Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1435 Father's Pride

Dirtclaw stood up from his chair.

Even now, his massive build overshadowed his sons, throwing a lengthy shadow across their forms. He moved around Anubis and Wepwawet in a deliberate circle, stalking like a hunter pondering its attack, or maybe... wavering.

"Gustalon, what's your view on these pair of cubs?"

Though Dirtclaw kept his gaze away from his visitor, the inquiry aimed straight at the elemental positioned close by. "Could they possibly ascend to the Legendary rank by themselves?"

Indecision gripped Dirtclaw tightly, leading him to seek advice from Gustalon, the one he'd pulled along for some ale.

Achieving the Lord rank independently involved forming a Lord's Stone without any outside help.

By all reason, Anubis and Wepwawet came into the world after Dirtclaw transformed into a Hell-Drake Hound. Their hidden talents surpassed those of nearly all cubs within the Stoneheart Horde. Dirtclaw held great expectations for the pair.

While he had opted to forsake the Hell-Drake route in favor of the Titan bloodline, he held no right to impose that on his offspring. He wasn't in their position. Their boundaries remained unknown to him, and he dreaded choosing something that might limit their growth.

"I'm not sure," Gustalon replied, his shape flickering a bit like wind trapped inside a flask. "However, it would probably prove extremely tough."

He offered no clear yes or no on the matter.

As an elemental being, Gustalon hadn't formed a Lord's Stone in the usual way, making the challenge feel rather vague to him. Besides, Dirtclaw failed to grasp that entities such as Gustalon and Lumi stood apart as exceptions. It didn't matter if they "formed" a stone; they embodied it themselves. For elementals, advancement linked to knowledge and encounters, rather than innate ability.

"I think," Gustalon went on, "that letting them pursue their desires is the optimal path."

Dirtclaw's gaze brightened suddenly.

He whirled to confront his sons, his face hardening into severity.

"Anubis. Wepwawet. Speak up. What do you decide?"

No longer mere younglings, they stood as grown warriors. Their thoughts were their own, even if they'd stayed quiet to honor their father's deep contemplation.

"Father, no decision needs making," Anubis declared.

His response surprised Dirtclaw and Gustalon alike.

"The Princess holds immense power, doesn't she?" Anubis pressed on, his tone firm. "I'd wager she outmatches you and Gustalon combined."

Silence enveloped Dirtclaw and Gustalon.

Elara ranked as an Archlord. Outsiders to the core group might remain unaware, but Dirtclaw knew full well.

"If the Princess herself yearns to claim His Majesty's bloodline, how could we dare pick another way?" Anubis questioned. "Father, we aim to tread in His Majesty's path. For that, staying behind the clan won't do."

He drew himself upright. "Anubis leads his peers. He does so today, and he will tomorrow."

Anubis served as Elara's attendant—a role Dirtclaw himself had arranged. Throughout his youth, Anubis trailed Elara more than he lingered at home. As a result, Elara shared most secrets with him openly.

Anubis witnessed her in battle. He observed her shift into the four-headed, eight-armed Titan shape and pummel Pallas until the Prince begged for relief. He endured the overwhelming force of her Archlord presence.

Wepwawet, serving as Pallas's attendant, had beheld the same—often sprawled on the ground, pressed down by the force, while Anubis, protected by his loyalty, stayed on his feet.

After beholding the Stoneheart Titan's genuine might, the notion of a "choice" seemed ridiculous to them. Only their father wavered.

On top of that, Anubis caught a subtle nod from Elara: he'd participate in the assault on the foreign realm. The triumphs he'd longed for lay close at hand. Recently, he'd pushed his training with wild enthusiasm.

Dirtclaw fixed his stare on them.

He regarded the duo he cherished most among his sons, and briefly, they appeared both known and oddly distant.

"If that's how it stands... then leave my presence!"

The phrase struggled out after a prolonged delay, pushing beyond the blockage in his voice.

Anubis and Wepwawet inclined their heads to their father and Gustalon, then departed the grand chamber.

Dirtclaw slumped into his seat once more. He seized a jug of brew and emptied it in a single mighty gulp. After cleaning his lips, he uttered a line that left Gustalon completely puzzled.

"Brother Gustalon, have you seen... we appear to have aged."

"The youngsters... their minds race beyond ours."

"Heh..."

Even as Dirtclaw twisted his lips into a forced wry grin, Gustalon detected the hint of boastfulness woven into the chuckle.

"Your life force burns brighter than before. I detect no trace of decline," Gustalon stated plainly. "Regarding the youngsters forming their views, is that truly odd?"

Gustalon lacked offspring or a companion. He picked up the feeling in Dirtclaw's tone, yet failed to grasp the precise mix of sorrow and joy from seeing one's young outpace their parent.

Not his physical form had grown old; his outlook had. Or put differently, the sharp divide between his careful insight and their bold drive left him sensing like an outdated artifact.

"No, nothing odd. Nothing odd whatsoever!"

"In truth... it's fine."

Dirtclaw reclined, his eyes wandering out the wide entrance toward the yard outside. His lips started to lift at the edges, more and more, until a broad, pure smirk of satisfaction spread across his face.

Long before, he'd dispatched Anubis and Wepwawet to attend the royal heirs, seeking merely to provide them supplies and a safeguard in politics. He'd figured closeness to authority would aid them.

He never anticipated they'd acquire something of greater worth.

Insight.

Above everything, that's what Dirtclaw prized most. Maybe from their worldly encounters, but Anubis and Wepwawet owned a foresight that dwarfed Dirtclaw's own at that stage in life.

"Son of a bitch," he grumbled with delight. "Back when I matched their years, I scrapped for bits with feral packs in Thunderwood Forest!"

"No matching it. Absolutely no matching it!"

Through mere words, Anubis revealed insight, discernment, and drive that topped Dirtclaw's boldest dreams.

Intellect. Foresight. Might. Anubis possessed the full set.

That was his young one!

And Wepwawet matched him step for step. A twofold triumph.

Dirtclaw sensed he'd struck life's grandest prize.

"You appear... quite joyful?" Gustalon tilted his form, the breeze murmuring that the elation pouring from Dirtclaw surpassed even the Gnoll's bliss upon reaching Legendary rank.

"Quite joyful!"

"Brother Gustalon, have you observed?" Dirtclaw beamed, waving loosely at nothing. "The breeze through Blackstone City seems a touch gentler today."

Gustalon remained still in his spot.

He embodied wind made alive. Could Dirtclaw truly believe he understood the winds more than he did?

Unthinkable.

Still... as Dirtclaw's words rang out, it rang utterly real.