Titan King: Ascension of the Giant-Chapter 1478: Loyalty and Blood

Ursa hoisted Anubis onto the saddle of her mount, securing him to ensure he wouldn’t slip during the ride.

"My mission isn’t over," Ursa grunted, checking the straps. "I need to push the line forward."

"Rest," she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. "This isn’t a war you have to fight alone."

Titanion Realm, Blackstone City.

Autumn had just begun to settle over the realm. The air carried a crisp chill, yet the bustling energy of Blackstone City showed no signs of cooling. If anything, it was eclipsing the activity of Stoneheart City in the south.

People were beginning to realize that Blackstone City was the new nexus of the Stoneheart Horde. Since the activation of the public teleportation array, property values and commerce had exploded, driven by a frantic gold rush mentality.

Inner City, Dirtclaw’s Estate.

In the past, it was usually Dirtclaw who prepared gifts and went door-to-door to pay his respects to the other Horde Elders. Today, however, the dynamic had shifted. Elders residing in the inner city—both friends and strangers—were lining up to pay court to him.

Even Rendall and Thundar were no exception. They arrived carrying jars of fine wine, stepping through the gates of Dirtclaw’s manor.

"Greetings, High Warden!"

"Greetings, High Warden!"

Rendall and Thundar bowed in unison, their smiles a mix of genuine congratulation and unconcealed envy.

"Arch Elder Rendall, Brother Thundar! You didn’t need to come personally." Dirtclaw rushed out to meet them, ushering his two seniors into the private sanctum of the estate.

Rare spirits and delicacies were already laid out. For years, Dirtclaw had treated Rendall and the older generation with the deference of a junior. Before his rise, their guidance and strength had been his lifeline.

"Rules are rules," Rendall said, his face stern but his eyes twinkling. "Do you think the title of High Warden of the Stoneheart Horde is beneath us?"

Rendall believed in hierarchy. Dirtclaw was now a figure of legend, second only to Orion. He carried the weight of the Horde’s glory. Even veterans like them had to respect the mantle he wore.

Dirtclaw laughed, pouring a brimming bowl of spirits for Rendall. He knew the old giant’s temperament well. A few bowls of firewater, and the stiff Grand Elder would revert to the boisterous warrior of old.

"Dirtclaw, I’m here to ask a favor," Rendall said bluntly after wiping his mouth.

"Steelblade has his path set, but the others—Bloodforge, Ironmaul, Grimhammer, Doomshard, Frostcrusher... they need a grindstone. I won’t lie to you. Those whelps don’t have the natural talent of your two pups, but they are solid bloodline warriors. They can charge a line."

Dirtclaw had recently been appointed Commander of the Fourth Legion, a force numbering in the millions. In a few days, he would head to Moonshadow Valley to muster the troops. Rendall and Thundar were there to ensure their descendants made the cut.

They wouldn’t trust anyone else with their kin. But with Dirtclaw, they had absolute faith. They also hoped that serving under him would rub off some of his grit onto their progeny.

"Thundar, you feel the same?" Dirtclaw asked.

Thundar nodded. Having advanced to the Legendary Tier, his potential had expanded, and his future was bright. He had considered training his kin himself, but every time he looked at the monstrous growth rate of Anubis and Wepwawet, he abandoned the idea of a safe education.

"Grand Elder, Brother Thundar," Dirtclaw said, his expression sobering. "I won’t turn you away. But if you give your whelps to me, understand this: I will assign them the most dangerous missions."

He leaned forward. "You know my history. I crawled out of a grave to get here. If you want them to transform, I have to be ruthless. They will be ground down. Either they die on the battlefield, or they bloom into something terrifying."

Dirtclaw knew they weren’t asking for protection. They were asking for evolution.

"For a member of the Stoneheart Horde, death on the battlefield is the highest honor," Rendall said, his face hardening into a mask of solemn pride. "It is a good death."

"Agreed," Thundar added. "A warrior’s funeral is the only one worth having."

"Then it is settled," Dirtclaw said, refilling their bowls. "Now that business is done... Grand Elder, I took a trip to the Emerald Dream Realm after leaving the Divine Kingdom. I brought back some treasures. Come, take a look."

South, Stoneheart City.

Prince Theodore and the old general, Oswin Calder, stood in the great hall of the castle, waiting for an audience with the King.

On the dais, Orion sat upon the throne. Lilith sat to his left, Ava to his right.

"Theodore greets His Majesty!"

"Oswin Calder greets His Majesty!"

Even though Orion was suppressing his aura, the sheer presence of a Demigod made the air feel heavy as lead. Theodore and Oswin were visibly nervous.

Oswin, in particular, was trembling. To a mortal general, a Demigod was a creature of myth, a living deity. Being in the same room was overwhelming.

"We are family," Orion said, his voice resonating through the hall. "Your safety is under my protection."

It was a vow. Orion knew how well Theodore had treated Ava and Kronos in the past. As an elder of the family, he had a duty of care.

"As for Northguard..." Orion paused. "I will enfeoff the region to you. It remains your territory."

Theodore let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. This was the outcome Oswin had prayed for.

"However," Orion continued, his tone shifting from familial to imperial, "the power structure of Northguard will be restructured to match the Horde’s standards."

" The old aristocracy is abolished. Hereditary rights are gone. If your people want power or status, they will earn it through merit and military service, just like everyone else."

Orion leaned back. "I will allow you a personal retinue of one thousand soldiers on your land. Beyond that? If you want more power, or a higher station... buy it with loyalty and blood on the battlefield."