Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1419 Gate of Taboo

Yet the concluding inscription carved on the stone gravestone brought an abrupt hush to their voices.

Choosing this path meant gulping down a sour harvest, its flavor still beyond their full grasp.

"The Cult of Four and Atlantis are already pounding at our barriers. Without unlocking this entrance, death awaits us regardless," Amon snarled.

Like the rest, Amon belonged to the Cetus Giant lineage, but he stood shorter in build, though his rage and combat skills rivaled anyone's. He embodied blaze and wrath, the total opposite of yielding.

"If we yield now, there's still a chance," Ishraena replied gently.

She stood as the only woman among their Demigods, but her form towered over the others physically. Strangely, her thoughts were the gentlest. To Amon, though, Ishraena lacked backbone—she carried the flag for the faint-hearted.

"Yield? What sets that apart from bondage?" Amon barked, his tone escalating. "Ishraena, do you want to witness all sea-kin forced by you and the Cult's grip to spill blood and perish for unfamiliar gods and gains we'll never touch?"

Her mention of giving in right at their forebears' threshold ignited his fury.

"Amon, you're a Demigod. Make an effort to think clearly for once," Ishraena fired back, her words cutting. "Yielding isn't the same as chains. Options exist—talks, partnerships, exchanges. A truce to safeguard our people's lives... doesn't that outweigh your ego?"

She countered his disdain with icy reasoning. From her view, Amon's stubbornness had clouded his judgment. Bringing her heirloom key-fragment this far into the vaults already showed her deepest devotion. Proposing surrender was just her role as a sensible guide offering a way to avoid doom.

"Ha! A truce?" Amon chuckled, the sound rough and scraping. "You talk of harmony? Tell me—who will honor the fallen from our kin over these years? Should I just forget it? You can't demand that. No one here can!"

Amon's resolve stood unyielding as steel. He would unseal the portal. He would drive the invaders from the depths.

"Enough!"

Before Ishraena could respond, Morveth's command thundered, slicing the argument short.

"Ishraena's presence here shows she's reached the same conclusion as us," the High Chief announced steadily. "Your arguments don't tie us; they merely harm."

As the ruling head of the Cetus Giants, Morveth held unchallenged power. Amon and Ishraena's rise to Demigod rank came from the assets he gathered across their kind. With their strength, they could have escaped to any ocean hideout, yet the burden of their race's offerings anchored them in place.

"The present crisis might not spell complete wipeout immediately, but the gap is slim," Morveth went on, his gaze tired yet firm. "To avoid throwing away the spirit and determination of the Cetus Giants, we fight until the finish. And battling to the finish makes it a fight for survival. What's the real divide between dying in combat and facing annihilation?"

There was none.

Ultimately, it boiled down to slay or perish.

"Ancestors, Morveth follows your wisdom," the High Chief proclaimed. He drew up his enormous body and inclined deeply toward the gravestone.

Ishraena and Amon shared a look, their hostility melting into gravity. They inclined together.

At that instant, their three determinations fused into one indestructible strand.

Soon after, Morveth in front with his two deputies at his sides, they neared the prohibited entrance. Clutching their heirloom relics, igniting their blood heritage, they collectively shoved wide the forbidden barrier.

Outside Azurehold, The Battlefield.

The conflict blazed fiercely, overturning the forecasts of the Atlantean watchers.

Cetus Giants were wild creatures, indeed, but hardly without cunning. Their strategic setups and seamless teamwork displayed a people blending brute force with sharp wits.

They wielded water dynamics to unleash devastating blasts. Spread over the chaos, Orion even caught sight of huge creatures calling up targeted tempests and electric bolts beneath the waves.

"Brother, such an advanced people can't ignore the larger strategic landscape," Orion remarked, his stare sharpening. "It's odd they haven't sought a pact with us."

Observing the Giants in action, Orion saw their smarts weren't debatable. So why ignore Atlantis's support? Even without a full pact, just sidelining Atlantis—holding them neutral—would have been brilliant.

"They never reached out," Leonidas grunted, detecting the oddity too. "Either they disdain us, or they view us and the Cult of Four as the same flock—foes to eliminate without distinction."

"Something unseen lurks in this," Orion whispered. "The truth remains buried for now."

A abrupt, unfounded shiver crept along his back. It felt like impending danger—a forecast of ruin. For a Demigod, this sensation was no illusion; it signaled a cosmic alert.

"Instruct Kraken to stay alert," Orion commanded briskly. "At the first hint of trouble, he retreats at once."

"Handled. I've signaled Squiddy already," Leonidas affirmed, his focus fixed on the fray, hunting the root of their disquiet.

The Cult of Four Command Post.

Far above the melee, on the spine of a gigantic, plated leviathan, the three Pontiffs—Valerius, Konak, and Jack—overlooked the slaughter.

"The three elder horrors of the Cetus Giants stay concealed," Pontiff Valerius observed, gripping his staff. As the mastermind behind this assault, his attention zeroed in on the foes' top fighters. Their vanishing act disturbed him.

"We've encountered this before in earlier campaigns," Pontiff Konak stated, his tone even, aiming to ease the growing strain. "Usually, the opposition just bides time, readying one last desperate move."

It rang as a commonplace, yet it fit the need. The Cult of Four dreaded no surprise ploy.

"I could dispatch a projection to hit Azurehold's central zone," Pontiff Jack offered. Dubbed 'The Clown,' his garish features masked a sly intellect. Stepping forward with his aid drew nods of approval from Valerius and Konak.

"We appreciate it, Pontiff Jack," Valerius consented.

Jack lifted a palm, sacred glow dancing on his digits.

In a flash, a doll materialized in their midst. It brimmed with chemical detonators.

Jack infused a fragment of his intent into the figure. The knives on its frame whirled madly, carving the currents as it sped toward the battle's core.

Its aim lay at Azurehold's nucleus.

From afar, Orion and Leonidas tracked the luminous dash ripping the water, their focus seized right away.