Titan King: Ascension of the Giant-Chapter 423: Orion’s invitation

Seeing Steelblade gradually recover, Orion shifted his gaze back to the square.

"Lord, that orc youngling has gone berserk. Are we really letting them continue the fight?"

Dace approached Orion and quietly offered his warning.

"Why wouldn’t we?"

In truth, Orion was a little pleased—Zargoth’s talent was quite impressive. Even after going berserk, this kid had remained rational, which wasn’t an easy feat.

Orion’s reply instantly snuffed out Dace’s notion of halting the duel.

"Steelblade, lift your head. Watch Rolan’s fight. Look closely at your opponent."

"Think about it. Why did you lose?"

"Your sister—your father—both of them are warriors on the battlefield."

"Do you want to become a coward who can’t face failures or mistakes?"

Orion spoke calmly, but the words reached Steelblade’s ears like a bolt from the blue, shaking the youngling out of his disheartened state.

"No… I want to be a giant as powerful as my father and sister. I’m no coward!"

Suddenly, Steelblade raised his head, eyes locked on Rolan and Zargoth in the square.

Orion nodded in satisfaction; though Steelblade had lost, his morale remained unharmed.

———

In the square, Rolan gripped his trident, watching Zargoth closely.

With a thunderous roar, Zargoth brandished his greatsword and attacked first, charging forward.

Just as Zargoth neared Rolan’s striking range, Rolan pivoted sideways, taking a big step with his right foot and stabbing his trident directly at Zargoth’s waist.

Although Zargoth’s slash came swiftly, Rolan’s dodge was equally sudden.

Splurt!

The trident pierced Zargoth’s waist, tearing through his leather hide and drawing a bright surge of blood. But in his berserk state, pain only doubled Zargoth’s fury, fueling his fighting spirit further.

He let out an enraged howl, gritting his teeth and swinging his sword in a vigorous spin aimed at Rolan.

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Facing that fearsome blow, Rolan didn’t dare block it head-on. He darted hastily backward in retreat.

With a thud, the spot where Rolan had just stood was gouged out by the descending greatsword, forming a gaping pit.

Despite the sword missing its mark, Zargoth’s offensive didn’t end. He stepped forward, pushing off with his leg and leveraging the sword’s momentum for another charge at Rolan.

Retreating, Rolan saw Zargoth barreling toward him. Instead of dodging again, he suddenly flared up with ferocity in his eyes and counterattacked.

Splurt!

Crunch!

Both Rolan and Zargoth stopped dead in their tracks. In that instant of mutual onslaught, the battle was decided.

The next second, Zargoth’s greatsword clattered to the ground, and he fell heavily after it. The duel had ended so swiftly that the onlookers barely had time to react.

Rolan sank the butt of his trident into the ground in front of him, propping himself against it while gasping for breath. Truth be told, it was his first time experiencing true fear of death.

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That feeling sent chills through him—yet it made his blood surge with excitement.

"Grulbane, go take a look!"

Orion’s voice brought everyone back to their senses. Grulbane rushed to the square, releasing twin arcs of blood-colored magic from his hands onto Rolan and Zargoth.

Moments earlier, Rolan’s trident had run Zargoth through the heart, yet Zargoth’s greatsword had also slashed deep into Rolan’s shoulder—nearly severing it.

With a flow of potent blood-based magic surging through them, each young fighter’s wounded body drew in the energies of its own bloodline, knitting together the damage.

Only after Grulbane had spent a little time healing both youths did the rest of the Bloodmoon Clan realize what had happened and rush out onto the square.

Moments later, several orcs poured in.

"My lord, they—"

The Bloodmoon Clan’s chieftain sounded both anxious and frightened, deeply worried about Zargoth’s safety. Of course, he was just as concerned about Rolan—afraid Orion might take out his anger on the Bloodmoon Clan if Rolan suffered a serious injury.

"They’ll be all right. Both of them were wounded badly, but Grulbane got to them in time. Their lives aren’t in danger."

Hearing this, the chieftain immediately crouched low, kneeling before Orion.

"My lord, your mercy is as boundless as your territory itself."

"We of the Bloodmoon Clan shall follow your radiance forever!"

Orion cast a look at the elderly chieftain, knowing full well the old Orc liked flattery and grand gestures. Orion therefore had little interest in engaging.

After a moment, Grulbane finished up. He and an elderly Orc carried Rolan and Zargoth before Orion.

Orion gazed upon the drained and weary Zargoth, a faint hint of admiration in his expression.

"Zargoth defeated Steelblade, so the Bloodmoon Clan is exempt from three years of tribute."

Upon hearing this pronouncement, the chieftain dropped to his knees again. The surrounding Orcs also sank down in succession.

"Zargoth may have fallen to Rolan, but his valor remains. He fought well."

"Zargoth, you have real talent. If you’re willing, come to Stoneheart City and join the youth camp under the Stoneheart Horde."

With those words, Orion tossed a beast fang that landed in Zargoth’s hand. It was Orion’s invitation. The young Orc’s fearless fury had impressed him.

But Zargoth and the chieftain of the Bloodmoon Clan had no idea of the benefits the youth camp offered. They froze in place, not knowing what to say.

"Chieftain, why are you standing there? Hurry and thank the lord for his generosity. Only the finest younglings of each tribe(clan) get to attend the Stoneheart Horde youth camp."

"At the youth camp, there are Alpha-level mentors offering hands-on guidance, as well as advanced martial disciplines available for study. The Horde also provides high-tier magical plants to strengthen the body."

"All of it is free!"

Dace reminded the chieftain, who was both delighted and eager to shower Orion with praises.

"My lord, your generosity—"

Before the chieftain could finish, Orion had already risen and was leading the way out of the valley.

———

Human Kingdom, Soaring Bird City.

"Viscount, please rest assured. The princess is the jewel of our Human Kingdom. Seeing her safely back truly involves the honor of our nobles. I will do my utmost."

Outside his makeshift tent, Torin was seeing off the knight Lambert, who had come visiting.

Once Lambert entered the temporary encampment to rest, Torin narrowed his eyes and stepped inside the tent.

Mike and Wyatt followed him inside.

"Master, that knight in white armor—he’s also a noble?"

"Yes, he’s a viscount in the Southern Region."

"So he has his own territory?"

"No. However, his father is an earl with a fief under his control."

Mike and Wyatt exchanged a knowing glance. That explained exactly why Torin had treated Lambert with such politeness.