Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

Roar!

Just then, a thunderous dragon's roar suddenly reverberated throughout the area.

The roar continued to escalate, growing louder and more overwhelming with every second. It was so powerful that it seemed to shake everyone's very soul.

In the next instant, a bone dragon with a crystalline skeletal body soared into the sky. Its pair of tattered, fleshy wings spread wide, blotting out the sun.

Behind the bone dragon, a tail covered in razor-sharp barbs swayed through the air, creating a deep, resonant whoosh.

"It's a flying dragon!"

"What a terrifying aura!"

"Oh my god…there really is a dragon…"

"…"

Orion looked up at the flying bone dragon, his pupils contracting to the size of pinpricks.

Not only was it a flying dragon—it was a Legendary level dragon.

Furthermore, it was an undead dragon that wielded ice-based transcendent power as well as the energy of undeath.

And that dragon was merely Arthas's mount.

In other words, counting that bone dragon, Arthas arrived this time with three Legendary level powerhouses.

"That bone dragon has accompanied my Master for ages. It's at the peak of Legendary level!" Rumbold likewise gazed upward. The bone dragon's appearance signaled Arthas's departure. Rumbold's tone, tinged with pride and honor, made others envious of such a dramatic sight.

Roar!

After circling the sky once, the bone dragon gradually flew off into the distance. The poor Thunderhawk Rayden had been so frightened by the dragon's high-pressure aura that he plummeted straight out of the air.

A moment later, Xalathar, the Abyssal dragon beneath Orion, finally let out a low rumble as if to remind Orion of its presence.

"Feeling smothered by that dragon's pressure?"

"Then train well—eat more, grow stronger!"

Orion patted the Abyssal dragon, calming the creature that seemed newly fired up, then turned to Three-Tails.

"Lead the way!"

Three-Tails nodded, took its wolf pack, and turned toward the eastern region.

"That showy bastard…such a damn poser… Wait, let's be accurate: that skeleton's definitely not a man, so he's just a showy bag of bones!"

Outside the temporary tent, Leonidas grumbled under his breath as he watched Arthas fly away.

…

Seven days later, in the eastern region.

"Lord, there's an Alpha-level Goblin territory up ahead. They have a population of two hundred thousand!"

In a dark forest, Three-Tails came to Orion's side and reported the intel on that Goblin outpost.

Black-blooded Goblins are a race in this godforsaken land. Their blood runs black, and they possess a dark, treacherous nature.

Exiled by curses, ravaged by the environment, and tainted through their bloodline, black-blooded Goblins have dark skin to match. Their trademark features are their red eyes and short stature. Only their pair of elf-like ears suggests a possible blood connection to Night Elves.

"Lord, these black-blooded Goblins are unbelievably filthy."

"People call them 'the fallen elves.' They're considered monsters among elves and aren't acknowledged by the Night Elves."

"Black-blooded Goblins are cowardly yet greedy, base and evil, known all across the continent as con artists!"

Orion glanced down at Three-Tails, whose eyes shone with hatred and anger. He wondered why Three-Tails harbored such animosity toward black-blooded Goblins.

"Maybe, while gathering intel for Leonidas, Three-Tails had some interesting encounters with these black-blooded Goblins."

Orion kept his thoughts to himself. Three-Tails's attempt to influence him didn't stir any particular reaction in him.

"A black-blooded Goblin only at Alpha-level?"

"Wipe them out."
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Orion turned to the silent Rumbold.

Rumbold gave a slow nod, then swung his weapon. In response, the Skeleton Warriors hidden behind the forest raised their weapons in unison.

Seeing this, Orion spoke to Thundar at his side. "Pass the order: the little spiders get to feast now!"

…

Fallen City. This was the territory of the Alpha-level Goblin named Blightmire.

At this moment, Blightmire was asleep in a crude underground palace. Lying next to him were more than a dozen naked Night Elves and female Goblins.

Suddenly, a Goblin patrol in simple iron armor burst into Blightmire's chamber.

"Chieftain, bad news!"

Blightmire had just had sex with one of the female Goblins and was now extremely exhausted. He'd barely closed his eyes for a dozen seconds before this Goblin guard stormed in, ruining his blissful rest.

