Titan King: Ascension of the Giant-Chapter 776: Calamity and Opportunity

"A demigod’s will-projection," the Deputy Commander breathed, his voice tight. "So, it was there after all."

He snorted, a sharp, cold sound. For a moment, he prepared to release the echo of his own demigod-will, to locally shatter the Wind Ward and intervene.

But then he paused.

His ancient eyes narrowed, focusing intently on Orion and the faint, shadowy form that clung to his back. In the end, he did nothing. He held the Wind Ward steady, but his full attention was now a burning lens fixed upon Orion.

Inside the ward, the battle for Orion’s body raged on.

To be imprisoned within your own flesh is a torment beyond words. Helplessness, frustration, a suffocating powerlessness—a tide of negative emotions washed over him, threatening to erode the bedrock of his will. His muscles, locked in a single pose for what felt like an eternity, began to cramp and burn.

The silent, screaming rage, with no outlet and no release, poisoned his mind and seeped into his very soul. It was agony.

And yet, just as he felt he might break, a new power stirred within him. The Curse of a Hundred Blossoms, the dormant brand upon his chest, sensed an opportunity. Perhaps it was the presence of a rival predator, or perhaps it simply saw its chance to finally claim the vessel it coveted.

It bloomed into being, a third combatant entering the war for his soul.

"Eh? What is this?" the invading will hissed inside his mind. "This essence... it is... divine power! Why do you carry the power of a god?"

A moment of confusion, then realization.

"No... this divine power is weak, a mere remnant. Hahahaha! To think such pure divinity was hidden within you! What a feast! What a glorious supplement for my own power! Fate smiles upon me! You, and this divine echo, are both MINE!"

The demigod’s will, which had been focused on consuming Orion’s consciousness, turned with ravenous glee to attack the power of the Flower Goddess. For the first time in minutes, the pressure on Orion’s own mind lessened.

He took a metaphorical breath of relief. While he had been waiting for the Deputy Commander’s aid, a part of him had been hoping for this very thing. As predicted, when faced with a threat, the dormant curse had been roused to action.

And so, a silent, desperate war raged within him.

Three forces—the divine power of the curse, the will of the demigod, and Orion’s own consciousness—crashed against each other like phantom torrents. Orion’s will was, by far, the weakest of the three. It was a battle fought with no sound, yet fraught with more peril than any physical conflict.

The Deputy Commander watched, his expression grim. It was impossible not to worry. But still, he did not intervene.

In the third pocket of the Wind Ward, the world had been plunged into shadow. It was a churning vortex of darkness, a dreamscape where the air thrummed with the essence of death, decay, and slaughter.

For a time, there was only the sound of the black whirlwind, consuming all light and motion.

Then, a flicker of steel gleamed within the storm. Claws of solidified shadow lashed out, trying to tear the darkness asunder.

A low, pained, resentful roar echoed from the heart of the maelstrom, and then, silence.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound of liquid striking the ground broke the quiet. It shattered not only the silence, but the shadow-dream itself. The darkness receded. The shadows bled away.

Alexander appeared, standing alone in the wind ward. In one hand, he held a dagger that dripped fresh blood. With the other, he dragged the corpse of the Shadow Banshee, Selinda. Her robes were shredded, her body a canvas of deep, mortal wounds. The form that had once been a vision of deadly grace was now a broken, ruined thing. Alexander gave it no heed.

"Hm? The battle is over?" he murmured, his gaze immediately shifting to Orion’s section of the ward. He saw Orion standing perfectly still and let out a soft sound of surprise.

"Hulk drew the short straw," the Deputy Commander’s voice explained in his mind. "The will-projection was on his target. I don’t know what constitution the boy has, to be such a magnet for those who would seize another’s body."

"He killed his target before I killed mine?" Alexander asked, a note of disbelief in his tone.

"Yes. Faster than you. Faster than Leonidas or the boy wonder, too."

Alexander fell silent. The implication was clear. In a contest of equals, at this same stage of power, they might not have been Orion’s match.

"This one," Edward continued, his voice heavy with significance, "is very likely on the same path of peerless dominion as the Commander."

This was the highest praise, and the greatest hope for the Champions Alliance. They had not recruited Orion simply because he had reached the Legendary tier.

There were many Legends on the Survivor’s Platform. Few were ever invited. From the beginning, it had been Orion’s ability to fight and win against foes far beyond his rank that they had coveted. If he could maintain that ability all the way to Archlord, or even demigod... he would be their most successful investment.

"Will he succeed?" Alexander asked, his voice now devoid of its usual chill.

"The possibility is high. If he survives this, he will be able to ascend to the rank of Archlord ahead of his time."

That was it. This was Orion’s great trial. His calamity, and his opportunity.

The curse of the Flower Goddess, the will of the demigod—at their core, they were both manifestations of faith-based power. If the battle between them could draw out more of the Flower Goddess’s energy, and if Orion could then use the technique the Commander had devised long ago to sever the conscious wills from that power... then a vast sea of pure, untethered faith energy would remain within him. It would be the fuel and the foundation for his ascension to Archlord. freewebnøvel_com

This was what the Deputy Commander had been considering. This was why he had stayed his hand.

This high-risk, high-reward gambit was a path that Arthas, Alexander, and Leonidas had all walked before, more than once. It was why they faced demigods not with the fear of a mouse before a cat, but with the challenging spirit of a true rival.

"His growth is too fast," Alexander said, a hint of envy in his voice. "It took Leonidas centuries to become an Archlord. How many years has it been for him?"

"Such things are a double-edged sword," Edward’s voice replied, old and wise. "Rapid growth means less time for experience to settle. His foundations will be shallow. The faction he builds will be green and untested."

"He will have time enough to build his foundations once he is an Archlord," Alexander countered. "It is better than being stuck at the peak of the Legendary tier. The rank is different. The perspective, the very world, is different."

Alexander’s voice was no longer cold. He looked at Orion, his gaze filled with a profound and fervent hope.

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