Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1453 Forging the Future

Shortly thereafter, the rift burst open.

Masses of Ocean Hunters, water-dwelling Hydra-beasts, and Sea-Drake Cavalry poured out, resembling an overwhelming wave of fangs and armored scales.

Orion's strategy remained straightforward: release the swarm. He intended to allow this force to overrun the Westreach Trench, pursuing every Siren concealed in the fissures. Yet their primary role served as sentinels in danger—mere bait dispatched first to activate any deadly snares the Sirens had concealed within their domain.

At this point, Orion and his allies simply needed to await the outcome.

Taking advantage of the temporary pause in battle, Orion allowed his mind to wander, delving into the ethereal domain of the Survivor's Platform to organize his troops.

Hulk: "The Rite of Fatebound Offering arrays will activate on schedule in three days. Are you all prepared?"

Orion transmitted the communication to his inner group.

Aerin: "Godfather, all supplies and cannon fodder for the expedition are stored and set. I hope for a triumphant beginning for you all!"

Aerin, the Wood Elf, wouldn't participate in the assault team. The Forest of Nature had only lately achieved tranquility, and the Elven numbers remained dangerously sparse. Moreover, Wood Elves inherently favored peace; their zeal for offensive warfare was absent. They represented a people who would seek dialogue even as foes torched their entranceways.

The Demonic Disaster had toughened them a bit, yet essence remained essence. Just a minor portion of the Elves had awakened a craving for violence. Orion refrained from pressing the matter. Provided Aerin handled the provisions and maintained the resource pathways, she fulfilled her duty.

Tangere: "Everything's operational. Set to drop anytime."

Tangere replied right after Aerin. The urge for conquest and land acquisition fueled him intensely; he'd been quietly gearing up for months.

Caesar: "Boss, Caesar is ready too!"

With Sword King City's growth, Caesar's assets and influence had expanded greatly. After rising to Lord rank, his assurance had strengthened.

I must contribute more this round, Caesar reflected inwardly. I have to carry my share.

He felt profound thanks for Orion's sponsorship, for the support from Aerin and Tangere in the Silverwood Realm, and for the life-swap items Scarecrow had exchanged with him. He was in debt to them every one.

Scarecrow: "Boss, I'm good to go."

Noting that all had responded, Orion pressed on.

Hulk: "You'll arrive in the heart of the Andor Diocese. Upon landing, the Crawler Legion and Undead Legion will have advanced beyond your insertion area."

Hulk: "Gather your units. Tangere assumes overall control. Trail the two primary legions and aid in clearing the whole Andor Diocese."

Of Tangere, Caesar, and Scarecrow, Tangere possessed the power and disposition most fitting for command. Orion had included these protégés to build skills and harvest rewards, not to perish pointlessly. For them, protection came first above all.

Hulk: "The Santdagon continent yields a unique ore known as Sunstone. Extracting it holds the possibility of uncovering a superior derivative: Void Sand."

Hulk: "Sunstones can be crafted into gear offering protection and cleansing against malevolence—valuable for your soldiers. Void Sand, though, is something I seek myself. Should you discover any, deliver it to me. I'll barter for it."

Void Sand formed an essential element in creating Relic Sets. Orion had gathered it over time. At his present stage, standard Relics no longer interested him, particularly following his acquisition of the Mirror of Theras fragment.

His overarching scheme involved assembling the required components for a complete Relic Set, then cultivating it into a Semi-Divine Artifact uniquely his own. The endeavor would devour vast amounts of scarce resources, but as a Demigod, Orion enjoyed endless opportunity to amass them.

Caesar: "Don't worry! I will find that Void Sand for you!"

Tangere: "I'll watch for any leads on it."

Scarecrow: "Boss, I'll do my best."

After addressing his followers, Orion dispatched a confidential note to Isabella.

Hulk: "Are you set for the descent?"

Isabella responded swiftly, her words laced with bite.

Isabella: "Your Eminence, Lord Hulk. This lowly Isabella has purified herself and stands ready to grace your bed whenever needed. Do you desire my attendance at once?"

Was this some game?

Clearly not.

Orion's prior quip about her as "his woman" still irritated, and the sly vixen taunted him through mock deference. Both held exalted positions—a Queen and a Demigod. A twisted excitement lay in casting such authority into chains of servitude and degradation.

Hulk: "Don't suppose I have the leisure just now. If I did, I'd fill you with eight or ten offspring and confine you to bed for the coming ten years."

Maybe due to their closeness, or a abrupt rush of dark wit, Orion sank his propriety to unprecedented lows.

Isabella: "Shameless! Vulgar! Old lecher! Breeding bull!"

Isabella at last broke, unleashing a barrage of rebukes.

Eight or ten offspring? Immobilized in bed for ten years?

What sort of horrific vision was that?

Ah... horrifying...

Curiously, Isabella caught herself picturing Orion's warning unbidden. She envisioned her form heavy with child, encircled by a tumultuous ring of wailing, tearful, mucus-smeared, waste-messing babies.

The very idea of a chamber stinking of dairy and filth sparked a savage impulse to rend flesh.

Isabella: "Damn you, Hulk!"

Isabella: "You hateful giant!"

Isabella: "Brainless Demigod, ruled by your groin... I shall never carry your spawn!"

Between her oaths, they confirmed the timing and location for her entry.

As Orion prepared to leave the Survivor's Platform, a note from Demon Makareth appeared.

Makareth: "Orion, I want in."

Makareth: "Hand me all the foes. Beneath Demigod tier, none can touch me!"

From the phrasing alone, Orion discerned Makareth had ascended to Archlord status. And, typical of those hit with rapid power growth, his self-importance had swelled. It marked the standard "fresh power swagger."

In time, Makareth would clash with a veteran Archlord and suffer a thorough thrashing, puncturing that pride. But presently...

Hulk: "Head to the Emerald Dream Realm. A portal awaits there. Pass through alongside the Undead Legion."

Orion skipped formalities. If Makareth brimmed with fury, he fit ideally as the front-line spearhead.

A Demon dropping in to spearhead the assault, enveloping Santdagon in utter shadow?

Orion imagined Makareth at the forefront of the push. Indeed, he mused. That captures the perfect atmosphere.