Titan King: Ascension of the Giant-Chapter 785: Become the Chaos

The great serpent stared at Orion, and on its massive head, an expression of smug satisfaction formed. The eyes are the windows to the soul, and in Orion’s gaze, the serpent saw something it knew well. It saw greed.

"I will submit," Orion said.

"Hahahaha... a wise choice!" the serpent boomed in triumph. "Then let us seal our pact!"

This upstart little Lord, this third party in its ancient war, had been won over by the simple promise of power.

At that moment, the light flared. Merrick’s divine power pressed down on the serpent with furious intensity as he seized the upper hand.

"Young friend, you cannot!" his voice pleaded in Orion’s mind. "For the sake of the countless souls of the Emerald Dream Realm, you cannot agree to this!"

Orion merely shrugged, his eyes narrowed at the blazing silhouette of the demigod. "My apologies," he said aloud, his voice cold. "The fate of those countless souls is no concern of mine. And I am no native of this realm. I am here to claim my piece of the spoils, just like everyone else."

Hearing this, Merrick seemed to reel, but before he could speak again, the serpent’s wicked essence surged back, driving the light away.

"You are impressive, for a lowly creature," the serpent hissed, its voice dripping with self-satisfaction. "In this world, self-interest is the only law that matters. That old fool tries to win you with morality, yet offers nothing of value. Pathetic."

It had conquered another heart—a giant’s heart—with the simple lure of profit. It had ensnared a future Archlord.

"Now, the contract. You will not receive the rite until the pact is sealed."

The serpent opened its maw and spat out a scroll of roiling black mist, covered in an arcane script that writhed with unequal terms.

"I will not sign," Orion said, shaking his head, "until the rite is written into the terms."

He stared at the ethereal contract, a new understanding of the power of demigods dawning on him.

"Heh heh. A cautious little fellow, aren’t you?" the serpent hissed. "Very well. As you wish."

It opened its mouth again, and another glob of black mist merged with the scroll. Orion focused his gaze and could now make out the first half of the promised technique.

"Sign it," the serpent’s voice turned cold, its time for pleasantries over.

As Orion reached for the scroll, the two voices began their final assault, a demonic chorus swirling around his ears.

"Young friend, you mustn’t sign!"

"Sign it now!"

Orion let a surge of his own transcendent power rise, shielding his mind from their words. His decision was already made. He plunged his hand into the swirling black mist. There was a sharp, biting sensation, and the pact was sealed.

At the same instant, the full knowledge of the ascension rite flooded his mind. The Rite of the Serpent Trinity. Its final form, he saw with a detached coldness, was a three-headed fiend serpent.

"Hahahaha... old man! This battle has dragged on for centuries, but in the end, it is I who wins!" the serpent’s laughter was a storm of triumphant madness. "Excellent, Orion! I will now focus my power on suppressing this fool. You will stay here and begin your ascension."

"The Spring of Life possesses endless vitality; it will nourish your body and repair any damage you sustain during the fusion of faith. Once you have risen, once you have forged your body of faith, we will slaughter this old man together! Hahahaha..."

Its voice faded into the background. Believing its new vassal was now bound and committed, the serpent turned its full attention inward, and the otherworldly sanctum fell silent.

Orion’s eyes glittered. After a moment of consideration, he stepped into the pool of the Spring of Life, settled himself on the bottom, and fell into a deep meditation. It was time.

He had been to his Sea of Faith before, when he first ascended to the Legendary tier. To call it a sea was a misnomer. It was a personal cosmos, a void where every point of faith he had gathered was a single, shimmering star, orbiting the nexus of his will.

The Deputy Commander had warned him: the fusion of will and faith was a tempering, a process fraught with challenge and peril. Here, in this inner world, the stars were his faith, and he himself was his will.

He reached out, trying to draw the nearest stars of faith into the vessel of his consciousness. They came willingly, settling on his spiritual hands, his shoulders, his face.

The next moment, his features contorted in a mask of pure agony.

Each star that merged with him was like a miniature sun exploding within his soul. It was a pain beyond description, a forced fusion of fire and water, two warring opposites tearing each other apart inside him. And in that crucible of torment, his will and his faith were being hammered into something new.

The pain did not lead to numbness. It led to a silent, soul-tearing scream. It birthed despair, a chorus of inner voices begging him to stop, to repent, to abandon the ascent. Every negative emotion, every lustful impulse, every raging fear and shred of hypocrisy rose up to meet him. For every star he absorbed, a phantom of himself materialized to plead with him to surrender.

"I cannot give up!"

"I have endless potential! I can do this!"

"The pain is an illusion! The phantoms are nothing!"

"I WILL BECOME AN ARCHLORD!"

He fed himself these mantras of resolve, desperate affirmations against the overwhelming agony. But soon, the affirmations were not enough. They became hollow words in the face of such profound torment. And so, as his mind began to fracture, his deepest, most primal instinct took over.

He would not endure the pain. He would destroy it.

"I will kill you all!"

"I will slaughter everything that stands in my way!"

"Kill... KILL!"

The pain in his mind and will was driving him to madness. His conscious self-recrimination fell away, replaced by a warrior’s single-minded purpose. To stop the pain, he would kill the source of the pain. To master the chaos, he would become the chaos. This was his path, chosen not by thought, but by instinct.

In the mindscape, the stars of faith transformed. They became a legion of every horrifying monster he had ever faced—giants, ogres, dragons, sirens... a resurrected army of his own past battles.

And so, he began to kill.

And kill.

And kill.

He fought until the heavens of his mind grew old, until the last enemy fell, until nothing else was left standing before him.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freew𝒆bnov𝒆l.c(o)m