Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1438 Elder of Instruction

"Grand Elder, the Stoneheart Horde is setting up a fresh position at the high council: the Elder of Instruction."

Orion's words echoed across the expansive Divine Kingdom.

"The Academy we're constructing demands a Headmaster. It calls for an individual of unbreakable honesty, one who earns deep admiration. Will you accept this heavy responsibility on behalf of the Horde?"

So far, the Horde had relied on four key figures: Rendall, the Elder of Discipline; Thundar, the Battle Elder; Delilah, the Elder of Stewardship; and Onyx, the Elder of Prophecy.

These positions had emerged from the chaos of battles, crafted purely for order and expansion. Yet with the Stoneheart Horde growing larger and more intricate, the tight grip on authority had turned into a hindrance. Splitting duties was unavoidable.

Only through dispersing power could fresh possibilities arise. A stiff chain of command suppressed abilities; a targeted system opened slots for emerging talents to occupy. Positions needed to be defined first so the suitable individuals could claim them.

"Your Majesty," Rendall bent deeply, his tone heavy with feeling. "I accept. I offer my body and spirit to this duty."

Orion gave a nod of satisfaction. This idea had burned in his mind since founding the initial youth camps. Those camps served as the early model, a breeding ground for devoted followers who now supported the Horde's leadership core. The upcoming Academy would merely scale up that method, broadening learning from the upper ranks to everyone.

"It's decided then," Orion declared. "I'll return you now. The folks waiting outside must be eager for news on the Stoneheart Temple."

As the Giant King, Orion loomed like an unreachable force, mighty and a shield against outside dangers. Rendall remained grounded and approachable, real and ready to share messages while handling everyday matters.

"Your Majesty, I'll make sure they grasp the Divine Kingdom's rules before stepping inside."

Orion flicked his hand. Reality twisted, and the Grand Elder disappeared.

Titanion Realm. An Unknown Cavern.

Buried inside an old, hardened chrysalis, Eryndor floated in pitch-black emptiness.

Gradually, illumination and heat started seeping into his casing, energizing his inactive form. This went beyond mere warmth; it was raw life force, a feeling of organic elevation that teetered on bliss.

"My champion... the moment has come to shatter your bonds."

The sound was gentle, smooth as fabric on metal, reverberating in his slumber.

Eryndor snapped alert. He understood he wasn't in his sleeping spot. Instead, he found himself trapped in a cage of his own design.

This ancient chrysalis represented a risk. It provided the insectoid species a route to advancement, though failing meant perishing—melting into sustenance for the young. Eryndor ought to have perished. His capacity was spent.

Yet destiny proved unpredictable. A gateway to the Wormhole Realm had appeared, engulfing his cocoon entirely. Within the Hive's Great Pit, a Broodmother detected him and channeled her essence into his enclosure, shifting the balance of his transformation. "Shatter... shatter it... escape!"

His awareness exploded. Recollections rushed in. He grasped his next move. Hiss!

A deep, humming vibration rose from the tight shadows.

Thump. Thump. CRACK.

Powerful strikes rattled the chrysalis internally. For the span of half a day, the steady beats persisted, until fine cracks webbed over the hardened exterior.

With one last, moist rip, the chrysalis burst apart.

Eryndor rose from the wreckage. He transcended a simple fighter now. Enormous, rainbow-hued butterfly wings spread from his shoulders, gleaming with lethal dust.

"Eryndor! My son, you've done it at last!"

Kar'Sheen, who had stood watch over the cocoon like a guardian, hurried over.

The move to the Wormhole Realm had aided the father too. Absorbing the surrounding forces of the Hive, Kar'Sheen had surpassed his boundaries, rising to Alpha status.

"Father!"

Eryndor emerged from his shattered confines, hugging his family. But prior to any rejoicing, an aura thickened the atmosphere with scents.

"My champion. You've awakened."

Eryndor stiffened. His urges urged him to strike, yet that voice... it matched the one that led him through obscurity.

"Calm yourself, Eryndor," Kar'Sheen urged, letting go and pointing to the shape nearby. "Meet Myxara. Her help alone saved you from becoming mere liquid in a husk."

Myxara lingered, a Broodmother disguised as a fragile human-like maiden, but exuding a fearsome, instinctual flawlessness.

Eryndor spun around. His pulse raced in his chest. To humans, she could seem strange; to insectoids, she embodied perfect allure.

"My champion," Myxara murmured, advancing. "Will you fight for our swarm's triumph?"

She inclined her head.

"Swear fealty to me, and I'll bestow the privilege of fathering the noblest lineage."

A Broodmother, an Alpha-level King, and a fighter forged in the Wormhole Realm. The blend of these powers was set to spawn something

unsettling.

The North. Blackstone City.

A surge of weighty, timeless force emanated from the Grand Elder's residence. It faded swiftly, yet for the sharp perceptions of the Horde's leaders, it

acted like a beacon.

On the eastern slope, a huge rock trembled and revealed two shining

eyes.

"Prophet! It's the Grand Elder. He's returned!"

Rockwell's thrilled shout echoed before Onyx had completely separated

from the rock.

"Unlock the cellar," Onyx ordered, lifting from the ground. "Fetch the aged wines. Ready a present. We're heading to the manor."

No speculation required. He understood Rendall well. That burst of presence signaled a welcome to his longtime comrades.

...

In another part of the city, Gort, the temporary Chieftain, rose from his workstation.

"I'll handle the offering personally," he grumbled, unusual eagerness tingeing his words.

In the Inner City, within a opulent sleeping chamber, Dirtclaw halted. He had been caressing a recent acquisition, a mount, tracing the saddle, when the presence struck

him.

"Ha! At last!"

Dirtclaw shoved the human slave girl from his bed, disregarding her cry as he strode to the exit.

"Anubis! Wepwawet! Drag your mangy hides here!" he bellowed along the corridor. "You two whelps are joining me to honor the Grand Elder!"

He turned toward his private storage. He refused to approach Rendall without something in hand.

In the southeast area, the Buffalofolk territory. Earthshaker was conducting a practice drill with his two youngest

offspring. His elder kids had stalled long before, but these pair... these two

retained fire.

He paused abruptly, his gaze whipping toward the Grand Elder's home. "Wife," he growled, facing the older Buffalofolk female seated close, repairing his war mantle. She had stuck by him in tough times and prosperous ones. "Fetch from the safe. Get me the saved Dragon Scale from the expedition."

He regarded her, his ox-like gaze warming a touch.

"And remain indoors the coming days. Stay put. With the Grand Elder returned... maybe advancement awaits you too."