Titan King: Ascension of the Giant - Chapter 1206

Chapter 1206: The Foundry Citadel

Ashreign was practically vibrating with excitement. Orion’s silence on the soul harvesting was a tacit approval to expand the Wraith Knight army. If things went according to plan, once these souls were fully converted, his own power as the army’s commander would skyrocket to the level of an archlord.

It was a simple, brutal calculus. Every Wraith Knight generated a torrent of pure, fanatical faith. That faith would first channel into him, their commander, and then concentrate into Orion. In short, Ashreign’s power level was directly linked to the size of his army.

“This is Wraithfire,” Ashreign explained, presenting the skull to Orion as if it were a priceless artifact. “It will perform the final purification, burning away the Light and all their memories, leaving them truly clean.”

Orion listened quietly, filing the information away.

Just then, a procession of his commanders approached. Eparus led the way, followed by Holrivus, Thronlis, First Army Commander Bidalun, Standard-bearer Vex, and the Dracolich Phorzak. They came to a halt before him and bowed their heads in unison.

“My lord.”

Before Orion could respond, the abyssal dragon Xalathar bounded forward, dropping to a crouch and nudging Orion with a head so massive it nearly sent him sprawling.

“Nice,” Orion said, scratching the dragon behind a horn the size of a boulder. “You’ve already broken past the peak of the legendary tier.” He gave the dragon an affectionate shove. “This is the sixth layer of the Abyss. This is our new stomping ground. I want you to start farming territory for the Tribe, get your grind on, and hit archlord as soon as you can.”

Of everyone here, Orion knew Xalathar best, and the feeling was mutual.

“At ease, all of you,” Orion said, addressing the rest of his command. “I’m here to back up the Conquest Legion, but I also wanted to see the giants I brought back.”

As he spoke, his gaze drifted past his commanders to the towering figures emerging from the spatial rift. Every single giant from the Shadowabyss race immediately fell to their knees, prostrating themselves on the ground. Muffled whispers rippled through their ranks, phrases like, “The Titan God manifests…”

They had seen it. They had seen him activate his Titan Form and devour the knight’s body of faith. To these giants, he wasn’t just a leader; he was a divine being of their own kind.

“The fortress construction can wait,” Orion decided. “I need to deal with the giants first. Get them properly sworn in.”

As he spoke, Orion’s form began to swell, growing into his colossal Titan Form, reaching his full, terrifying height. An ancient, terrifying aura washed over the kneeling giants, pressing down on them with such weight that none dared to lift their heads.

“By the First Covenant, sworn in the age of the old gods,” his voice boomed, deep and resonant, echoing in the mind of every giant. “The lesser must follow the greater. This is the law for all clans, be it Stoneheart, Ironbone, Starveil, or Shadowabyss.”

“I, Orion of the Stoneheart, King of Giants, hereby claim you. This tribe of the Shadowabyss is now conscripted into my service.” He let the weight of the declaration settle before continuing. “In accordance with the Covenant, I grant you the right to challenge me. I grant you the chance to win back your freedom.”

He paused. The giants remained motionless, their very existence held in his grasp. A being who was practically a demigod was not someone they could challenge.

Then, his voice thundered again, imbued with an unshakeable authority.

“And now, by the authority vested in me as Orion of the Stoneheart, I declare the shackles on your souls broken! I give you your freedom!”

These Shadowabyss giants had been slaves, a part of their pride and their ferocity stripped from them. Now, Orion, using the authority of the Giant-King, was offering them not just freedom, but a rebirth. The title of Giant-King wasn’t as reality-bending as Survivor, but within the giant tribes, it carried an immense, almost sacred weight. It was more effective than any argument or promise he could make.

“I expect you to wash the stain of your subjugation away in the blood of our enemies!” he roared. “Reclaim the honor you were forced to discard! Giants are born free, bound by no chain, oppressed by no master!”

“I want you, your children, and your children’s children to remember this day—the day your branch of the Shadowabyss became free! To preserve that freedom, you will fight without fear, you will break before no obstacle, and you will defend with your lives the dignity you have reclaimed!”

He took a deep, world-shaking breath.

“GIANTS! WILL! NEVER! BE! SLAVES!”

It was an old line, but it hit like a thunderclap.

One by one, the giants on the ground lifted their heads, their eyes burning with a renewed, fanatical light, fixed on him. On their King.

“GIANTS WILL NEVER BE SLAVES!”

The response began as a murmur and swelled into a roar that shook the very foundations of the ruins, a deafening, cathartic cry of a people reborn.

***

Half a day later, Orion and his two avatars sat on a makeshift dais in the center of the ruins. The senior command of the Conquest Legion were gathered around them, some standing, some seated.

“Alright, you all know my story. I made my name in a world outside the Abyss,” Orion began, his eyes scanning the faces of his lieutenants. “That means I’ve got gaps in my knowledge of this place, which is a damn shame.”

He leaned forward. “But it’s not a weakness. It’s our ace in the hole. The Conquest Legion isn’t alone here. We have an entire faction, a whole power base on the outside that no one in the Abyss knows about.”

Every situation had two sides. With time and effort, they would turn every perceived weakness into a strength.

“I have no doubt that every one of you is capable of carving out an empire for us here,” he continued, his voice hardening. “The Conquest Legion will have its own faction, its own allies, right here in the heart of enemy territory.”

This wasn’t just a plan; it was a directive. They weren’t here to lie low. With a demigod backing them, their purpose was relentless conquest and plunder.

“Our empire starts here,” Orion declared, his tone turning deadly serious as a wave of killing intent rolled off him. “On this pile of rubble.”

“I don’t care what this place was called. I don’t care who used to own it. From this moment on, this is the sovereign territory of the Stoneheart Horde. And on it, we will build our fortress.”

His gaze fell upon the three Scourge Wardens, who remained immense even while seated.

“Eparus. We will call this place ‘The Foundry Citadel.'”

“You and the other Scourge Wardens will oversee its construction. I want a megastructure, a fortress capable of housing millions. I want you to drill down, tap into the magma flows, and build us forges that will arm the entire Conquest Legion. Remember this: The Foundry is our starting point for our war against the higher Dimensional Folds of the Abyss.”

He stood, his gaze sweeping over them all one last time.

“This is where our legend begins.”