Titan King: Ascension of the Giant - Chapter 1153

Chapter 1153: Breaking the Matrix

The Demigod of the Moonwell placed a steadying hand on Isilra’s arm. “What we need to do now is hold the line and wait for the signal. Wait for the moment we can hit them from both sides with the Alliance.”

“My child, you are now bound to Orion of the Champions Alliance. Contract or no contract, the time has come to put your faith in him.” Moonwell demigod’s gaze was intense. “Trust your husband. It’s better for him, and it’s better for you.”

It was the wisdom of ages. Since gaining sentience, Moonwell demigod had witnessed countless mortal loves within Staghelm City—some that burned bright and fast, some that endured like old-growth trees, and plenty that curdled into bitter resentment. The one constant in every happy ending was trust.

“Isilra, do you remember the prophecy we saw?” she asked, her voice softening. “There is hope for Staghelm City. And in that vision, you had a bright future ahead of you.”

Moonwell demigod knew it might have been a necessary lie. The future was never set in stone; what they had seen was just one possibility among millions. But right now, it was the hope she had to give—as much for herself as for Isilra.

***

Beyond the walls of Staghelm City, in the silent void of uncharted space, three figures remained concealed, their eyes fixed on the shimmering, four-colored elemental barrier encasing the city.

“Looks like the Cult of Four brought another Pontiff to the party,” the Deputy Commander observed. As a mage demigod, the arcane formation before him felt as vast and complex as a galactic nebula. He could sense the four brilliant stars at its core—the four demigod Pontiffs anchoring the Dodecahedron of Four Elements.

“So what’s the play?” Alexander asked, his brow furrowed as he stared at the distant fortress. “Are we just going to charge in headfirst?”

“They’re waiting for us,” Arthas said before the Deputy Commander could reply. “In their eyes, we’re the last three mobs in a dungeon pull. Basically free loot.”

His gallows humor didn’t even earn a twitch from the other two.

“It’s just a formation,” the Deputy Commander stated, his voice flat. “It’s not like we didn’t bring our own.” The words hung in the void for a moment before he produced a sealed magic scroll.

He tore it open without ceremony. In a flash of light, two elite, blade-wielding guards materialized before them. They were the Commander’s personal guard—both at the demigod level.

“We await your orders, sirs,” one of them said with a sharp nod.

Just like that, the Champions Alliance assault team numbered five demigods.

Next, the Deputy Commander brought out an object resembling a complex puzzle cube, its surfaces shifting with arcane light.

“Matrix Cube,” he explained. “It’s engraved with a Mimicry Matrix. Arthas, you’re with me. Kael, Roric—you too.” He gestured to the two newly summoned guards. “We’ll use this to replicate the Cult’s formation. We’re going to fight fire with fire, break their matrix from the inside out. When we do, it’s going to destabilize the entire spatial lock.”

He turned to the last member of their trio. “Alexander, that’s your window. The moment space warps, you get into Staghelm City and link up with Moonwell demigod. That makes it six of us against their four. I want us to take them all down, right here, right now.”

The plan was solid. Alexander, with his unconventional and unpredictable methods of attack, was the perfect choice for a surgical insertion. Once inside and backed by Moonwelldemigod’s power, his lethality on the front lines would skyrocket.

“And remember,” the Deputy Commander added, his tone dropping to absolute zero. “The traitor dies. Even if it’s just an avatar.”

The message was clear: others could escape, but the one they called Clown was not leaving this battlefield.

“Let’s move.”

***

Back in a nameless valley in the Godforsaken Land, the battle had already erupted.

The region teemed with Cretaceous beasts. Summoned by their demigod masters, tribes from across the Cretaceous World had mobilized. The ones just outside the valley were the first to answer the call, launching a frenzied assault on Orion’s position.

“Hahaha… Rolan, nice one!” Tarn yelled, sidestepping the gale-force charge of a Triceratops before using his trident to parry a volley of incoming wind blades.

Rolan, moving perfectly in sync with Tarn’s rhythm, seized the opening. As Tarn dodged, Rolan lunged, his own trident shattering the spinal column at the base of the Galehorn’s neck. The Alpha-tier beast collapsed, its charge cut short.

“Kill confirmed!” a third voice roared. A heavy figure charged from the flank, bringing a massive greatsword down and severing the creature’s head.

It was Slagor.

The three had formed a temporary combat squad: Slagor played cleanup and support, throwing up defensive water barriers for the other two, while Rolan and Tarn acted as a two-man spearhead, tearing through any enemy that came at them.

“Damn, the plating on these things is insane,” Slagor grunted, kicking the Triceratops head aside. A logistics team would deal with the corpses later; their job was to target and eliminate the Alpha-level threats in the horde. “If we hadn’t all upgraded to transformative weapons, I’m not sure we’d even be able to scratch them.”

He clapped Rolan on the shoulder. “Kid, gotta say, for a second there I saw the Lord himself in you. You’ve got his speed.”

Slagor, now at the peak of the Alpha level, saw Rolan and Tarn as the next generation. Teaming up with them was as much about mentorship as it was about combat effectiveness. He had fought alongside Orion back when they were both Alphas; no one understood their Commander’s fighting style at that stage better than he did. Though Slagor had never broken through to the Legendary level, his years of battlefield experience were more than enough to guide these two rising stars.

“The only thing you’re missing is an abyssal dragon at your back,” Slagor added with a grin. “You too, Tarn!”