching the core issue. "Pontiff Valerius instructed me to inquire: When will the Marshals offer their aid to the Cult of Four? Should you plan not to engage, we need to notify the three Pontiffs for proper arrangements."

The opening line showed submission; the follow-up was a clear demand.

Orion and Leonidas stayed mute, their eyes shut, pretending boredom.

"Divine Envoy," Kraken grinned, his face radiating genuineness. "Have you heard this proverb? To make the horse run, feed it first."

If the Cult expected them to fight, payment came upfront. The three siblings had settled on this ages ago: without gain, no involvement. Even a symbolic move demanded the Cult of Four unlock their vaults.

The analogy was direct. The Witch grasped it right away.

"Third Marshal," she responded, pulling out a dimensional orb and presenting it with open palms. "These are battle resources provided by Pontiff Valerius for the Atlantis auxiliary forces. Kindly don't view it as insufficient."

She stressed the phrase too little.

The Cult of Four arrived ready. They would meet whatever Orion and his allies requested, as long as it was reasonable. Facing a formidable foe ahead, they couldn't tolerate uncertainty behind. Sacrificing some of their resources was an essential safeguard.

The Witch's prior warnings were just routine—her go-to negotiation style. But facing types like Orion and Leonidas, who had schemed against her initially, her typical seductions and scares fell flat. In typical dealings, she might skim some of these items for personal gain. Not this time.

Kraken accepted the orb, scanned it with his mind, and gave an approving nod.

"Pontiff Valerius shows remarkable generosity," Kraken declared. "I'll take command of the front lines to support you."

He inclined his head toward the Witch, then shared looks with Leonidas and Orion.

Kraken entering the battle achieved dual goals: it fulfilled the Cult's need for a visible commitment, and it let him collect direct insights from the front. This was vital to their strategy. Lacking knowledge of the actual combat situation, they could get lost in the confusion and commit a deadly mistake.

"Depart," Leonidas growled, his tone profound and conclusive. "We'll keep an eye on things."

Titanion Realm, Blackstone City.

The magnificent Bonfire Festival had passed swiftly, leaving Blackstone City's new visitors craving additional experiences. The special foods and lively traditions stayed etched in their thoughts well after the flames faded.

On day two, as the Horde Hall settled into calm, the Demigod Seraphina entered Blackstone City.

"This serves as the birthplace of the Stoneheart Horde," she declared, her speech holding a majestic tone. "I presume you have a spot for me here?"

She ignored Orion. Her eyes locked onto Lilith, positioned beside him.

Around company, Seraphina embodied the haughty Demigod fully, revealing none of the softness or reliance she saved for intimate times with Orion. Speaking to Lilith straightforwardly—inquiring instead of ordering—marked a notable sign of courtesy from someone of her rank.

At least on the surface, she regarded Lilith as a peer.

"Naturally," Lilith answered with an elegant grin. "Marina's quarters are kept ready and cleaned each day."

Lilith was perceptive. By invoking "Marina"—Seraphina's hidden identity—she softened the divide. It was a clever method to warm the connection.

The difference between them was undeniable. For Lilith, still short of Archlord status, Seraphina operated on another level of being. Even with Seraphina open to light conversation, Lilith couldn't overlook the immense presence of the Demigod title. Acting as if it didn't exist would only heighten the unease.