Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

He had gone from a grunt in the cannon fodder corps to Onyx's second-in-command, then rose to Deputy Commander of the fodder troops themselves. After that, he was given his own gnoll armies to lead.

And from there, Dirtclaw's path was one that Onyx could no longer comprehend.

He broke through to the lord level, then ascended to the upper Legendary tier, and had just recently hit the peak of his rank.

Dirtclaw's story was a living legend within the Stoneheart Horde.

"Heh heh… it's been a long road, a mix of luck and dodging death at every turn. I'm just glad I had you and Thundar by my side, Prophet," Dirtclaw said, a little bashfully. He scratched the horns sprouting from his head with a massive claw. "Prophet, sometimes I look back on it all, and even I can't quite believe it."

It was true. He had been just a common gnoll, one of many Orion had subdued on the borders of the Thunderwood Forest. For a gnoll to have come this far was an unprecedented event on the continent of Utessar. In all of known history, no gnoll had ever broken past the Legendary barrier.

Now, Dirtclaw was the first.

And this was not his final destination. His next target was archlord. He would carve out more territory for the Stoneheart Horde, for his own future, and for the generations of his kin to come.

"Prophet, sorry I couldn't find a suitable dragon for you this time."

Onyx shook his head. He knew his own kind. A dragon was not the ideal mount for an obsidian golem.

"No need to be sorry. You have a good eye, but this one," Onyx said, gesturing to the blood-beast behind him, "is still my best choice." It was a companion that grew in power alongside him.

"Besides, with your strength, Prophet, you don't really need a flying mount," Dirtclaw added. "Once you break through to the Legendary level, you'll be able to fly using your own transcendent power. After that, there won't be much that can hold you back."

Dirtclaw knew this from personal experience. He'd never had a mount on his own journey. In fact, most of the time, he was the mount. At the Alpha-level, he'd often served as a ride for his brothers-in-arms. Even now, at the Legendary level, he occasionally played the part. But whether he was a mount or a warrior, his power was undeniable, and no one would ever dare to underestimate him.

Onyx didn't reply, a faint flush of embarrassment on his old face. It seemed Dirtclaw had more faith in him reaching the Legendary level than he had in himself.

His gaze drifted past the dragons to the distant battlefield.

***

At the front, a tide of undead was surging forward.

"Are we really going to sweep the entire continent?" The question came from Vargrum, his voice echoing from within Clymene's shared consciousness. Grendel, the one who reveled in battle, was currently in control, and through his eyes, the others witnessed a scene of breathtaking brutality.

Death knights, Ghosts, Plague-thralls, Magically summoned beasts, and Skeletal Dragons formed the vanguard, charging with utter disregard for the dragonfire and fear-inducing auras of their enemies. In moments, the first wave of dragon beasts was torn to shreds and devoured. In the sky, dragons wreathed in corrosive flames would periodically plummet to the earth, becoming food for the swarming spiders below.

"I never imagined a war like this," Desdemona remarked. This world-breaking, relentless war was a spectacle that shook all the souls bound within Clymene's body to their core.

"Elder," a Skeletal Knight's consciousness chimed in, "after this war, we must take time to consolidate. Our clan must become a true power. We need to show our lord that the strength of the Skeletal Knights doesn't rely on an endless supply of low-level skeleton soldiers."

Desdemona shared the sentiment. The Skeletal Knights had accumulated immense resources over the recent wars. To truly mature and become a foundational pillar of the Stoneheart Horde, they needed time. In a battle of this scale, their role was minimal; they were mostly just adding to the numbers.

The real heavy lifting was done by three main forces: the cave spiders serving as cannon fodder at the front, the undead legions summoning skeletons behind them, and the mage corps acting as a long-range artillery battery far in the rear. These three armies formed the true backbone of the coalition. Leonidas's arrival had also brought several flying corps, patching up the coalition's main weakness.

Playing a supporting role alongside Clymene was Tangere, who had mixed himself in with the undead forces. He had already been granted his own territory and wasn't required to join the southern invasion, but he had come anyway. As he put it, if this was a coalition, then he would do his part. Dragons were highly resistant to plague, but he could still deal with the lesser dragon beasts and their subordinate races.

While directing his Plague-thralls, Tangere looked up at the Curse Avatar standing in the heavens. The mighty aura radiating from the demigod was a profoundly reassuring presence. He still couldn't quite believe that the man he knew as Hulk had managed to pull together so many powerful beings.

What kind of circle is this? I've been on the Survivor's Platform for so long… why have I never heard of them?

As a specialist in survival and laying low, Tangere had been part of many small circles on the platform. But he had never once encountered a demigod-level Survivor. Now, he had met several, and his entire understanding of the world had been shattered and rebuilt overnight.

This has to be my future, too.

It was a promise he made to himself. He was grateful that Orion's appearance had guided him to a completely different level of existence. If he had continued on his previous path, it might have taken him centuries of careful maneuvering to accumulate what he had now, and his power would likely be nowhere near its current height.

The war raged on, the land scarred and blurred by the flames of battle. The wind kicked up dust, and in its swirling eddies, the souls of the fallen seemed to keen and cry.

***

Titanion Realm, Stoneheart City.

On his throne, Orion stirred as if from a dream. He slowly opened his eyes, then closed them again.

On the Survivor's Platform, two new members had just been admitted to the private channel he had created.

They were Scarecrow, who had successfully ascended to the lord level, and Aina, whom Orion had met in the Tower Defense World.

Aina: Has poor Aina finally found her people?

Aina: In this long, cold, eternal night, Aina finally has someone to talk to!