Titan King: Ascension of the Giant
Chapter 818 - 818: A Pact of Vassalage

Lilith shook her head. She understood Lycanor's unspoken question.

"Orion brought it back with him from another realm. It is exceedingly rare; the Stoneheart Horde has only this one." She watched Lord Lycanor, a faint, knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "If you desire it, I would of course have to consult Orion."

The hint of amusement in her eyes was enough. Realization dawned on Lycanor. The marriage alliance… they've figured it out?

She gave a curt nod, masterfully burying the flicker of awkwardness that rose in him. She broke eye contact with Lilith, turning his attention to a rare, luminous moss clinging to the nearby stones, a silent admission of her perception.

From a high window in the citadel, Orion watched as Prince Theodore departed, leaving the castle grounds alone.

Kronos, of course, remained behind.

For the next few days, the young giant was to live within the castle walls. By the traditions of the giant clans, the authority for Kronos's discipline now rested with Lilith, and so here he would stay. It seemed, however, that Lilith was content for the moment to turn a blind eye to the drama unfolding between Elara, Pallas, and their new charge.

Orion turned from the window, putting his three children from his mind. He was the unshakeable foundation of this place; their squabbles were but tremors on the surface. None dared truly test his authority.

Besides, his day was far from over.

In the Great Hall, a friend was already waiting for him. Unlike the envoys from the sea folk and the human kingdoms, the arrival of Aldous the Ogre was not a matter of state. It was a reunion fueled by feasting.

The ogre sat before a groaning board, piled high with roasted meats and overflowing flagons, a stream of servants constantly replenishing the platters.

"For an ogre like me, this is paradise."Aldous's main head boomed, the voice deep and resonant.

From the hulking shoulder of the main body, a second, larger head grunted in agreement, its mouth full. "And the food. This life of constant eating… it's a dream."

As Orion entered, Aldous made to stand, a gesture of respect that brought the feast to a halt. The larger head, interrupted mid-chew, shot the main head a look of pure fury. But then it registered Orion's presence, felt the immense, suffocating pressure of an Archlord's aura, and its demeanor changed entirely.

It gulped down its mouthful, lowered itself onto Aldous's chest, and began to snore with theatrical volume, pretending to be asleep.

"Pathetic beast," Aldous muttered, then stepped forward to clasp Orion in a one-armed embrace. The other arm remained limp at his side, controlled by the slumbering head.

"Orion, I must thank you," Aldous said, his voice earnest. "When word reached me of your ascension to Archlord, something shifted. I found I had… control. For the first time."

He gestured with his chin toward the snoring head. "If he misbehaves, I beg you, my friend… beat some sense into him for a poor, long-suffering ogre."

Orion laughed, a hearty, booming sound that filled the hall as he clapped Aldous on the back. "As you wish, my friend!"

They sat and talked for a long while, sharing stories and food as only old comrades could. When the last of the main courses had been cleared away, Aldous finally came to the purpose of his visit.

"Orion, my friend. We have decided. We are willing to bring the ogre clans to join the Stoneheart Horde."

Orion paused, the wine cup halfway to his lips. He set it down slowly, his gaze turning serious as he looked from Aldous to the another head.

"Oi!" Aldous snapped, nudging his other half. "Wake up, you lout. It's time to pledge your fealty!"

He jabbed it again. "If you don't speak, I'll have my friend take all the food away."

The threat worked instantly. The larger head's eyes flew open, darting toward the dessert platters now arriving at the table.

SMACK!

Aldous's hand cracked across the brute-head's cheek. "What did we agree upon before we came?"

The larger head grumbled, then turned its piggy eyes to Orion. "Ogres will bow to the giant tribe," it slurred, its voice a low growl. "And to you, Archlord. But… you have to feed us. And give us a place to live."

With the brute's terms laid bare, Aldous looked back to Orion. "What say you, my friend?"

Orion didn't give an immediate answer. The ogres were a complicated people. Aldous was an anomaly; the vast majority of his kind were little more than hulking beasts, driven by base urges for slaughter and sustenance. Unleashing them upon the delicate ecosystem of the Horde… they were a powder keg waiting for a spark.

"Aldous, I accept your pledge of fealty," Orion said finally. "But, my friend, given the unique nature of your people, they cannot be integrated into the Horde as others are. Not yet."

Orion's gaze was direct. "You understand my meaning, don't you?"

Aldous nodded slowly, his expression falling. He was no fool; he heard the reservation in Orion's tone, the polite rejection of his less… civilized kin. He didn't blame Orion. He knew his people's shortcomings better than anyone.

"However," Orion continued, leaning forward. "I have a proposal. Hear me out."

Aldous looked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes. He would listen to any path that led his people toward a brighter future.

"A pact of vassalage," Orion declared. "The ogre clans and your ancestral territories will fall under the banner of the Stoneheart Horde. Your people will remain on your lands, governed by your own traditions."

"All the resources of your territory—the mines, the forests, the quarries—will be open to the Horde. In return, the Horde will guarantee the survival of every ogre. We will ensure you are fed and protected, and we will interfere as little as possible with your way of life."

"Any ogre who, like you, possesses wisdom and discipline, will be welcome to join our cities and our legions without restriction. But the others… the others must remain in their own domain, for now."

Orion laid out his vision. To expand, the Horde had to incorporate other races. But with such vast differences in custom, temperament, not all could live together in one harmonious society. Some, like the ogres, required a different approach.

This would be the template. A way to bring disparate and volatile peoples into the fold without shattering the peace. The ogres were merely the first test.

Night had fallen over the castle square.

Elara, Pallas, and Kronos were still there. The young giant remained ensnared by the thorny vines, his skin covered in angry red welts from the whipping.

"Say it," Elara commanded, standing before him with her arms crossed. The vine in her hand twitched like a serpent's tail. "Say, 'Elara is my big sister.' If you do not, you will have no food. No water. And no rest."

Kronos glared back, his entire body aching. At first, she had merely lashed his backside. When he had refused to cry out, she had directed the vines to strike him everywhere, her childish cruelty growing with his defiance.