Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

In effect, the blood elf race had now become a buffer state between the human kingdom and the stoneheart horde. Furthermore, the terms of the summit stipulated that the blood elves could not levy tariffs on any of the horde's official trade caravans passing through their new lands. It was one of many hard concessions; far away in Soaring Bird City, Sylvana was still fighting for better terms.

"Lord," Onyx said, his voice suddenly serious after Orion had finished his summary. "A few of us… we want to continue the fight. For you, and for the horde."

Orion paused, then slowly raised his eyes and scanned the faces of the elders at the table. Onyx, Ursa, Thundar, Fergus, Earthshaker, Rockwell… they were his old guard, his most decorated veterans.

Their eyes burned with a fierce, desperate hunger.

Orion realized that he didn't know when, exactly, these familiar faces had begun to quietly fade from his daily life. If not for the journey to the Dragon Crucible, he might not have seen these loyal companions for months. His only connection to them had become the cold, immutable orders sent down from the castle. Since Lumi and Soraya had ascended to the Legendary level, these old warriors had drifted further into the background.

They had resigned themselves to their fate, believing their own talent and potential could no longer keep pace with his. But Dirtclaw's ascension to the rank of Lord had ignited a spark of hope in their hearts. If Dirtclaw could endure the trials necessary to break through, then so could they.

And so they now sat before him, desperate for a chance to return to the battlefield, to seek that razor-thin hope of advancement in the crucible of battle and the shadow of death. Even Rendall, who had once fallen into a deep despair, now had a fire in his eyes that Orion hadn't seen in years.

Is that so? Orion mused, draining his goblet in one long swallow. Perhaps… they don't need my protection after all.

The thought struck him with the force of a revelation. Ever since the formation of his sand scorpions, cave spiders, and undead armies, he had made a conscious effort to shield these old friends. In the most brutal, high-risk battles, he would instinctively hold them back, sending in the disposable armies to bear the brunt of the assault. He had kept them safe, but in doing so, he had likely severed their chances to grow in the flames of war.

Perhaps it's better to let fate run its course for each of them.

His decision was made. He raised his goblet to them all.

"My friends, I understand what you ask of me. After tonight, go home and get your affairs in order. I will have new assignments for all of you. The expansion of the stoneheart horde is not over, and I expect your journey is not over either. I expect you to be with me when I ascend to the very pinnacle of power."

He raised his cup higher. "To victory!"

A roar of approval went up. They all leaped to their feet, raising their goblets, their faces alight with ecstatic, fanatical smiles. Orion chuckled. In their eyes, he saw the same fire he remembered from the very beginning.

Silverwood Realm, Forest of Nature.

Orion led the charge personally, with Tangere, Gustalon, and Clymene at his back. Hidden within the ranks of the undead army below, a Mist Wraith lord and a Cyclopes lord moved with them. It was a vast force with considerable power. Every demonic monster in their path became just another casualty in their path.

They marched from The Stillness, sweeping through the heartland of the former Wood Elf domain and beyond, cleansing the forest of the vast majority of the demonic infestation.

They soon reached a place of great significance: Taur'asimil, which in the old Elven tongue meant 'Place of Origin.'

"Captain… we're home."

Angel stared at the familiar tree-dwellings of her former home. She felt a desperate urge to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. Her grief was a silent, hot stream that ran down her cheeks. Since the day the forest had fallen, she had dreamed of this moment, of walking the paths of her home once more.

"Yes," Xylia said softly. "We're home."

She gazed at the ruins. Under the demonic monsters' occupation, every single treehouse had been shattered and pulled down. A sickly green moss and twisted, magically corrupted plants now covered everything. But to see her home again, even in this broken state, brought her a strange sense of peace.

"Let's go," she said, turning away without a flicker of hesitation. "We will follow my lord, we will tear down the Black Tower that birthed these monsters, and then we will return to rebuild."

She knew with absolute certainty that until the monsters were gone for good, this ruin would remain a ruin. Only by driving them out could they ever truly have a home again.

"Right behind you, Captain," Angel said, wiping the tears from her eyes. She and the rest of the tear-streaked elven squad turned and marched back into the heart of the war.

At the edge of the Forest of Nature, the undead army was finally met with fierce resistance. The leadership of the Cult of Four, stationed in the Black Tower, had clearly reacted quickly. The demonic monsters that had been scattered across the landscape were now converging on the army, slowing their advance to a crawl.

"Any idea where my lord went?" Tangere asked, a note of concern in his voice. The moment the resistance had stiffened, Orion had flown off on his own.

"The wind tells me a terrifying presence is approaching from afar," Gustalon said, his form hovering in the air as he stared into the distance. "My lord has likely gone to face an enemy we cannot."

The distance was too great for Tangere or Clymene to sense it, but Gustalon was different. The very elements whispered to him, and they were screaming of danger ahead.

"An enemy we cannot face… an arch lord being?" Tangere mulled over Gustalon's words, the implication dawning on him.

"Our orders are to reach the Black Tower as quickly as possible," Clymene declared, her voice cutting through the tension. She steered her Blight Wyrm into a steep dive, slamming into the ground and, in a single coordinated strike, obliterating an Alpha-level demonic beast that was charging their lines.

"Let's focus on the fight," Gustalon said, glancing at Tangere. "A tower capable of producing this many monsters will not be a simple target." He then dissolved into a gust of wind, rejoining the battle. With his deadly efficiency added to the fray, the army's advance began to quicken once more.

"Right…" Tangere said, taking a deep breath. "A little unsettling, but I must admit, the plague in the air… it's exhilarating." For him, the foul energies radiating from the demonic monsters were pure nourishment.

Without Orion, he felt exposed, but there was no turning back now. All he could do was proceed with caution.

Far in the distance, sensing the approach of another arch lord, a recovering Yilaya the Witch emerged from the Black Tower and flew to meet her new foe.