Titan King: Ascension of the Giant-Chapter 366 This is the battle that decides everything

Three days later, the scene was breathtaking on a massive scale. War drums boomed, and countless beasts roared in unison.

The Northern Coalition launched a large-scale offensive. Banners snapped in the wind, soldiers marched in dense formations, darkening the sky as they advanced on the Blood Elves' City of Blessings. High above the battlefield, Orion, Jorik, Gareth, Ironhoof, Lokiviria, and Bluehide hovered in the air, gazing at the city walls.

City of Blessings had only two gates, to the north and south, because it rose against a colossal canyon. Cliffs flanked both sides, making it an extremely tough fortress to breach. At the highest point of those cliffs stood an imposing ancient tree of unknown origin.

"Are we really starting the siege right now?"

Orion stared at the grand City of Blessings, not entirely confident in the Coalition's plan for a direct assault. White Dragon Frostsire's temptation had been huge, and Gareth, Ironhoof, Lokiviria, and Bluehide had agreed to his request. So the Coalition had come together again, pushing aside any internal splits for the moment. But as soon as Orion sensed the presence of multiple Legendary-level Blood Elves, he felt his spirits sink.

Sure enough, two signatures as powerful as Elanor's now appeared on the city walls: that must be the Elven King and their Grand Elder(Arch Elder). Jorik said nothing; he felt those two unfamiliar auras too, and it weighed heavily on him.

"We're already at their doorstep—if we don't storm the gates, what else can we do?"

Aldous let out a gruff sigh. They were standing right in front of this enormous fortress, and they couldn't possibly rely on trickery to capture a place so well-defended.

"With the troops we have, splitting our forces is a bad call," Orion commented cautiously. "If we split up, there's a good chance we'll draw the Blood Elves out and get our positions cut apart. That's a big no-go in a siege."

His suggestion was a bit reserved, but Jorik and the others seemed to agree. They all knew the stakes were too high to try anything fancy.

"All right, let's get ready," Jorik said. "Let's begin!"

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Roar!

With Jorik's furious bellow, a draconic roar trembled through the air, and the battle commenced. Jorik and Gareth both assumed their dragon forms: one white, one black. Vast spheres of magic energy swirled in front of them and hurtled straight for the City of Blessings. They wanted to seize the momentum before their cannon fodder troops even reached the walls.

Boom! Boom!

High above the city, a pale blue barrier shimmered into existence, blocking the enormous blasts.

"It's a magical ward!" Jorik ground his teeth. "We have to hit it together and break that barrier, otherwise there's no way we break into the city."

Before he could finish, Frostsire's will projection suddenly manifested from within Jorik's body, rearing up overhead like a colossal white dragon.

"I'll tear this barrier down!"

Roar!

A deep, resonant dragon cry rippled through the skies, and snow and ice began pouring down from above. In an instant, giant shards of ice formed in the air, plummeting toward the City of Blessings.

Thud, thud, thud!

Icy spears slammed into the magical ward for a solid fifteen minutes. Then came a resounding crash as the barrier splintered. With a roar, the Northern Coalition charged.

"The moment of the final showdown is here!"

"Grand Elder! Elanor! The rest of them are yours!"

As the ward shattered, Elven King Anasterian drew his sacred sword, soared into the air, and flew directly at White Dragon Frostsire. While launching himself forward, chaotic magical energy swirled around him. A golden barrier appeared, enveloping both him and Frostsire's will projection.

That golden barrier was a containment measure. The king couldn't risk letting the white dragon run amok above the city—it would reduce the City of Blessings to rubble in no time. By separating Frostsire, Anasterian weakened the Northern Coalition's overall strength.

Of course, doing so was incredibly risky. He was intentionally cutting himself off from support. And if he lost, that golden barrier had a second function: it could trap Frostsire for a short time, buying the Blood Elves a window to retreat.

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Simultaneously, Grand Elder Lireesa, Elanor, Boarfolk Boarion, and Gnome Brimli burst out of the City of Blessings, charging toward the six Northern Coalition lords.

"This is the battle that decides everything!"

Jorik's glacial dragon voice rumbled, and Orion and the others let out fierce war cries of their own, joining the fray. In the blink of an eye, the Legendary-level fighters were locked into a massive aerial brawl.

"Help me!"

That desperate shout came from Boarfolk Boarion. The Northern Coalition's plan was to pick off the Blood Elves' weakest link right at the start; they'd decided that would be him—still considered injured even if his severed limb had been reattached. Whether or not he'd fully recovered, they'd marked him for a swift takedown.

Crackling with transcendent power, Orion's trident, scorching fire arrows, roaring ballistic rounds, and slicing wind blades all hammered in at once. Boarfolk Boarion stood at the brink of disaster.

Meanwhile, in his draconic form, Jorik faced a coordinated assault from Grand Elder Lireesa, Elanor, and Gnome Brimli. Thick vines bristling with thorns spiraled out from Lireesa's hands, coiling around the Glacial Dragon. Elanor took aim with her bow and released nine arrows in quick succession, each bound for Jorik. And standing inside an enormous mechanical construct, Brimli swung a warhammer with all his might straight at the dragon.

Aaaaargh…

Rooaaar…

In the span of a heartbeat, the Glacial Dragon Jorik and Boarfolk Boarion slammed to the ground like twin meteors, their fates uncertain. Both sides looked on in shock.

Orion, Lokiviria, Gareth, Ironhoof, and Bluehide instinctively grouped together, wary of sharing Jorik's fate.

Across from them, Grand Elder Lireesa, Elanor, and Gnome Brimli did much the same, visibly shaken by the sudden fall of Jorik and Boarion.

Just like that, after a lightning-fast exchange, the fight briefly ground to a halt. Both sides hovered in midair, facing off in tense silence, neither side uttering a word.