Titan King: Ascension of the Giant

"Orion, are you absolutely certain there are three Legendary level beings in there?"

"I'm sure of it."

The question came from Jorik. When Orion fixed him with a serious look and nodded, everyone else frowned—Lokiviria and Bluehide included.

"Well, I only sense two Legendary-level energies," Lokiviria said, sounding less than pleased. He wasn't doubting Orion per se; rather, he was worried that whoever was hiding in the shadows was already stronger than both him and Bluehide.

They were all smart enough to know Orion wouldn't lie about something like this, especially on a battlefield.

"The blood elf use secret techniques to mask energy signatures. This is no surprise," Bluehide remarked. "However, I suspect that the hidden lord among them may have reached upper Legendary-level. That would explain why neither Lokiviria nor I can pick up his presence."

Judging from the logical deduction, it was clearly the smaller of Bluehide's two heads doing the talking.

"Who cares if they're upper Legendary," Lord Jorik growled, his voice cold and bloodthirsty. "It's six against three—nothing to be afraid of."

"Three Legendary-level foes, with one possibly at upper Legendary…" Lokiviria added, "We'll have to attack together and probe their strength. Once we figure them out, we can decide how to split up and take them on."

Though arrogant, Lokiviria wasn't stupid.

"I agree with testing them."

"Me too."

"Count me in…"

Orion also agreed. Since both armies' cannon-fodder units had already clashed on the outskirts, he was dying to know just what the southern lords were truly capable of.

––––––––

Boar City was once known by a far prettier name—Whitecloud City—but most people now called it Boar City, after the boarfolk who ruled there: Boarion.

At present, though, Boarion wasn't up on the walls directing his troops. He stood instead atop a watchtower alongside two cloaked Blood Elves.

"Ms. Elanor, the enemy is too numerous. Boar City won't withstand them for long!"

Truth be told, Boarion sounded nervous. However, it wasn't the fate of his people he feared—he was anxious about saving his own skin.

The boarfolk were a subordinate race of the Blood Elves, and a while back, they'd already sent a batch of boarfolk infants away from the city. Even if every single boar here died, enough food would let them breed back to full strength in almost no time. Boarion, meanwhile, was bound by contract with the Elf King, who needed boarfolk as cannon fodder to drain the invading races from the north. Boarion had no say in the matter.

Added to that, Boarion had already sensed the six Legendary-level auras from afar; he was terrified he might lose his life before this was over.

"Ms. Elanor, shouldn't we get out of here now?" he pleaded. "If we wait until they realize what's happening, we might not make it out."

But it was already too late.

"They're here," said the Blood Elf, Elanor, her voice calm. "Don't be afraid, Boarion. As long as I'm around, nobody will hurt you."

Elanor was the same Blood Elf who once escorted an Elder to the human kingdom to negotiate their alliance. Her friend, the dwarf Harbek, was currently locked in fierce combat on the eastern front.

Elanor's reason for heading to Boar City with a fellow elf was simple: reconnaissance. She wanted to size up these six lords invading from the west. Nobody else could easily gather such intel except the Elf King and Elanor herself. Once they had a read on these lords' abilities, the Blood Elves could arrange their troops—or decide whether they needed to help reinforce the embattled central front.

"When the fighting starts, don't stray from my line of sight."

Zip!

Crack!

No sooner had Elanor finished speaking than Orion's spear and Ironhoof's flaming arrow streaked through the sky, tearing the air with a shrill roar.

She didn't flinch. Smoothly drawing the bow from her back, Elanor loosed two arrows in quick succession. Red-fletched projectiles flew with absolute precision, intercepting and extinguishing Orion's spear and Ironhoof's firebolt.

Boom! Boom!

Thunderous explosions rocked the sky, but the ground battle raged on, unaffected by the clash of Legendary-level fighters high above.

War would not wait simply because the strongest combatants were trading blows.

Zip!

Crack!

The probing attacks continued. Orion and Ironhoof unleashed another volley—the spear and the flaming arrow once again arrowed straight for Elanor.

Eyes narrowing, Elanor pulled back her bow, this time releasing four arrows in one fluid motion. Two of them met the spear and the firebolt, knocking them off course, while the remaining pair flew straight at Orion and Ironhoof.

However, before either arrow could land, Bluehide and Lokiviria stepped in.

Bluehide slammed one giant spiked club down on the arrow headed for Ironhoof, causing the air to wail around it. Lokiviria opted for brute force, swinging a punch through the air and blasting the arrow to pieces.

"Looks like she really is upper Legendary-level," Lokiviria snarled. "Hey, that big ogre—team up with me. "

"Okay, let's crush her! I wanna smash her tits!"

From the roughness in Bluehide's tone, it was plainly the slower of his two heads in charge right now—dull-witted maybe, but every bit as dangerous in a fight.

"Orion, you and I will tag-team that boarfolk lord," Jorik ordered. Seeing Lokiviria and Bluehide move to take on the upper Legendary Blood Elf, Jorik instinctively turned to Orion to deal with Boarion.

As for the remaining Blood Elf, Gareth and Ironhoof would take on that one.

Roar!

With a thunderous sound, Jorik shifted into his draconic form: a Glacial Dragon spreading its wings across the sky. A rush of awe-inspiring dragon power washed over the battlefield, making weaker creatures on both sides shudder in fear.

Crack!

Before Jorik could close in on the boarfolk, Orion hurled spear after spear, each throw meant to disrupt the defenders' rhythm. The instant Jorik's Glacial Dragon form reached the enemy lines, Orion finally paused his barrage.

