Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1449 Old Bones, New Blood

The journey to the Stoneheart Temple broke through limits for countless individuals. Society had transformed; its members now craved ambitions that soared taller, tougher, and more distant.

The council session dragged on until the sun reached its peak at midday.

As the rest scattered, Dace headed straight for the outer fortress's command center. He had taken up his role once more as the Guard's Chief.

Now a warrior at the Legendary rank, Dace's choice to resume guarding duties could appear as a step down to outsiders, yet for him, it rang as a sacred duty surpassing any holy war. He served as Orion's unbreakable barrier. As the last remaining member of the initial guard, his survival carried deep weight.

Within the Stoneheart Horde, Dace held the title of First Sentinel. A proud heritage demanded his unwavering commitment.

Orion entrusted him with a fresh mission: shaping the upcoming wave of defenders. From here on, each Giant Prince would seek out Dace to gain a protector fitting their noble rank.

"Otho, Beyn, Torba... witness the Golden Age of the Stoneheart Horde."

To the vacant space around him, he uttered the names of those lost, paying tribute to the spirits that kept vigil alongside his own.

Moonshadow Valley. The Mustering Grounds.

From the elevated reviewing stand, Elara commanded the view. Ursa positioned herself at Elara's left; Anubis took the right flank.

Upon learning of Elara's campaign into a foreign realm, the Gnoll Anubis forsook his opportunity to step into the Stoneheart Temple. He favored the grime of combat fields over the splendor of rising to higher realms.

Elara gazed across the expansive valley. Her legions lined up in flawless, fearsome ranks. A subtle smile tugged at her lips. This scene had filled her dreams from her earliest years.

At last, the time had come for her to muster the troops.

"Raptor Cavalry, one hundred thousand!"

Naturally, the forces gathered in the valley represented only a fraction of the total might. These stood as deadly samples, displayed for the Commanders' close examination. To unleash the full million-warrior host, Elara required Orion's Commander Token.

"Cave Spiders, including Broodmothers and their keepers... two hundred thousand!"

"Giant-blood Shock Troopers, ground assault squads... two hundred thousand!"

"Thunderstorm Bearmen Shield-Breakers..."

The Grand Elder's Estate.

Once they departed the Horde Hall, Thundar trailed Rendall to his private domain—a vast, well-known tent reeking of aged hide and lingering fumes.

"A fresh trial ahead, right, Grand Elder?"

Thundar lifted his wine mug, letting out a deep, weary breath.

Rumors of the army's overhaul had reached his ears, yet he never anticipated the changes striking with such speed. In his mind, the reshuffling would hold off until the Eldoria conquest concluded.

"What? Sensing the strain? Or merely worried about losing your spot as Cavalry Commander?"

Rendall slammed back a huge swig of liquor, brushing his lips with a pleased rumble before jabbing at his junior colleague.

"The strain weighs heavy. But the rank itself... truthfully, my drive for it isn't that strong."

Thundar shook his head slowly. As the Horde's Battle Elder, the authority he wielded increasingly felt like an overwhelming load unfit for his shoulders.

"It's chaos," Thundar confessed, eyes fixed on his drink. "And far too many players in the mix."

He snatched a chunk of roasted flesh that Rendall extended, ripping into it with sharp bites.

"Wolf Cavalry, Raptor Cavalry, Flame-Tiger Cavalry, Cave Spider Riders, Scorpion Riders, Xenobeast Riders..."

Each chew brought another frustration to his lips.

"That's only the land troops. The Air Corps? Dragon Beasts, Thunderhawks, Ravens, Harpies, Vultures, Nightwings..."

"Don't forget the Marine Cavalry. Half their mounts' names escape me entirely."

Thundar forced down the bite and met his mentor's gaze.

"Grand Elder, take a good look. Can a Cavalry Commander like me truly wrangle this madhouse? I wasn't even Legendary before the Temple."

A harsh, mocking chuckle escaped him.

In his Alpha days, command lines stayed straightforward. Anything with legs and a mount fell under his rule. But today? Elite squads, war beasts, riders mightier than himself... they bowed only to sheer dominance.

Some days, Thundar yearned to issue directives yet felt lost on how to begin.

"The Chief nailed it: 'When the will outstrips the reach, and cunning falters the scheme.' That's me to a tee."

Thundar sagged in his seat, draining a burning draught of spirits. Blame didn't fall on Orion. It landed square on his own failings—his weakness, his dull mind, his failure to bear the Horde's weight.

"Hahaha! Thundar, mocking the fool I once was?"

Rendall's guffaw boomed out, bold and without regret.

"Worn out and worthless. Without Orion's father's mercy, the scavengers would've claimed me ages back."

Rendall owned his former failures outright. He revealed his fears, the hopelessness when he believed his era ended. The turmoil Thundar faced now, Rendall had endured long in the past.

The key divide lay in Rendall exhausting his growth ceiling. Thundar merely doubted his own resolve.

"Thundar, eras shift!"

"Back then, the Stoneheart Horde lacked promise. We clung to strength and duties since no alternatives existed."

"But glance about! Genius sparks in every lineage's young."

"Will you stand as the decayed log damming the flow? The stubborn relic gripping a role beyond your grasp?"

Thundar stared in surprise. Briefly, he saw the fiery youth in Rendall—the fresh Alpha breakthrough, brash and ablaze, set to raze the Black Forest.

"Thundar, your concern's no issue at all."

Rendall hoisted his mug. Thundar tapped his in response.

The drink scorched its path, fierce and biting. It pierced the haze clouding Thundar's thoughts.

"Thundar, ordinary Giants endure two hundred fifty years."

"Alphas claim three hundred fifty."

"Legends? At least five hundred ahead."

Rendall let out a burp, wine beads dotting his silvered whiskers.

"Your age, Thundar?"

"Barely ninety-nine."

"Time stretches before you. Centuries to master skills, to cultivate, to climb higher."

"As Orion put it: 'Refining the self knows no finish line.'"

Drunkenness settled over Rendall. Not from weak tolerance—he deliberately held back his superior energies from purging the booze. He craved the haze. He sought the thrill.

"Us veterans... our role shifts to yielding ground. Clear space for rising stars."

"Her Highness Elara. The Princes. That rascal Rolan. Steelblade. Dirtclaw's cub... their gifts surpass us all. Every one."

Thundar stayed silent. He observed the Grand Elder, whose gaze burned with zealous fire.

"They forge the Horde's tomorrow!"

"Our duty... old friend, ours is to nurture them. Wave upon wave of splendid slayers. Dispatch them to claim realm after realm."

"Let the young bear the Chief's renown. Let them hoist the Horde's banner. Let them spread the Stoneheart saga... till it blazes brighter than the heavens' lights!"