"You worthless runt, if you don't have a damn good reason for this intrusion, I'll seize everything you own and throw you into the deepest pit to mine for the rest of your pathetic life."

"Runt" is how other races typically insult and belittle Goblins. Ironically, Goblins also use this term among themselves to mock and ridicule one another.

"Chieftain, it's really bad!"

"We found intruders in the forest outside Fallen City. They triggered all the traps we set!"

Blightmire's eyes flew open. Stepping on a Night Elf's body for leverage, he sprang up.

"What did you say?"

"Did those bitch Night Elves not learn their lesson last time?"

The Goblin guard stared at the completely nude Night Elves sprawled on the bed, swallowing hard and refusing to look away.

"Chieftain, this time the intruders aren't those bitch Night Elves. They're some kind of spiders we've never seen before."

"Spiders?"

"Yes, spiders of a kind we've never encountered. They're huge."

"Huge, so you're telling me they're beasts?"

"Yes!"

"Beasts…beasts…holy shit…I want their meat!"

Muttering about his craving for flesh, black-blooded Goblin Blightmire threw on his armor and climbed out of the underground palace.

Within the forest, all was eerily silent.

"Dusk has arrived. Begin the assault!"

Chitter…rustle…

Sounds of cave spiders crawling echoed through the air, branches and undergrowth snapping beneath their weight. The tense atmosphere pressed heavily with every skittering sound.

Meanwhile, one hundred thousand Skeleton Warriors marched from the forest with synchronized steps, their movement increasingly thunderous.

"Prophet, Thundar, you two take the lead, serve as the vanguard!"

Orion's voice rang out as Onyx and Thundar summoned their mounts and charged ahead.

On the walls of Fallen City.

Goblin Blightmire was dumbstruck. From a distance, an unending horde of cave spiders advanced like a tidal wave—impossible to count as they swarmed in.

Leading that spider onslaught, Blightmire could sense four auras even more powerful than his own.

They belonged to Thundar and Onyx, who were each riding a Dark Fiend and a Dark Armored Beetle. Overwhelmed with terror, Blightmire trembled uncontrollably. He wanted to flee, but his body refused to move.

"Oh my god. Is this the day the Perpetual Night Continent gets wiped off the map?"

War is cruel—blood flooding the streets, walls crumbling, everything consumed by ruin.

Every black-blooded Goblin and Night Elf who dwelled in Fallen City was slaughtered; none survived.

"Orion, now's not the time for the cannon fodder to feast."

As Skeleton General Rumbold followed Orion onto Fallen City's walls, he looked down at the spiders devouring corpses below and spoke up.

Orion merely nodded without asking why. He beckoned to Earthshaker and had him relay the order to halt the feeding.

Moments later, all the small spiders stopped eating.

"Orion, now it's my turn to shine!"

Skeleton General Rumbold raised his weapon, chanting incantations in a mounting crescendo.

Simultaneously, one hundred thousand Skeleton Warriors who hadn't fought earlier raised their weapons, chanting along with Rumbold.

In just a single minute, a ghostly green, spherical magic array shrouded all of Fallen City.

Then came a chilling scene: the slain black-blooded Goblins and Night Elves began rising to their feet once more.

These reanimated black-blooded Goblins and Night Elves looked nearly the same as they had in life, except their eyes were dull and their bodies emanated a dense aura of death.

The bloodline warriors from the Stoneheart Horde, witnessing this bizarre spectacle, stood frozen, gaping in disbelief.

Orion had somewhat expected to see undead risen from corpses, yet the actual sight still made him want to exclaim, "Holy shit."

Rumbold's ability to command the bodies of the dead meant that Orion's spiders could suffer considerably fewer losses, keeping more of them alive.

In fact, neither Leonidas nor Arthas ever intended Orion's forces to be the main ones.

Both had gone through similar experiences themselves and knew Orion, having only recently advanced to Legendary level, lacked a profound foundation.

The two hundred thousand undead skeletons led by Skeleton General Rumbold were the true main force, the gateway to sweeping through the godforsaken land.

