Titan King: Ascension of the Giant Chapter 1467 Reborn in Hellfire

A prolonged and splendid vision unfolded in his mind.

Dirtclaw envisioned traversing endless seas and conquering towering summits, stepping into a domain brimming with sheer marvel.

He envisioned his elevation to Demigod status. Perched above the heavens, he overlooked the minuscule, vulnerable existences scurrying across the land with utter detachment.

Within the vision, Dirtclaw wielded unchallenged dominion. He led armies numbering in the thousands, an onslaught of metal and rage surging behind him.

In the vision, he interred mighty warriors using his very own grip.

In the vision, he snuffed out all vitality across a complete realm.

Merely as that realm disintegrated into ashes and the Void surged forth did Dirtclaw grasp the reality. Looming ahead stood an immense being whose stature surpassed all measure—a titan boasting four heads and eight limbs that evoked in Dirtclaw boundless reverence, zeal, and adoration.

"Wake up... wake... wake up..."

Orion's tone floated like a specter, yet carried the weight of absolute directive.

It vibrated straight within Dirtclaw's mind, unleashing a fierce tremor across his essence.

With that quake, the vision fragmented. Dirtclaw jolted alert, awareness rushing in.

"My Lord!"

They perched on a lofty summit. Orion positioned himself at the brink, facing away from Dirtclaw, peering at the roiling Sea of Blood far beneath.

Even from the rear, Dirtclaw recognized him without delay.

"Sense your form," Orion instructed, not bothering to pivot. "See if it obeys your command."

Dirtclaw felt bewildered, yet he never challenged a directive. He directed his attention inside.

He stiffened.

A lupine muzzle. A draconic appendage. A frame sheathed in scarlet, dragon-like armor. At his tail's end rested a sinister, spiked barb resembling a mix of snare and edge.

Dirtclaw had reverted to Gnoll shape, but the essence flowing in his blood was unmistakably Stoneheart Titan lineage.

It formed an odd amalgamation—a shift that somehow fulfilled the raw yearning of his spirit. Except in dire straits, no being truly loathes its own species.

His head prickled with irritation. On impulse, he lifted a hand to rub his fur.

His fingers clutched a sphere of hellfire.

Dirtclaw gaped at his hand. The hellfire seemed known to him. It posed no threat; it felt personal, as if it belonged to his core. Urge guided him, and he restored the blaze to his crown.

Hold on.

That... right there?

Hellfire? Instead of locks?

The truth struck. He extended his arm upward and gathered another clump of flame from his head. His fur had transformed into a crown of vital hellfire, flickering and moving under his control.

"My Lord... what has happened to me?"

Dirtclaw extended his arms, eyeing a physique that seemed foreign yet ideal.

"The Blood Sea devoured your former shell," Orion explained, at last rotating to confront him. "The Divine Kingdom has shaped a fresh one for you. It matches your soul. More robust. Greater prospects."

Upon catching stronger and higher potential, Dirtclaw attempted to call forth his prior force—his transcendent might.

Terror ignited.

The transcendent might had vanished. Replacing it surged a daunting stream of force, recognizable but unique, primordial and burdensome.

"What... what is this power?"

"Divine power."

Orion allowed the phrase to linger. He provided no added details. Certain realities demanded conquest, not handout.

As Dirtclaw concentrated on mastering this fresh deluge, a wave of all-encompassing might coursed through. He sensed direction from an invisible influence, an urge deep in his core.

He yielded to that impulse.

He couldn't recall the duration of his entranced stance, but upon reopening his eyes, Dirtclaw gripped a tiny item.

It resembled an unmarked, tiny gravestone.

"This... what is this?"

Astonishment shifted to incredulity. Dirtclaw failed to grasp when he gained such an odd skill.

"That is Authority."

Orion inclined his head toward the slab. "It embodies one of the laws of the Abyssal World. The decree of the God of the Grave."

Divine Kingdom. Authority. God of the Grave. Rules.

Dirtclaw felt adrift. He wasn't a Demigod; such ideas lay far outside his grasp.

"You know of Soraya's dominion over the Desert, yes?"

Dirtclaw bobbed his head eagerly. He had long coveted that strength.

"What you hold," Orion stated, "is the Authority of Burial."

"Ah..."

Elements aligned. Dirtclaw quivered. He had gained something phenomenal, beyond imagination—something he had merely fantasized about.

"My Lord, does this mean... do I have a chance to ascend to Archlord?"

"Heh."

Orion snickered. The Gnoll grasped nothing of the burden in his grasp.

"You are an Archlord."

"That stone," Orion indicated, "is your Body of Faith."

Orion noted the stunned expression on Dirtclaw's features and gave an uncommon clarification. "Your will stands firm. It delights me, and it harmonizes flawlessly with the Burial Authority of this domain. You transcend a simple Archlord; you serve now as my Exarch. You can draw on a share of my divine power."

Orion smirked. "Armed with that stone, you shall pulverize any standard Archlord bold enough to oppose you."

Stunned? Overwhelmed?

Orion's gaze sparkled with mirth as he observed the epiphany flood his follower.

Thud.

Dirtclaw collapsed onto his knees.

"Praise be to my Lord!"

"Thank you for your grace! Thank you for your favor!"

"Dirtclaw will execute your will!"

Observing the Gnoll prostrating on the earth, Orion emitted a brief guffaw. He raised his leg and booted Dirtclaw right over the rim of the Divine Kingdom.

"Enough bootlicking!"

As Dirtclaw tumbled downward, Orion's words pursued him.

"I name you Commander of the Fourth Legion. Your orders are to scour every Insectoid from the Titan continent."

"Dirtclaw! I expect you to reach the height where you can bury the heavens, bury the earth, and bury all living things!"

Orion's decree boomed through the Stoneheart Temple and resounded throughout the whole city of Stoneheart.

"Thank you for your grace, my Lord!"

"Dirtclaw shall not fail..."

The fawning cries dwindled into nothingness as Dirtclaw vanished.

At that moment, Orion shifted his attention to Onyx and the rest, who continued their arduous ascent of the peak.

Regrettably, none had yet provoked a response from the Divine Kingdom.

The rise of the God of the Grave—this particular Divine Calling—had drawn away some of Orion's faith and a sliver of the realm's auxiliary authority. Outwardly, it seemed to weaken Orion's own strength.

Yet over time, it promised unalloyed gain.

The unmarked gravestone Dirtclaw produced served as a tangible embodiment of the Burial Authority. For expansion, Dirtclaw required flooding that gravestone with immense Faith Energy or ceaseless offerings.

And most of that Faith and those offerings would channel directly back into the Abyssal World.

In essence, the Divine Calling resembled carving a fresh vein for the realm to drain sustenance from the external realms. The greater the number of such pathways Orion established, the quicker his buildup of might would proceed.

With that notion, two particular individuals surfaced in Orion's thoughts.