Titan King: Ascension of the Giant-Chapter 387: Whitecliff

At this point, it’s impossible not to mention the Thunderhawks in the team, a feat credited to Rayden.

In the territory once occupied by the Blood Elves, wild Thunderhawks had made their home.

Over the past few weeks, through Rayden’s persuasion and efforts, a number of these Thunderhawks had been brought into the Horde’s ranks.

In mid-air, atop a Thunderhawk’s back, Orion held Sylvana at the waist. His hands weren’t idle either, wandering over her body.

Kitsune Sylvana, sensitive as always, had already collapsed into Orion’s arms, her body weakening under his touch.

Orion inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrance in Sylvana’s hair, and teased her with a playful remark.

"I smell something unusual on you. I’ve heard that when Kitsune are in heat, they exude this scent. Is that true?"

Sylvana, feeling weak and limp in his embrace, didn’t respond. She knew Orion was just teasing her, trying to get a rise out of her.

Especially the warm breath he blew against her ear, causing her to almost stop breathing in response.

Not far away, Blood Elf Lireesa, mounted on her griffin, was watching them. Her eyes flickered with a brief flash of white light.

A moment later, Lireesa stumbled slightly, her throat convulsing as if she were about to cough up blood.

She fought to suppress the discomfort, swallowing the blood back down.

"Like a giant figure in the cosmos... the world of flowers... all the people praying..."

"What will his future be?"

Lireesa stared at the distant sky, her mind racing with questions.

As an elder of the Blood Elves, she knew some methods of future divination.

Just now, she had used the mystical "Star Eye" to peer into Orion’s future, and what she saw was a colossal figure, accompanied by many strange omens.

The figure she saw was enormous—so large that it almost seemed to rival an entire galaxy.

Though the visions were vague, Lireesa had still suffered backlash from the experience.

Fortunately, the spell she had cast was rudimentary; had it been more advanced, the backlash could have been far worse.

On the Thunderhawk’s back, Orion suddenly turned his head and glanced at the distant, expressionless Blood Elf Lireesa.

Just moments ago, Orion had sensed someone spying on him, though the feeling quickly faded.

A grin spread across his face, his eyes flashing with both curiosity and caution, but he didn’t dwell on it.

And so, the mixed team of Blood Elves and giants traveled slowly, flying for over a month before they finally arrived at the dragon territory.

Whitecliff. This was the name of the dragon territory.

After the white dragon Frostsire reclaimed his territory, it had returned to its original name.

Outside the massive city, Orion and Lireesa led the way, landing first.

This was the territory of Archlord Frostsire, and out of respect—both for their strength and their customs—they were expected to land outside the city and enter on foot.

Moreover, this was a special period for the Five-Race Alliance, and it was only fitting that they show each other respect.

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As Orion touched down, a flash of blood light flickered across his chest, and his Abyssal Dragon materialized before him.

With Sylvana in his arms, Orion leapt gracefully onto the Abyssal Dragon’s back.

"Line up, prepare to enter the city!"

At Orion’s command, Rendall and Drakthul shouted instructions.

"Alright, guys, line up!"

A moment later, the group of around one hundred people traveling with Orion summoned their Raptors and mounted them.

Meanwhile, the Blood Elves’ Grand Elder Lireesa and her followers had summoned tall moose, mounting them with precision.

At the city gates, a squad of half-dragons was waiting to greet them.

The Abyssal Dragon let out a thunderous roar as Xalathar’s heavy footsteps echoed, entering the great city.

However, as soon as they passed through the city gates, Orion heard several dragon roars in response to Xalathar’s cry.

Orion looked up, his eyes filled with surprise.

Whitecliff was unlike Stoneheart or Blackstone City. Explore stories at novelbuddy

The architecture here was incredibly unique. The city had few palace-like buildings; instead, towering structures resembling mountain peaks loomed.

These were not just towers, but nests.

Atop these nests stood countless half-dragons, observing Orion and the Blood Elves entering the city.

"What a shame," Orion murmured, "You won’t get to see this spectacular city."

Sylvana, leaning her head back to listen to the sounds around them, could only imagine the scene.

"The buildings here are grand, constructed from a mix of earth and stone. Small paths wind up the high towers, resembling giant swords sticking out of the ground."

"…."

Describing the scene to Sylvana, Orion felt as if he were speaking to a blind woman, bringing the beauty of the world to her through his words.

An hour later, Orion and Lireesa arrived at an oval-shaped building, where they found Glacial Dragon Jorik, Dain the Dwarven Prophet, and Grand Duke Richard of the Human Kingdom already waiting.

"Lord Orion, welcome to Whitecliff!"

Jorik stepped forward and greeted Orion.

Jorik, having fully recovered from his injuries, was now more powerful, having reached the middle Legendary level.

Orion raised an eyebrow in surprise; he suspected that Jorik had gained substantial benefits since returning to dragon territory.

"Lord Jorik, it’s been a while!"

As former allies, Orion was more familiar with Jorik than the other two, and their bond was closer.

"And Elder Lireesa, welcome to Whitecliff as well!"

Lireesa smiled politely, returning the greeting and exchanging pleasantries with the dwarf and human representatives.

It was clear to anyone watching that the Dwarves, Humans, and Blood Elves appeared more united.

However, Orion paid it little attention, as the dynamics were about to change.

Orion studied Jorik closely, sensing that he was different now. He seemed more dignified, more confident in his words and actions.

"Please, come inside. I’ve prepared a feast and entertainment for you all!"

Jorik called out, and the group fell silent.

Under Jorik’s lead, they entered the grand building, winding through halls until they reached a spacious, well-lit reception room.

The room was filled with food—fruit, wine, and meat, with two groups of merfolk maidservants standing by, ready to serve.

"Please enjoy the opening performance I’ve prepared for you!"

Once everyone had seated, Jorik rose, drawing the curtains in front of the room to reveal the full splendor of the massive structure.