The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 1133 - 173 - The Titan Kingdom’s Future (4)
The King finally woke up.
It had been nearly two full months since he had fallen into what everyone had come to call an eternal sleep—a state so deep and unresponsive that even hope itself had started to feel pointless. And now, after all that time suspended between life and death, this was the first moment he opened his eyes again, the first time light reached him after all those silent days.
"Ah..."
Layla’s voice trembled, and she couldn’t hide the joy flooding her expression. Not that she tried to. No one could have blamed her for it.
She had already given up once. Slowly, painfully, she had accepted the idea that her father would never wake again. The healers had shaken their heads, the priests had whispered prayers that sounded more like farewells, and every passing day had chipped away at what little hope remained. She had begun preparing herself for the worst, steeling her heart for a future without him.
And now, all of that vanished in an instant.
The moment she saw her father’s eyes open, the fear, the grief, the sleepless nights—all of it collapsed like it had never existed.
"Layla?"
The King’s voice was low and rough, thick with confusion. It wasn’t weakness—it was disorientation. And that was only natural.
Anyone would be confused. One moment, you go to sleep like any other day, unaware that anything is wrong. The next thing you know, you wake up months later, your body heavy, your senses dull, the world subtly different. Time had moved on without him, and he had no memory of it.
"I’m really glad you’re here and awake, Father," Layla said, her voice breaking despite her best effort to keep it steady.
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. It wasn’t a polite embrace or a restrained one—it was desperate, emotional, filled with everything she had been holding back for months. Her shoulders trembled as she held him, as if she were afraid he might disappear again if she let go.
It was a touching reunion. A genuine one.
Watching them stirred a memory in me—Selene and Zeruel reuniting with Juna after she had been asleep for an entire year. That moment had been heavy with emotion too. Relief, disbelief, joy, and lingering fear all tangled together in a way words could barely capture. This felt just like that. Different faces, different circumstances, but the same raw feeling.
Then the King’s gaze shifted.
Only then did he notice me.
His eyes moved slowly, taking in the room, before finally settling on my presence. It made sense that he hadn’t noticed me at first. Compared to him, I might as well have been invisible. To a Titan King, I was no more than a speck of dust standing at the edge of his awareness. And considering he had woken up with Layla hovering over him, clearly distressed and emotional, it was only natural that I hadn’t been his focus.
"Humans?" he said, his tone neutral but sharp enough to cut through the air.
"Ah—F-Father," Layla said quickly, pulling back just enough to look at him. "I know I acted on my own."
She hesitated for a brief moment, choosing her words carefully.
"But given the state of everything, I thought it would be best to ask for their help."
The King didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked at Layla, really looked at her, as if gauging her resolve, her exhaustion, and the weight she had been carrying in his absence. Then his gaze shifted downward, toward his own body, likely sensing the lingering effects of whatever had been done to him.
"I see," he said at last. "Now I understand the situation."
His voice was calm, steady, and thoughtful.
"You acted on your own for the sake of the people," he continued. "I don’t blame you at all."
It was clear he already understood more than he was saying. He didn’t need a full explanation to piece things together. Something had happened to him, and because of that, something had happened to the Titan Kingdom. Layla hadn’t acted out of rebellion or recklessness—she had acted out of necessity.
"And so," the King said, turning his attention back to me, "what do you want as repayment, Human?"
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
"No... you aren’t human, are you?"
There was no shock in his voice. Just curiosity.
Honestly, I couldn’t even answer that question myself with complete confidence. I knew I was something like an offspring of Lilith—something born from her influence, her power, and her existence. That alone disqualified me from being normal by any reasonable standard.
"I don’t really want any repayment," I said plainly.
"Oh?" he replied.
"Aren’t you the Elven Breeder?" he continued. "The one attempting to unite all the countries and tribes of the Great Forest into a single nation?"
At this point, I barely reacted to the title. Being called the Elven Breeder had become routine enough that it didn’t bother me anymore.
"Well," I said, "it’s not like my main goal is to force unification."
I shrugged slightly.
"But it would be good if it happens. Honestly, it’s fine if you don’t consider it. Still, it would be highly appreciated if you joined."
I knew I was being vague. I wasn’t cornering him or making demands. And judging by the way his eyes studied me, he understood exactly what I was doing.
"You seem like someone who’s good at bargaining," the King said. "I’ve seen your kind before. You’re a snake. You slither into circles where you don’t quite belong, always searching for something to gain."
The words weren’t an insult. Not really. They were an observation.
He paused for a moment, then let out a faint smirk.
"But snakes like you are the most interesting kind," he added. "And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with trusting your judgment."
With a deep breath, he shifted and sat up from his bed. The bed itself was enormous—easily a hundred times larger than me—and even now, it groaned and creaked beneath his weight, the sound echoing through the chamber.
"You want my country to join this unification, correct?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered without hesitation. "If you permit it, I want your country to unite with the newly established nation."
The King chuckled quietly, a sound heavy with experience.
"You’re trying quite hard," he said. "While saving our people was commendable, I don’t think that alone is enough for me to immediately accept your proposal."
Then he stopped.
"But..."
He turned his head and looked directly at Layla.
"I don’t think I’m the one who should be deciding this."
Layla froze.
Her eyes widened, and confusion flickered across her face. It was obvious she hadn’t expected that—hadn’t even considered the possibility.
"Layla," the King said calmly, "what do you think?"
"Um..."
Layla hesitated, clearly unsure how to respond.
And honestly, so was I.
Even though he was the King, he was deliberately placing the decision in someone else’s hands. But as I watched the way he looked at his daughter, it became clear that this wasn’t uncertainty.
It was intention.
And whatever he was planning, Layla was at the center of it.
