Titan King: Ascension of the Giant
Chapter 822 - 822: An Insult to the Reign

[Siren's Regeneration]

[Type: Enhancement Skill Scroll (Special)]

[Quality: Legendary]

Description: Upon learning this skill, the user's self-healing abilities are greatly enhanced. As long as the head and heart do not suffer catastrophic damage, any wound will regenerate. Destroyed limbs and organs will also be restored in a short time.

Note 1: Regeneration consumes the body's life force. If the life force is insufficient, or if a corresponding source of energy is not provided, the regenerative ability will be weakened.

Note 2: This is a bloodline enhancement skill. When the host's body is weakened and on the verge of death, there is a small chance of bloodline mutation. If the host dies, the body will transform into a Siren.

The scroll in Orion's hands was an artifact of legendary power. Without hesitation, he tore it in two. A torrent of golden light flooded from the parchment, pouring into his body.

He felt a primal energy infuse his very cells. Reaching for his trident, he drew one of its razor-sharp points across his own forearm. A deep gash appeared, yet the pain was a dull, distant thing.

In less than a second, before a single drop of blood could even form, the wound sealed itself shut. The skin was left flawless, without a trace of a scar.

Even for a giant, whose resilience was immense, the sheer speed of the healing was startling. The scroll had granted him no new overt ability, but his body's own power to mend itself was now magnified to a terrifying degree, drastically increasing his ability to survive any battle.

As for the scroll's two drawbacks, Orion dismissed them. Life force as fuel? A small price to pay. The risk of transforming into a siren upon death? When facing annihilation, who had the luxury of worrying about the state of their own corpse?

Just as Orion was about to turn his focus to the Survivor's Platform, the silken voice of a succubus guard echoed from outside the hall.

"My lord, Elder Lysinthia requests an audience."

Orion's brow arched slightly. He knew Lysinthia's temperament well. She was a creature of quiet frost; if he did not seek her out, she would never approach him of her own accord.

Unless something was wrong.

"Let her enter."

A moment later, Lysinthia swept into the great hall. Orion patted his leg, and without a word, she glided over and settled onto his thigh, the gesture one of familiar intimacy and deference.

"Is there trouble in your city?" he asked. If she had come to him, it could only be about her domain, the port city of Lysinthia. And it would be serious.

"Yes."

Orion said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"Master," she said, her voice tight, "Commander Clawpincher is dead."

Clawpincher. Commander of the Tidecrab Shield-Wall. Since being summoned, Orion had stationed him at Mist Bay to help Lysinthia defend the harbor. Orion froze, immediately reaching out with his senses to the magical contract that bound the warrior to him.

There was nothing. The connection was gone.

"Tell me what happened," Orion's voice became edged with ice. He had just ascended to Archlord, and already one of his alpha-level beings had fallen on his own shores. To have this happen so soon was an open act of defiance. An insult to his reign.

Half a month ago, in the seas near the city of Lysinthia.

With the Giant Kelp Water Cannons and the Ocean Hunters fully cultivated, the Sea-Devouring Warships stationed at Mist Bay began their primary mission: to explore the vast, uncharted waters and find a safe route to Serpent Isle.

On that day, Clawpincher led his Tidecrab Shield Warriors and a contingent of lizardmen aboard two warships, pushing further into the unknown territories.

"Commander," a lizardman said from behind Clawpincher, his voice a gravelly attempt to break the monotony of the open sea. "They say our lord has ascended to Archlord. You think the Sea-folk out here have heard? Think they're hiding from us?"

The loneliness of the sea was a pressure cooker; without talk, the warriors would go mad.

"They have surely heard of our lord's name," Clawpincher rumbled, his gaze fixed on the churning waves. "But as for his ascension… I doubt it. Even we only learned of it because the Sentinel Corps sent word. Keep to your duties. Once we chart the route to Serpent Isle, you'll all be rotated for shore leave."

At the mention of leave, a murmur of anticipation rippled through the crew. Leave meant a trip to Blackstone City, or even the capital, Stoneheart. The bustling markets of the capital, filled with goods from foreign lands, were a powerful lure.

"Heh, I heard you can buy human thralls in Stoneheart's outer markets," cackled another warrior, his voice crude. "Prettier than anything that crawls out of the sea. When we get back, I'm buying a half-dozen for myself!"

A wave of rough laughter followed the shameless declaration. But it was cut short by a violent shudder that ran through the hull of the warship—a combat signal from the Ocean Hunters, warning of an imminent threat.

"To arms! Enemy contact!" Clawpincher's reaction was instantaneous, his voice bellowing across the deck.

The Giant Kelp Water Cannons swiveled, their maws turning toward the sea. The Ocean Hunters detached from the hull and swarmed into the depths. But as the crew stared, a collective chill seized them. All around them, the waves were rising to impossible heights, and within the churning walls of water, the silhouettes of countless merfolk warriors could be seen.

"We are the Stoneheart Horde, sailing from Mist Bay!" Clawpincher roared, hoping to avoid a clash between potential allies, knowing his lord had ties to the mer-races. "Identify yourselves!"

The only answer was the triumphant, piercing cry of a sea-drake.

It was followed by a barrage of water magic that hammered the ships and the swarm of Merfolk warriors that poured from the waves.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

The world became a storm of chaos. The cannons boomed. The Ocean Hunters tore into the enemy with feral rage. The Tidecrab warriors locked their shields, forming a wall against the tide, while the lizardmen fired heavy crossbows from the ship's battlements. But they were surrounded, an army rising from all sides.

They held out for half a day. After the last of the Ocean Hunters were slaughtered, Clawpincher and his warriors were dragged into a desperate, final battle. In the depths of the ocean, with no support and no retreat, against an enemy whose strength far outmatched their own, their fate was sealed.

When the storm subsided, the Sea-Devouring Warships were gone, sunk to the depths. Not a single body floated on the surface. Even the blood that had stained the ocean red was quickly diluted, washed away by the currents.

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

Stoneheart City, upon the throne.

"Return to your city at once," Orion said, his voice betraying no emotion. "Halt all voyages. Let no warship leave the harbor."

He patted Lysinthia's back, a gesture of reassurance. "Hold Mist Bay. In time, my avatar will descend upon your city personally."

With Clawpincher's death, Lysinthia had lost her right arm, and her city, a great general.

"Was it the Merfolk Race?" she asked, looking up at him.

Orion nodded. The contract with Clawpincher had been severed, but not before fragmented, dying images had flashed through their connection. There was no doubt who was responsible.

He couldn't help but reflect on the irony. In the south, where he had expected war, he had instead brokered peace with the Sea-Drakes. Yet here, in the northern waters of the Silvercurrent Sea, the Tidefang Clan—a faction he had paid little mind—had been the first to strike a blow against the Stoneheart Horde.