Titan King: Ascension of the Giant - Chapter 1342

Capítulo 1342: The Mermaid’s Bargain

It was a long time before they finally pulled apart.

“I had calculated a timeline,” Seraphina murmured, her voice husky. Her chest rose and fell against his. “I thought I’d be waiting five centuries, perhaps a millennium, for you to climb to this height. For you to stand where I stand.”

She stared at Orion, her eyes wide and unblinking, as if trying to carve his image into her retinas. It was a look of possessive adoration, a mix of surprise and profound relief.

“To see you ascend to Demigod status so quickly…” She traced the line of his jaw. “It defies logic.”

“I’m curious,” Orion said, tightening his grip around her waist and letting their body heat mingle. “Why me?”

It was a valid question. When the Dragon Race had captured her alter-ego, Marina, she could have escaped at any moment. Instead, she had allowed herself to be assigned to Orion. She had chosen to serve him, to be his bedwarmer. Was all of this—the sex, the servitude, the loyalty—part of some prophecy she had seen?

Seraphina didn’t answer with words. She simply smiled, a secret curling at the corner of her lips.

“It had to be you,” she whispered.

She lowered her head, capturing his lips again. But this time, the kiss was different. It wasn’t just passion; it was a transaction.

Orion felt something smooth and solid slide from her tongue into his mouth. He swallowed it instinctively.

The Mermaid Pearl.

As the thought formed, Seraphina’s voice echoed directly in his mind, bypassing his ears.

“Keep this safe for me. When I need it back, you’ll return it the same way.”

Her mental tone was mischievous, dripping with the satisfaction of a trap well sprung.

Orion didn’t respond. He turned his focus inward, tracking the object as it settled into his core. Compared to the pearl Marina had carried, Seraphina’s was in a league of its own. It wasn’t a static gem; it felt like a living thing—a miniature, spectral mermaid swimming through his bloodstream.

As it dissolved into his system, a surge of power that was distinctly not Divine Power flooded his veins. It was cool, vast, and heavy.

“Primordial Essence,” Orion realized, his eyes snapping open. He looked at Seraphina in disbelief.

This wasn’t just a magical trinket. The pearl contained the concentrated Origin Power of the Titanion Realm’s oceans.

“Shh.” Seraphina pressed a long, elegant finger to his lips. “It’s our secret.”

“This is the Essence of the Sea,” she explained, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It was enough to get me to the first step of Demigod status, but to go further… I’m stuck. I need an external force to disrupt the stagnation. I need a new equilibrium.”

She straddled him, her smile turning predatory. “It’s too late to back out now, darling.”

“So,” Orion grinned, locking his hands behind his head and looking up at her with relaxed confidence. “You’re harvesting me. I’m just a battery to you.”

“Harvesting?” Seraphina laughed, the sound bright and clear like a bell. “An ugly word for such a beautiful process. But yes. Essentially.”

She leaned down. “The question is… are you up to the task?”

Orion’s grin widened. “You’re about to find out.”

He grabbed her hips, his large hands nearly encompassing her waist.

The Mermaid Pearl was, technically, a foreign object within his body. Yet, it acted as a perfect conduit.

Orion, having forged his own Abyssal World, understood the mechanics of Origin Power far better than Seraphina realized. While she hadn’t spelled it out, the logic was clear. Seraphina wasn’t just a powerful mermaid; she was the avatar of the Titanion Realm’s oceanic will. That connection gave her immense power, but it also capped her potential. She was bound by the realm’s limitations.

To surpass her limits, she needed more than just Faith Energy. She needed a catalyst. An external variable.

She needed Orion.

She had likely burned through countless divination rituals to find this specific timeline—the one path where Marina would meet him, serve him, and eventually lead to this union. Without the persona of Marina, Seraphina and Orion would have remained strangers, or worse, enemies.

Now, the Pearl was creating a circuit. It fed Orion the Sea’s Essence, and in return, it siphoned off a portion of his own unique Origin Power. When she eventually reclaimed the Pearl, that mixed energy would shatter her limits.

In the mystical terminology of the ancients, they called it “Dual Cultivation.” Here, it was simply a biological and metaphysical symbiosis. A trade.

And business was good.

Silverwood Realm: Current’s Bend

In the years since its construction, the city of Atlantis had transformed. It was no longer just a fortress; it was a sanctuary.

Through the subterranean currents and hidden slipstreams, the Sea Race had flocked here in droves. Atlantis had become a beacon of freedom, a “Free City” beneath the waves where the only requirement for entry was a clean record. The population had exploded, swelling to over ten million souls, turning the seabed into a sprawling metropolis of coral towers and bioluminescent avenues.

Today, the perimeter guards were on high alert.

A massive vessel, shaped like a humpback whale and humming with magi-tech engines, glided through the defensive barriers. It docked at the primary port, the airlocks hissing open to reveal a delegation.

Stepping onto the platform was a creature of nightmare and elegance: a Marilith Naga. Her serpentine lower body coiled with latent power, and from her torso sprouted four slender, deadly arms.

Behind her marched a squad of elite guards—the Knights of the Tetrarch. They were encased in heavy, pressurized plate armor, faces obscured by rebreather masks.

“Impressive,” muttered Kraken, watching from the high balcony of the intake station. “Full environmental suits. The Cult of Four has deeper pockets than I gave them credit for.”

Kraken, one of the three Grand Marshals of Atlantis, allowed a flicker of greed to cross his eyes before burying it behind a mask of diplomatic stoicism. He adjusted his own armor and strode forward to meet them.

This was the official envoy of the Cult of Four, a High Priestess sent to negotiate.

“Welcome to Atlantis, fair emissary,” Kraken boomed.

He stopped a few feet from the Naga and extended a thick, muscular tentacle from his back, offering it in a low, curling gesture.

The Coil. It was the standard greeting in these waters—a gesture of trust and shared strength, akin to a handshake but far more intimate.

The Marilith Naga didn’t take it. She pivoted her torso smoothly, sidestepping the tentacle with practiced grace.

“Your passion is overwhelming, Marshal,” she said, her voice cool and detached. “But I must decline the intimacy.”

Kraken slowly retracted the tentacle. His expression remained polite, but his eyes narrowed.

Refusing the Coil wasn’t just rude; in the Silverwood Realm, it was a statement of identity. To reject the greeting was to reject the culture. It confirmed what Kraken, along with Leonidas and Orion, had suspected.

She wasn’t local. She wasn’t from the Titanion Realm or the Silverwood. She was an off-worlder.

And if she was a powerful female off-worlder…

Kraken’s mind raced. Could she be the ‘Witch’ that Leonidas and Hulk warned us about?

He kept his posture relaxed, knowing that Leonidas and Orion were watching from the shadows. He decided to press her, just a little.

“My apologies, my lady,” Kraken said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. “But if you cannot even stomach the customs of the Sea Race… how do you expect to rule them?”