Placing Orion in charge of clearing the eastern region was merely a trial run of his command skills.

What truly tested Orion's personal prowess would be the three Legendary level existences inhabiting the east.

"Fallen City…ha, this pathetic excuse for architecture has no magical energy flow or population movement. They actually dare call it a city?"

"Lord Orion, what do you think?"

Skeleton General Rumbold turned his gaze on Orion with a cryptic smirk. His dark eyes gleamed as if he were watching a performance.

"A territory ruled by a mere Alpha-level Goblin is hardly worthy of being called a city."

Orion stared at the undead creatures within Fallen City, pensive.

Rumbold had shown off just now, but he was also probing.

To Rumbold, anyone capable of allying with his Master, Arthas, must have some unique ability.

Orion's response, however, revealed nothing; he merely followed Rumbold's lead.

Yet Orion astutely picked up on that mention of "population flow."

"Does that mean Arthas's territory has outsiders traveling through it?

"Is that because of Alexander from the Champions Alliance?

"Or something else?"

For a moment, Orion's thoughts drifted.

"Lord Orion, should we move on immediately or rest here?"

Rumbold's question made Orion frown.

Only then did Orion recall that undead skeletons and newly summoned undead creatures require no rest.

But since forty thousand small spiders had crawled all this way and just participated in the assault, they were undoubtedly exhausted.

"The army's tired. We'll rest for a day."

"All right, if that's your call."

Orion gave a nod. He suddenly realized that compared to Arthas's undead troops, most races' bloodline warriors would struggle to gain any advantage—especially in a protracted battle. Fighting the undead in a war of attrition was basically suicide.

"However, Lord Orion, there's something I need to warn you about."

Orion looked to Rumbold without speaking, signaling him to continue.

"Lord Orion, it's quite possible this place is already part of some ruler's domain. We may well have been detected."

"If we slow down, the upcoming battles might become even tougher."

Rumbold wasn't wrong; that possibility was very real.

Although Rumbold could raise the dead, those ghoulish pawns were purely cannon fodder with poor agility and mobility.

If the next settlements were ready for them, clearing the eastern region would become significantly more difficult.

Orion felt a twinge of annoyance, suspecting Rumbold was intentionally complicating matters, yet he had no proof.

Besides, Rumbold's words made logical sense, leaving no grounds for rebuttal.

"Lord, we captured that Alpha-level Goblin alive—how should we handle him?"

Just then, Thundar arrived on his Dark Fiend and dumped the tiny Goblin Blightmire at Orion's feet.

Blightmire now had both Achilles' tendons severed and couldn't even crawl.

Seeing this Goblin, Orion felt a headache coming on.

He sensed no signs of crystal cores or dark source crystals in Blightmire.

He was still indecisive when Rumbold spoke up to clarify.

"Lord Orion, the godforsaken land is a forsaken world. All races who dwell here are cursed.

They can't produce any more world essence in their bodies. The only thing of value on them is their black blood, tainted by curses.

As an Alpha-level Goblin, his black blood is truly deadly poison—excellent for forging hidden weapons and for alchemy!"

Orion waved a hand in a slicing gesture toward Thundar, indicating Blightmire should be taken away and bled.

"Noble Lord, in my underground palace, I've hidden some big-breasted, big-assed Night Elves. I can round them up and present them to you as sex slaves.

If you like female Goblins, Blightmire can help find those too.

Lord, Goblin Blightmire surrenders—he swears to be your most loyal servant and provide you with all the intel in this region!"

At the mention of intel, Orion told Thundar to hold off.

"Blightmire, spit out any useful information. I might spare your life if I'm in a good mood. And remember—this isn't a negotiation. You don't get to bargain."

Relieved he wasn't about to die immediately, Blightmire clung to this thread of hope like a drowning man to driftwood. He began spilling whatever important details he could recall.

"Respected Lord, southeast of Fallen City's outskirts lies the domain of a Legendary level Goblin named Murktooth.

Murktooth is also a Goblin King. He has five Alpha-level Goblins under him, four hundred and forty thousand troops, and countless slaves!

Please, my Lord, I'm willing to take up arms and fight for you!"