Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1465 Legacy of the Gallows

Indeed, Caesar understood right away. His gaze brightened with sudden insight.

"Outstanding. I've been tossing and turning at night about how sluggish my foot soldiers are. Lady Aurora, your coming here has just sealed the largest gap in our lineup."

Caesar possessed a strange habit—he treated every woman he admired as kin. Aerin was his sibling, Aina was his sibling, and even the fearsome Elara had turned into "Big Sis" in his words. He was an incessant family expander.

"Brother Tangere, rest easy. I'll ensure my troops sync flawlessly with the Brawnbulls!"

Aurora smiled brightly. Being acknowledged, appreciated, and swiftly woven into the plan—it was all she had dreamed of.

The Boss truly is brilliant, she mused, buzzing with ease. Bribe the right folks, smooth the way. The Kraken Strategy always delivers.

Rely on the Boss, reap the rewards.

In that instant, Aurora, a trial member of the Champions Alliance, cemented her spot in Orion's close group.

Central Region, The Agaman Diocese.

The Agaman Holy Order served as the pulsing core of the theocracy, the main power that united the various dioceses.

As the massive bell atop the city's central tower rang out nine times—deep, sorrowful chimes that resonated in the bones—the whole area went silent, soon erupting into wild frenzy.

Nine rings marked the start of a True Holy War.

It signaled full mobilization. The old folks, the kids, the women— all became warriors for the Holy Order. It was their creed. It was the supreme trial of devotion to the Goddess.

Within the Cathedral, Private Sacristy.

Cardinal Maelric parted from the sobbing believers with a serene, kind smile. He pivoted, entered his personal chamber, and once the sturdy oak door latched, the holy look evaporated from his features like mist in a storm.

"High Inquisitors Albrecht and Cavendish have gone back to the Goddess's side."

The sound emerged from the gloom in the room's corner. It belonged to the Commander of the Inquisition. This time, his tone wasn't merely icy; it cracked with bottled fury.

"I care much more about the events in the Andor Diocese," the Shadow Commander snarled. "Why didn't the High Priest of Andor alert us to this danger? Why was there no call for help?"

Each diocese in the Holy Order was overseen by a High Priest—a true Lord-class expert. For the Andor Diocese to plunge into heresy, with two High Inquisitors perishing and the local rulers staying mum... it was like the whole area had gone mute and sightless.

"You refer to Orel?"

The darkness moved, oozing disdain. "I regret delivering this grim tidings, but when the Inquisition picked up the trail, Orel had already shifted. He escaped to a different plane altogether."

The murmur from the shadows dripped with derision. To the Inquisition, the outward-facing priests were empty facades—decaying roots gilded by the Holy Light. They were sly, evasive schemers who bolted when trouble brewed.

"From the documents we salvaged from Andor's wreckage, Orel probed the oddity near Grimm once—soon after the hurricane emerged."

"Right after, he submitted a relocation request. One you signed off on, Maelric."

Cardinal Maelric's expression soured. He saw he'd been manipulated. His underlings had filtered the news reaching him.

"We suspect Orel spotted the hurricane, identified the mark of a Demigod-tier clash, and grasped that a godly battle loomed," the Commander went on. "Thus, he hid the details and bolted."

"Luckily, a bit of duty lingered in him. He scattered some clues behind."

The shadow's voice swelled, thrumming with fury and gleeful spite.

"You constantly blame the Inquisition for chaos in your territories, Maelric. Yet the decay truly begins with those 'reliable aides' you rely on so heavily. Do you question it?"

Noting Maelric's furrowed forehead, the Shadow Commander laughed lowly.

"The creator of the Hellscream group—that enigmatic Saintess—is the baby girl of Grand Duke Astravale."

"She was meant to be a pious devotee of the Holy Order, a highborn lady fond of journeys and aid. Her dossier piles up high. We tracked all her travels, all her contacts. She earned praise for her generosity, untainted by typical noble flaws."

Eldoria was the Holy Order's domain. They monitored every lamb's lineage.

"But here's the secret you missed," the Commander murmured.

"A deposit of Holy Light Ore turned up on Grand Duke Astravale's estate. To the Order, this ought to have been a boon. If the Duke had joined forces, he'd have gained riches and influence. And indeed, that was the Duke's plan."

Maelric's brow jerked. He'd received no such briefing.

"Curious about the conclusion?"

"Your 'faithful' aide, Orel, buried the find. He craved the mine personally. So, he branded Grand Duke Astravale a blasphemer. He condemned the whole household to execution."

"Wiping out a lineage is routine enough. But Orel slipped up. He allowed the daughter to slip away."

The tone showed no qualms about killing. The Inquisition had witnessed darker deeds.

"That young woman... she possesses skill. In some way, she reached out to an Outer God—a forbidden being—and employed a banned technique to trick the Realm Wards, letting these infidels invade our fields."

"In this way, Hellscream arose. And now, a Demigod eyes our realm."

The dark voice grew solemn. When they mentioned an "Evil God," they referred to a Demigod. A peril that could shatter societies.

"Care to learn further?" the Commander jeered, his inflection flipping from serious to taunting. "Let's talk about the Black Shura, Raveth."

"Let me recall... his kin controlled Port Caelwyn. His grandfather's holding. And today? That territory got taken by your forces too."

"Ah, and Port Caelwyn got a new name from Hellscream. They dub it 'Sunless City' these days."

"Heh... Sunless. A spot untouched by the Holy Light."

The blatant scorn caused veins to throb on Maelric's forehead. He clutched his desk's rim until the timber creaked.

"And the rest follow suit," the shadow pressed on without mercy. "Ghost Shura Kharos, Flame Shura Ashkar, Iron Shura Eryx... want us to go over their conversions? Ghost Shura Kharos was merely—"

"ENOUGH!"

Maelric bellowed, his cry snapping like a lash.

He drew in a ragged breath, glaring into the blackness beyond the door.

"If the Inquisition uncovered all this corruption," Maelric challenged, half-standing from his seat, "why didn't you alert me? Why didn't you permit me to purge the tainted?"

"Why?"