Titan King: Ascension of the Giant-Chapter 253 Miracle

Orion did not pause. Next came a buffalo horn.

This was the tribal relic of the Buffalofolk. Orion had kept it ever since he killed Buffalofolk Torak Wildhorn. To be precise, it was called the Ancestor's Horn, a sacred relic of the Buffalofolk. Without a moment's hesitation, Orion placed the Ancestor's Horn on the territory core. Enjoy more content from novelbuddy

Crack, crack, crack!

Within the span of a single breath, the horn shattered completely. A furious buffalo phantom let out one final bellow before it, too, was absorbed by the territory core.

The third item was a whip.

This whip was the tribal relic of the Succubus race, which Orion had asked Delilah to hand over. Made from the tail of a high-ranking demon, it lasted fewer than five seconds before it disintegrated into ash, merging into the territory core.

The final item was the black crystal that Onyx had just presented.

It was the inherited tribal relic of the Obsidian Golems, imbued with a substantial amount of faith energy.

Crash!

Not only did this black crystal break—it turned completely gray. Orion exhaled, and with a breeze, the crystal powder scattered across the ground.

"And now," he murmured, "my true territory will descend."

Taking a deep breath, Orion closed his eyes. As soon as he did, the territory core on the altar began to radiate a brilliant, mysterious glow.

Inside the Horde Hall, Onyx stood outside the inner fortress like a statue, stone axe in hand, his expression as calm as ever.

Beyond the gates, a swarm of bloodline warriors continued working.

Previously, they had pushed aside two mountain slopes beside the Moonshadow Valley's walls. After using the resulting stones to build the Horde Hall, a huge amount of leftover rock had been piled in Moonshadow Valley. Even after using it for the Heroic Altar, the Military Fortress, and the Beast Pens, there was still plenty left for the outer city walls.

Right when everyone was busy, a sudden gust whipped through Blackstone City. Invisible, intangible, gone as quickly as it came—but everyone felt it. The wind expanded outward like a hurricane from the center of Blackstone City, surging across every direction at an unimaginable speed.

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Soon, that gust swept through the entire Black Forest, then Poison Dragon Swamp, and then continued southward all the way to Half-Moon Lake.

In Poison Dragon Swamp, the wind brushed right past Rendall, tangling his beard. Rendall sensed a familiar presence, though he was certain Orion was nowhere nearby.

"That's strange," he muttered. "Must be my imagination."

He crushed a centaur's head with one stomp, then lifted his head and yelled, "Move out, you brats! We're patrolling along the swamp!"

"Remember—don't cross it. That's another lord's territory!"

…

Farther south, at Half-Moon Lake.

Lysinthia stood atop the Twilight Viper, wearing nothing but a skimpy bone armor. She was simultaneously seductive and dangerous. Her black hair streamed behind her, and two small serpents coiled into circles dangled from her ears, spinning in the wind and giving her presence an exotic flair.

Suddenly, Lysinthia raised her head, her eyes clouded with confusion. She could've sworn she sensed Master Orion's aura a second ago. Yet, with the blink of an eye, it vanished. Her brow furrowed, and her gaze grew darker.

"Surrender seventy percent of your resources and swear fealty to our lord, and you will be spared!" she declared.

Standing on the Twilight Viper's crest, Lysinthia released the full might of her Alpha-level aura, crushing the row of trembling creatures prostrate before her. Meanwhile, the hundreds of Gorgons behind Lysinthia lifted their crossbows in unison, aiming at the crowd with lethal intent.

Fireraven, Thunderstorm Bearmen, Gnolls, Satyrs, Geckos… countless races begged for mercy, many opting to submit. More than a dozen different races had settled around Half-Moon Lake, and the arrival of Lysinthia, Thundar, Slagor, and Twilight Viper had stirred them into chaos.

Yet Lysinthia, Thundar, and Slagor were not lovers of wanton killing. Those who agreed to serve and pay tribute were allowed to live by Half-Moon Lake. Those who refused… had already returned to their maker.

The captives now kneeling were the latest rebels to be seized.

…

Back at Blackstone City, within the Forbidden Zone of the Horde Hall.

Orion slowly opened his eyes. In that brief moment, he had transformed into a gust of wind that roamed across his entire territory—or more precisely, a boundary line.

Guided by Orion's will, powered by transcendent energy, and anchored by the places that nurtured faith in him, the territory core unleashed its boundary for the first time and defined the limits of Orion's domain.

"The supernatural world… a land of wonders, a might beyond imagining!"

This epiphany sparked a smile on Orion's face. He closed his eyes once more.

Immediately, the entire Horde Hall began to change. Centered on the territory core atop the forbidden altar, a subtle and invisible force spread out, transforming the Hall itself.

The very first to sense this was Onyx, standing guard outside the inner fortress. Before his eyes, the bluish-black walls of the Horde Hall turned vivid red at a speed visible to the naked eye. It was as though blood were overflowing from the inner fortress and staining the entire complex.

Nor was that the only change. In Onyx's perception, the buildings made of giant stones were melding together more tightly. The clearest evidence was right under his feet, on the stone slabs that made up the plaza.

Initially, they had been pieced together, with some gaps still visible between them. Though special mortar was used, small separations remained. But after the blood-red hue spread across them, the slabs fused seamlessly into one continuous slab, leaving no trace of a gap.

"This… is this the supernatural power?" Onyx murmured. "This is practically a miracle!"

Though Orion had warned him beforehand, Onyx still found it overwhelmingly shocking to witness such a miracle firsthand. And it wasn't over yet.

As that blood-red color continued to spread, the walls and towers of the Horde Hall each underwent subtle changes.

For instance, the battlements on the walls grew smoother underfoot, and the battlements themselves bulged outward slightly for better defense. The towers rose a bit taller, grew reinforced spikes at their corners, and took on a rounder shape.

Outside the Horde Hall, the tribespeople at work could only stare wide-eyed at the castle's ever-shifting contours, rendered speechless by the spectacle unfolding before them.