Titan King: Ascension of the Giant-Chapter 832: A Game of Kings

King Jaklas had long been guarding another of the world tunnels. He had been unaware when Marina was cast into the endless abyss.

To be precise, his avatar had been dormant, having suffered grave injuries in the last great war between realms. Besides, at the time, Jaklas had no idea that the suitor who had won Marina’s heart, this giant, would prove to be an Archlord.

Under normal circumstances, sacrificing a minor princess to appease a newly ascended Archlord from within his own clan would have been a sound political move. Had he been awake, he would not have intervened.

But now, with Orion at his doorstep, the situation had changed. This was an opportunity. He could use the King of the Giants to put the ambitious Phorcys in his place.

Phorcys was the Tidefang Clan’s newest Archlord, having risen to power after the destruction of the world tunnels, which was why he had not been drawn into their defense. He and Orion had, in fact, ascended in the same era, though Phorcys’s rise had come slightly later.

"Your Majesty, what manner of satisfaction do you require?" Phorcys’s voice drifted from a distance, betraying neither sorrow nor joy.

In truth, Marina’s fate was of little consequence to Phorcys himself. But the noble houses that formed his faction could not abide such a stain upon their collective honor. With Phorcys’s ascension, Marina’s broken betrothal had become a personal, galling insult. He had not intervened to cause her death, but he had certainly not lifted a finger to prevent it.

"Marina is dead," Jaklas said, his tone a carefully crafted instrument of statecraft. "She broke her vow to you. On that, I have nothing to say."

He paused, letting the implication hang in the water. "However, she died because of this Orion, and now he has come here because of her. He will demand an answer from you."

It was, of course, sophistry. But Phorcys was a newly-minted Archlord, the prideful genius of the Tidefang Clan. Even if he recognized the king’s verbal trap, his arrogance would compel him to step into it.

Orion was Marina’s lover. Marina was Phorcys’s betrothed. By extension, Marina’s dishonor was Phorcys’s dishonor. Orion had, in effect, insulted him.

A rival who had stained his name was now approaching the Silvercurrent Sea. To Phorcys, this was not a threat, but a gift from the Fates. It was a chance to personally wash away his humiliation and, more importantly, a perfect stage on which to display his newfound power. It was an opportunity to make an example of an outsider and, in doing so, send a clear message to his rivals within the clan.

The identity of those rivals was an unspoken understanding. In fact, many of the warriors who had followed the princes Vorluk, Gulas, and Heket had been placed there by Phorcys’s own faction. The three brothers, of course, had been entirely oblivious, fools played for pawns by the old powers of the clan.

"Rest assured, Your Majesty," Phorcys’s voice echoed again. "He wants an answer? I shall give him one."

As he spoke, his figure materialized outside the grand audience chamber of the palace. He was powerful, but he knew better than to barge in on Jaklas, the ancient king and an Archlord of the old guard.

"You are a pillar of the Tidefang Clan, Phorcys. There is no need for such ceremony. Come, join me." Jaklas’s voice was magnanimous. He wished to check the young Archlord’s ambition, not make a permanent enemy of him. Though they hailed from different bloodlines, generations of intermarriage had woven their lineages together.

"This Giant King, Orion... what we know of him is limited," Jaklas offered as Phorcys entered. "He is likely a new power. The old dragon’s release has thrown the continent of Utessar and the southern Starfall and Trident Seas into chaos. I suspect the Giant King rose to prominence amidst that turmoil."

It was a show of the magnanimity that kept Jaklas secure on his throne. He offered the warning because he did not wish to see Phorcys suffer too great a loss.

But he held one card back. He did not tell Phorcys about the undead leviathan, the Archlord-level creature that served Orion.

In Jaklas’s mind, the outcome was clear. Phorcys and Orion would fight. With an Archlord-class mount at his command, the Giant King would surely have the upper hand. Phorcys would be defeated. Just as his defeat seemed imminent, or when his life was truly in peril, Jaklas would intervene, mediating the conflict and restoring order.

It was the ending he had foreseen, the ending he desired.

As for the Marina whom Orion sought, she was truly gone. But the Tidefang Clan had many other princesses, some even more beautiful. If Orion were willing, he could leave the Silvercurrent Sea with two new brides.

The old king’s mind was a whirlwind of shrewd calculations.

"A giant?" Phorcys scoffed. "A land-dweller Archlord dares venture this deep into our domain?" When he learned of Orion’s race, his disdain was palpable. It was the innate contempt of a creature of the abyss for a thing of the surface. In the sea, they were the masters.

"Ah, of course. He must have Marina’s mermaid pearl, does he not?" Phorcys reasoned aloud. "No wonder he has the courage to come here. The fool. He has no conception of the true power of the Sea-folk(sea race)."

Dripping with self-assurance, Phorcys snatched a goblet of wine from a passing attendant and drained it in one gulp.

"Your Majesty, grant me the authority to handle this affair in its entirety."

"It is my very intention," Jaklas replied smoothly.

Meanwhile, in Stoneheart City, within the walls of a tavern known as The Silent Goblet(mysterious tavern).

The third floor of the establishment was a space apart, reserved for patrons who had attained the Legendary tier. Power, not status, was the only currency that granted entry.

Today, the floor held only two occupants: Orion and Lycanor.

Lycanor had yet to formally become one of Orion’s women, and she felt awkward lingering in the castle. The tavern provided a suitable, and relatively private, venue for their meeting.

"I enjoy the southern climes," Orion began, his voice a low rumble. "The wind is warm, the rains are frequent, the sun is generous."

He paused, his eyes locking with hers. "And I enjoy the blood elves of the south even more."

"Would you like to know my first impression of you?" He sat by the window, swirling the wine in his goblet with one hand, his gaze unwavering.

A faint blush rose on Lycanor’s cheeks. Just as her eyes began to dart away, Orion turned his head, looking down at the bustling street market below.

"I remember thinking, Seven Hells, she’s a vision. And then, That archery is astoundingly brilliant." He could still recall the shock of watching her unleash volleys of six, then nine arrows at once during the War of North and South. If he could win her, the Stoneheart Horde would gain another supreme warrior, a power to rival his own.

"The most astounding figure in that war was you, the Giant King," Lycanor replied, her voice soft but firm. "And the greatest victor of the western theater was the Stoneheart Horde."