Titan King: Ascension of the Giant-Chapter 809: The Skeleton King Returns

"These bastards," Leonidas growled, materializing at Orion’s side. "When they get serious, they’re even worse than the dark races we’ve fought before."

He didn’t elaborate on what had transpired within the crystalline prison, but he didn’t need to. Orion understood. For Leonidas to be forced to sacrifice an avatar... he must have been pushed to the absolute brink, with no other recourse.

"Brother, what do we do with the ones down below?"

On the battlefield carved into the mountainside, countless soldiers of the Silver-Eyed army remained. In the eyes of Orion and Leonidas, they were no longer an army, but spoils of war. A cake to be carved and distributed.

"Simple," Leonidas said, his voice devoid of pity. "Enslave any who willingly surrender. For those who resist, kill them, take their eyes, and we’ll bestow them upon the allied forces as rewards for their service. After that, we sweep across the northern continent."

In his worldview, mercy toward an enemy was a fatal flaw. This war, a war the Silver-Eyed had started, had cost him an avatar. It was more than just a loss; it was a wound to his pride. To have his dignity so thoroughly trampled in front of his own student was something Leonidas could not accept. A humiliation of this magnitude could only be paid for in blood.

"Are all invaders so direct, so cruel, so brazen in their convictions?"

A new voice spoke, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was not a voice of anger, but of cold, supreme judgment.

"To openly manufacture such slaughter, to revel in such sin... it seems you cannot be allowed to remain."

Orion’s senses reeled. He felt a sudden auditory hallucination—the distinct tick-tock of a clock’s second hand in a silent room. In the face of such an anomaly, he felt a primal dread grip his soul.

A pillar of incandescent light descended from the highest point of the heavens, engulfing both Orion and Leonidas. Within its radiance, their movements turned to sludge, their very consciousnesses rattling in their skulls. They were pinned, immobilized by a power far beyond their own.

A phantom projection of a demigod coalesced within the light. He glanced down at the battlefield of the Ashenfang Traverse, and with that single look, the entire war ground to a halt. Every combatant froze, not bound by a spell, but stunned into submission by a terrifying, overwhelming presence.

The weakest among them collapsed, their minds lost in horrifying illusions of their own insignificance.

The demigod appeared as a young man, bearing the signature silver hair and silver eyes of his people, but his forehead was smooth, lacking the third eye of his lesser kin. He stepped forward, his posture radiating a serene elegance, his stride unshakably firm. With every step he took, the pressure crushing Orion and Leonidas intensified.

"The... cage... is closing... old friend..." Leonidas forced the words out, each one a monumental effort. It was their code, the signal they had long ago agreed upon to summon their true forms for a battle of last resort.

The demigod’s pace was deliberate. With each footfall, his aura swelled, and a crushing wave of intent washed over the two Archlords—a will that demanded they fall to their knees in reverence. His eyes were clear, as tranquil as a mountain lake, yet they seemed to pierce through the veil of the world.

He wore a simple white robe, his expression one of placid dignity, but beneath that magnificent facade, Orion saw only ice-cold killing intent.

On the battlefield below, the soldiers of the Silver-Eyed army prostrated themselves upon the ground, their voices rising in a chorus of reverent praise.

"The Divine Lord descends to grant his aegis!"

"The Divine Lord descends to grant his aegis!"

"Divine Lord" was their most hallowed title, reserved only for their demigod protectors. His arrival, they believed, was a sign that the war would end, that hope had been restored.

The phantom smiled, as if listening to the prayers of his devoted children. In the reflection of his eyes, Orion saw a chilling vision: countless figures kneeling before the demigod, submitting to be commanded, to be trampled.

Faith energy. The demigod was actively gathering the belief of his followers, using it to strengthen this projection.

"The old gods are sealed," the demigod announced, his voice calm and absolute. "You have no one to call upon. All your struggles are in vain. Surrender to me. Swear your faith to me. Seal it with a soul oath, and you may live."

He stood a short distance away, studying them. His gaze lingered on Leonidas, who could no longer maintain his human shape under the immense pressure and had reverted to his Void Dragon form.

The demigod recognized the creature for what it was—a being of a higher order than even the colossal dragons, a rare and special race among dragonkind, a lineage of the highest order. To gain the fealty of a Void Dragon would be an immeasurable boon.

"Hahaha... Surrender? Faith?" Leonidas roared in defiance. "To you? Are you even worthy? It is nothing more than a powerful will projection. You think I haven’t seen your kind before?"

He was a cornered beast, but his spirit was unbroken. Once his true form arrived, the outcome of this battle was far from certain.

But as Leonidas roared, Orion made a decision. He exhaled slowly and chose not to begin the summons. Instead, he would use his own ultimate gambit. Blood Sacrifice. The rite that offered a fifty-percent chance of killing an enemy one tier higher than himself.

He wanted to see if the skill’s power had grown or been constrained since his own ascension to Archlord. Besides, summoning his true form might not be as effective as this single, all-or-nothing blow. And if it failed... Leonidas would be his safety net. Surely his brother’s full power could annihilate a demigod’s projection, especially a damaged one.

"I truly despise enemies like you," Orion said, his voice a low growl, his eyes beginning to glow with a predatory, blood-red light. "Standing in the clouds, looking down on me as if from on high. Do you really think we become ants just because you view us as such?"

He would attempt a feat of legends: to slay the will of a demigod while still an Archlord. The killing intent and grim determination coalesced around him, his power beginning to climb, point by agonizing point. At Leonidas’s feet, a shimmering ripple that even the demigod’s power could not suppress began to spread. The summoning of his true body had begun.

...

"Leonidas. I haven’t seen you fight this desperately in many years."

Another voice, this one achingly familiar, cut through the tension. A wave of palpable death energy, black and chilling, rolled forth, blotting out the demigod’s holy light. The pressure vanished.

"Arthas!"

"Brother!"

Orion and Leonidas cried out in unison, their voices filled with shock and unadulterated joy.

Zing!

The sound of a sword being drawn. A simple, unadorned sword carved from white bone tore a rift in the fabric of the void, slicing through the light and carving a gateway before them. The heavy tread of armored boots echoed from the other side, a sound that made even the demigod pause his advance and watch.

Then, from the gate of shadow and bone, the Skeleton King, Arthas, emerged.

He was clad in bone armor that was both familiar and strangely new, wreathed in a clinging, inescapable aura of death—at once alien and profound.

"Wahahaha! You bastard, you’re finally awake!" Leonidas instantly canceled the summoning ritual. He zipped over to Arthas’s side, eagerly circling his old friend, who now radiated the unmistakable power of a demigod.

"Leonidas," Arthas said, his voice a dry rasp. He glanced at the Void Dragon. "You still haven’t improved much."

Then his gaze fell upon Orion. "Very good. Very impressive."

The furious power Orion had been building, the half-recited words of his sacrificial rite, all of it vanished in an instant, replaced by overwhelming relief.

"Brother," Orion breathed, a grin spreading across his face. "Your timing couldn’t be more perfect."