Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1451 Parting Gifts

"Though the Monai race has perished, their lineage lingers on."

"Raveth, are you aware of why your clan failed in the power contest?"

"Do you understand why the Holy Order sided with your foes?"

Aina's tone remained gentle, infused with an alluring charm.

As he trailed behind her, Raveth shivered while a frightening idea began to form in his thoughts.

"The cause is straightforward. It's due to your emerald-green eyes."

"You bear the Monai blood."

In reality, this was only Aina's speculation. Yet, even as a hypothesis, the likelihood seemed strong.

"Right or wrong, fact or fiction... we won't linger on those matters," Aina remarked, pivoting with a radiant grin. "Let those who come after us decide."

If death claims us in combat, she mused with icy detachment, no offspring will follow. And as for the opinions of strangers' heirs? Why should that bother me?

Titanion Realm, Blackstone City.

Within the Horde's grand hall, Orion gradually lifted his eyelids.

Kronos and Pallas stepped in side by side. Following some acclimation, the siblings had at last grown accustomed to their roused bloodlines, assuming their mature shapes. This very growth prompted Orion to set challenges for them now, to hone their abilities.

"Are you two aware of your destinations?"

Orion's words carried warmth, free from the aloof presence of a Demigod or the weighty command of a King.

"Father, I'm prepared to heed your directives," Kronos responded.

"Father, count me in too!" Pallas added eagerly.

Orion gazed upon his pair of sons. Among his offspring, they might not boast the most extraordinary gifts, but they had remained nearest to him for the longest time. Even during Kronos's stint in distant Soaring Bird City, for a Demigod such as Orion, monitoring him required merely a glance.

They had arrived for farewells.

Rolan, reunited with his true mother, had swiftly reached out to Kronos. Pallas's trip to the Platinum Authority had long been planned.

"The Abyss teems with myriad mighty beings. Clashes are unavoidable," Orion cautioned gravely. "If victory eludes you, retreat. Living brings no dishonor."

A crimson glow flickered in Orion's grasp. He directed it toward Kronos, and suddenly, boots edged in gold and cloaked in scarlet force materialized upon his boy's feet.

These were the Boots of the War-Tyrant. Infused with teleportation functions and the striking force of Asura Blood Light, they served as versatile tools for fighting or fleeing.

"Father, and for me?"

While Kronos still reeled from receiving such an elite relic, Pallas already called out. Among his brothers and sisters, Pallas stayed closest to Orion and proved the boldest.

"You?" Orion huffed. "You've bloomed like a sheltered flower. Indolent and without ambition."

Flames burst from Orion's hand as a trident took form. He flung it lightly to Pallas.

This was among Orion's favored arms: Spite of the Wrathful Star. A splendid relic that could summon banned flames. Orion typically wielded it through his avatar, but now it would aid his son.

Pallas seized the trident single-handedly, his gaze igniting. Since Elara had flaunted her Flame of Will, jealousy had gnawed at him.

"Keep this in mind," Orion warned, his face stern. "While away, avoid tarnishing the Stoneheart Horde's honor!"

"Now, depart!"

Orion abhorred goodbyes.

Having shooed away the youthful pair, he fixed his gaze vacantly on Blackstone City's far-off skyline. He lingered in reverie until a gentle heat pressed against him. Lilith had drawn near silently and now rested beside him.

"Finding it tough to let them leave?" she inquired tenderly.

"Somewhat. Pallas has faced little hardship. His start will prove challenging."

With Pallas's teleportation to the Platinum Authority, an emptiness had formed near Lilith. Whether born of her or not, none of the young ones stayed with her anymore.

"Relax," Lilith reassured. "Our kids need to forge their paths. You've equipped them with potent aces. Serious perils won't befall them."

Orion extended his arm and softly stroked her back. Then, recalling a detail, he murmured quietly.

"Kaelen and Sophia reach Blackstone City in a couple of days. Prepare accordingly."

"Kaelen possesses great power. Assign him the Horde's latest issues. It'll speed his bond with the group."

Lilith inclined her head. She harbored no resentment toward Kaelen or Sophia. Quite the opposite—after learning their tale, compassion welled within her for the pair. As his stepmother, she recognized the duty to extend fitting welcome when he rejoined the Stoneheart Horde.

"We should bestow upon Kaelen the southern city near Blackstone," she proposed. "Let him have his territory."

Kaelen stood as an adult; sharing a home wouldn't suit. Even Pallas had eventually left Stoneheart City's castle. At present, only their oldest daughter, Elara, could still dwell with Orion and Lilith, yet she too was off on assignment.

"That's exactly my view," Orion concurred.

As the children departed successively, a subtle disquiet crept over the duo.

Eldoria, The Agaman Heartland.

Sunbeams, fluffy clouds, cooing pigeons.

A majestic cathedral whose steeple stabbed the heavens, stone-paved walkways, and rays piercing ornate Gothic stained glass. Serenity and splendor reigned.

The harmonious chime from the steeple's bell rang out, signaling the close of evening devotions.

As worshippers scattered, a red-robed priest clutching a holy book in one hand and a rod in the other made his way back to the changing room.

Maelric settled at his table, stowing the book and rod in a compartment. As he rose, speckled rays poured through the pane, casting light on his features.

At that instant, a lofty, shadowy figure arose from the gloom beyond the chamber's entrance.

"Your presence signals the Holy Order's impending wave of carnage," Maelric stated, not bothering to look.

He cast a quick look at the shade before grasping a feather pen to amend papers.

"You shine as the Holy Light's pinnacle," the shadow rasped. "Surely you detected it prior to me. A glow south of the Andor Diocese has dimmed to nothing."

The shadow served as the Inquisition's leader. He brushed off Maelric's demeanor; functioning beyond Maelric's church hierarchy, they held parallel status.

"It might just be a postponement. Or a hermit priest ascending to the Divine Realm," Maelric countered, eyes on his work. His rationale held merit. "Precedents exist for such events."

"Were it only a devotee rejoining the Light, I wouldn't have come."

Only upon hearing this from the shadow did Cardinal Maelric gradually lift his gaze. Surprise evaded his expression; instead, a frigid fatigue showed.

"What proof do you have?" Maelric queried. "Who stands as the foe? What form of heresy now?"

Maelric's words cut direct. He loathed the Inquisition's role in igniting violence within his territory. It aided not at all in guiding the believers.