Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Old Monsters Never Die

With the nascent Abyssal Springhead settling into place, the original was no longer in peril. The core of the void stabilized, the terrifying pull and the spectral altar vanishing completely. It was now just a font of pure power, rotating silently in space, emanating an incredibly dense wave of Abyssal energy. Orion had a feeling that, nourished by this energy, the Shattered Space itself was slowly beginning to heal.

He didn't dwell on it. Reaching out, his Curse Avatar channeled its divine power to take control of the Abyssal Springhead. There was no resistance. The font of power began to shrink, compressing until it was the size of an apple, hovering in the avatar's palm just as the Spring of Life once had.

Just then, the universe screamed.

"You damn piece of filth! Put down the Abyssal Springhead. That belongs to me!"

In the distance, a Demon of grotesque appearance, with eight massive bone spikes fanning out from its back like skeletal wings, roared into existence. The moment it arrived in the Shattered Space, it thrust its Bone Spikes, launching a devastating attack directly at the Curse Avatar.

Instinctively, the avatar shielded the Abyssal Springhead with its body, raising its own trident to block.

BOOM!

The Curse Avatar was thrown backward, a shockwave of force rattling through it. Orion was stunned. His senses told him the Demon was merely an archlord, yet the force of its attack was easily on par with a first-stage demigod.

Crack!

Before Orion could counterattack, another figure tore through the fabric of space. The aura was unmistakable: a virtue knight at the peak of the archlord rank.

"Alveron!"

"Zareth!"

Like sworn enemies bound by fate, they recognized each other in an instant. But what made Orion's mind reel was the fact that their roles had been completely reversed.

The avatar Alveron had sent was a Demon Lord. The one from Zareth, the calamity lord, was a Virtue Knight.

The irony was staggering. The two friends-turned-rivals, so consumed by suspicion and paranoia, had each ended up walking the other's path.

"He has the Abyssal Springhead," the demonic Alveron growled. "We take him down first, then we settle things."

"Agreed!" Zareth's knightly form responded without hesitation.

For all their rivalry, they were still two sides of the same coin. They reached an accord in a heartbeat.

Alveron produced a relic that radiated a terrifying aura—a staff with a crosier adorned with chiming bells. Zareth mirrored the action, summoning a relic of equal power: a jet-black urn.

The bells began to ring, an unnatural chime that warped the space around them. Simultaneously, a thick black fog poured from the urn, threatening to consume the entire Shattered Space.

A profound sense of mortal danger washed over Orion. He knew, with absolute certainty, that if he didn't play his final card right now, he wouldn't even have the chance to dissolve into a strand of hair and escape.

He unleashed his final, hidden gambit.

"Figures," Orion muttered to himself, a sentiment that was part praise for his enemies and part a grim reminder. "The old monsters from the abyss are never easy."

The next moment, a blade aura of incomparable brilliance erupted into existence. It shattered the bells on the staff and vaporized the encroaching black fog.

Two screams of disbelief echoed in the void before being abruptly silenced.

Orion didn't see the aftermath. The instant he unleashed the last of his blade flashes, the Curse Avatar took the opening and fled the Shattered Space, leaving Alveron and Zareth to whatever fate awaited them. He couldn't care less.

In the Titanion Realm, within Stoneheart City, the Curse Avatar once again separated from Orion's true body. A smile touched Orion's lips. He'd made it back just in time. Any later, and the contingency plans left by Alveron and Zareth would have snatched the Abyssal Springhead from his grasp.

Orion took the prize from the Curse Avatar, a flicker of excitement and triumph in his eyes. He quickly suppressed it, forcing a cold calm over himself.

"Your aura has most likely been marked by those two," Orion said to his avatar. "It's no longer safe for you in the abyssal world."

He considered his options. "Go to the Silverwood Realm. Leonidas is about to enter negotiations with that old dragon in the south. He'll need your support."

The Curse Avatar nodded, merged back into Orion's body, and then re-emerged through his corresponding avatar in the Silverwood Realm.

Silence descended upon the castle.

He had the key. Violet and Caelus could be brought into existence at any time. But first, he needed to analyze the entire incident to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

It was clear that Alveron and Zareth were both treacherous schemers. Orion had no idea if the strike he'd unleashed in the Shattered Space was enough to finish them off for good. It wasn't that he lacked faith in the power of the commander's blade flashes; it was that his opponents were simply too powerful. One a fifth-stage demigod, the other a fourth-stage. It was impossible to overestimate them.

Even if the blade flashes had destroyed their avatars, Orion highly doubted it meant they were truly dead. Old monsters who had lived for countless eons would have countless backup plans and resources stashed away.

"Not only did I piss off two ancient powers, but I also used up the last of the commander's gift," he mused. "Another trump card gone."

He had a gut feeling that the blade flashes were a one-time gift, a starter pack to ensure the survival of new recruits. Once they were used up, members of the Champions Alliance were expected to have grown enough to stand on their own. He thought of Alexander and Leonidas; they had faced countless dangers, but he'd never seen them use such a power. He guessed his two bros had probably exhausted theirs long ago.

"A virtue knight… a calamity lord… they had one contingency after another. The good news is, their greatest sources of power were converted into the Abyssal Springheads." He held up the small, swirling orb. "One was consumed by the abyss, and the other is mine. For now, I don't have to fear their immediate retaliation."

Once I reach the demigod stage myself, I won't have to worry even if they show up at my doorstep.

He was weighing the costs and benefits. If Alveron and Zareth weren't dead, they had his avatar's signature. It was only a matter of time before they tracked him down. For apex predators like them, with millennia of accumulated resources and experience, cultivating a new demigod avatar in a short time was entirely feasible.

That cultivation period was also his window to grow stronger.

A sudden caution seized him. No… I can't merge with the Abyssal Springhead right away. Fifth and fourth-stage powerhouses… they must have terrifying abilities I can't even comprehend.

This wasn't paranoia; it was prudence. Their level of power was beyond his current understanding. To be safe, he had to wait.

He finalized the plan in his mind. Just in case, I'll wait for the Deputy Commander to awaken from his slumber. I'll have him set up a defensive formation first, then I'll proceed with the fusion. And the fusion itself can't happen here, not in the Titanion Realm, nor the Emerald Dream Realm or Silverwood Realm. It has to be in the Valkorath Realm.

The Valkorath Realm is the commander's domain. If something goes wrong, he'll be watching. Under his gaze, nothing should go wrong.