He glanced at the other two battles, where combatants were already locked in furious conflict.

Then Orion drew his trident, the Flame of Will, and charged straight for boarfolk Lord Boarion.

Orion activated Swift Charge. While Boarion dodged the Glacial Dragon's claw attack, Orion seized that brief opening to launch a surprise strike from behind.

Boom!

Boarion's defense was nothing short of bizarre. A few spines suddenly sprouted from his back, shooting out like toxic needles. Not only were they treacherous, but they also forced Orion to halt his ambush.

"Are those boar bristles?"

Orion swept his trident wide, knocking aside the needles with ease. Peering more closely, he saw they were thick, stiff quills resembling a porcupine's spikes.

Roar!

Lord Jorik unleashed his power at full blast, hurling a chunk of ice-element energy that slammed Boarion backward, sending the boarfolk flying a short distance.

"My turn!"

A flash of killing intent flickered in Orion's eyes. Lifting one hand, he created an Eightfold Spear Barrage, trapping Boarion inside.

"WAAAGH!"

With a roar, Orion raised his trident and stabbed down viciously at Boarion.

"Ms. Elanor, help! Save me!"

At the critical moment, Boarion shielded his vital areas. Quills as stiff as steel needles burst from his body, all angling in one direction and forming a rough, layered barrier—something like a spiked shield.

Rumble!

Blood magic and lightning clashed together in a barrage of blasts.

Screeech!

Nine harsh shredding sounds rang out in quick succession. Off in the distance, Elanor wielded a longsword infused with supernatural power, driving back Lokiviria and Bluehide, who had been double-teaming her. Then she drew a bow, knocked nine arrows at once, and fired, forcing all six of the Legendary-level beings—including Orion—to retreat.

"Fall back!"

Even as Elanor spoke, she spun on her heel and tore off southward. The male Blood Elf who'd come with her darted away as well, fleeing the battlefield. Boarion, too, made use of Orion's brief stumble to slip out of the Eightfold Spear Barrage.

"Running, huh? Not so fast!"

Though Orion had been forced back by that sudden volley of arrows—briefly losing control over the Eightfold Spear Barrage—the array itself hadn't vanished.

"Stay right where you are!"

Orion urged the floating spears back into action. Their shapes shifted instantly into tridents, growing far more lethal the moment they transformed. Then they shot straight at Boarion, tracking his every move.

Splurt!

Boarion left an arm behind in his flight. Using the backward thrust, he turned into a streak of blood-red light and managed to escape the battlefield.

"Should we chase them down?"

Gareth's question made everyone glance around at one another, then turn their eyes to Lord Jorik. He looked excited, clearly tempted to pursue the wounded Boarion—taking out a lord at that moment seemed too good to pass up.

"No, we can't!"

Sensing Jorik's eagerness, Bluehide spoke up, explaining his view.

"And why not?"

Reverting to his human form, Jorik strode over to Orion. He'd grown a bit fond of Orion after seeing the giant choose all the right moments to strike and almost finishing off a rival lord.

"Lord Jorik, the main part of this war is still raging down below. All we did was a test run. Our objective in that skirmish is fulfilled.

"As you've all seen, that Blood Elf woman is crazy tough," Bluehide's smaller head continued, speaking with calm clarity.

"He's right," Lokiviria said. "She fended off both of us, then still managed to rescue her ally. That puts her at upper Legendary-level for sure. Not to mention, she's handy with both a sword and a bow. If we keep chasing, there's a chance we'll get split up and picked off one by one."

Orion and crew knew they only had the upper hand because of their numbers. Elanor clearly hadn't expected to face six Legendary-level opponents working in perfect unison. If they went after her now, their varying speeds could scatter the group. That might give Elanor the chance to kill a couple of them.

"I think this all worked out fine," Lokiviria went on. "Let's capture Boar City. Our armies can rest here—and feast!"

Orion gave a quiet nod; Lokiviria's analysis was right on the mark. He was an arrogant insectoid, but definitely no fool.

"Orion, what do you think?"

Lord Jorik turned to him. The other lords also looked his way. He might've been the only one to nearly take down that fleeing enemy just now, so they were inclined to trust his judgment.

"I agree with Lokiviria and Bluehide—no sense chasing a cornered foe. Boar City is right in front of us. Once we seize it, our troops can rest before we head further south. Besides, if we leave this place unprotected and some hidden Legendary-level being sneaks in to attack, that could be disastrous."

Everyone nodded, seeing the sense in Orion's words. If their armies got wiped out, even conquering a huge territory would be worthless.

At length, Lord Jorik regained his composure. "Since we're on the same page, let's talk about how we'll carve up the spoils of Boar City!"
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Eyes brightened all around. As the seat of a lord, Boar City had to have some worthwhile loot. Even if Boarion served under the Blood Elves, Boar City was richer than any place up north.

"I don't mind taking fewer resources if I can have more of the boarfolk themselves," Orion declared. "I need slaves. My little spiders also need extra food stock."

Nobody much objected. After all, in most of their eyes, the boarfolk were nothing but slaves—or convenient meat. Lokiviria and Bluehide, in particular, regarded them more as a savory meal than anything else.

"For fairness sake, let's all head inside together and take a look around," Ironhoof said at last. He'd been quiet up until then but spoke now that the group had hammered out a plan for sharing the spoils.

Orion glanced at Ironhoof with a level of caution. Truth be told, he didn't fully trust him yet—but with their forces on the move, it was time to enter Boar City.