Chương 247: A Titan Emerges

Vale stared at Korin, his eyes wide and unsteady, as if the ground beneath him had shifted without warning. Korin stood there with a gaze drained of life, sorrow pooling within it like water behind cracked glass. For a long moment, Vale couldn't speak. His throat tightened, hands trembling faintly at his sides. He had known, abstractly, that Korin had killed someone upon awakening, but the reality, laid bare like this, carried a weight he hadn't prepared for.

That it had been his own father wasn't just shocking, it was grotesquely tragic, a truth that resisted complete comprehension. Vale swallowed hard, forcing air into his lungs before finally managing, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You… what?" Korin didn't look away. The sorrow remained, heavy and suffocating, before he exhaled slowly and lowered his gaze, shame creeping into his posture as his shoulders slackened.

"Do you know who my father was?" he asked quietly, though the weight behind the question didn't lessen. Vale shook his head instinctively, words failing him. Korin let out a hollow, humorless chuckle.

"Figures," he muttered, then continued without pause, as if the pressure of the memory demanded release.

"Then I'll tell you." He leaned lightly against the basket, not for comfort but as if anchoring himself upright.

"My father was a great man, respected, admired, the kind people believed in without hesitation. A visorian, like us, bound to the plane of stone. His durability was unmatched, his skin could harden into something no ordinary visorian could hope to break." Korin paused, his jaw tightening.

"But he wasn't just exceptional. He was a paragon, one of the strongest in the current generation." Vale's breath caught. He took an involuntary step back, disbelief flashing across his face.

"You… you killed a paragon?" The words slipped out before he could stop them. Korin didn't react. If anything, his expression hollowed further.

"When I turned eight, I awakened," he continued, his voice unnervingly steady.

"But my power doesn't work like others. It adapts, continuously, relentlessly, growing stronger in response to whatever stands against me until eventually…" He hesitated, just for a fraction of a second.

"…until the opponent dies." Silence pressed down between them, dense and suffocating, but Korin pushed through it anyway.

"That day," he said, quieter now, "when the whispers finally stopped, the first thing I saw was my father's body." His eyes lost focus, dragged back into the memory whether he wanted it or not.

"He was covered in his stone armor. Blood was running down it… pooling at his feet." His hand twitched faintly.

"And my arm… was buried inside his chest." His voice dropped further.

"I had crushed his heart, and his visora organ. There was nothing left to heal. Nothing left to save." He lifted his gaze again, locking onto Vale with raw, unfiltered intensity.

"My power was never meant to protect," he said.

"It wasn't made to help people. It exists to kill, efficiently, inevitably." His voice hollowed.

"I'm not human, Vale. I'm a weapon… and one that could turn on anyone at any moment." The question that followed carried no accusation, only quiet, devastating honesty.

"So tell me… do you really want to be friends with something like that?" Vale stood frozen. Thoughts collided, fractured and reformed, none of them stable enough to hold onto. Korin's gaze carried no pride, no anger, only grief. Deep, enduring grief that made it feel as though he were still standing in that moment, eight years old, hand buried in his father's chest. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until Vale finally drew breath to answer, and a sharp, piercing beep shattered the moment.

Both of them flinched. Korin's expression snapped sideways, instinct taking over as his hand moved to the device clipped at his belt. The sound repeated, short, urgent, mechanical. Not random. A signal. Korin's face tightened as he glanced down at it, whatever he saw draining what little color remained.

"Damn it…" he muttered under his breath, the heaviness of the confession forced aside by something immediate, something pressing. Vale's tension shifted instantly.

"What is it?" he asked, voice sharpening. Korin didn't answer right away. His grip tightened around the device before he exhaled once, steadying himself. When he looked back up, the sorrow hadn't vanished, but it had been buried beneath his sense of duty. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"Trouble," he said simply. Another beep followed. Louder this time, more insistent. Korin clipped the device back into place and straightened fully, the shift in his posture immediate, clean, practiced and controlled. The boy weighed down by his past disappeared, replaced by the Royal Guard.

"Looks like we're not done here," he added, glancing toward the deeper stretch of the slums. Vale followed his gaze. The air felt different now. Tighter. Whatever was coming, It wasn't small. Both of them flinched as the sound tore through the air, sharp, mechanical, unnaturally loud in the fragile space between them. A harsh red light flickered from within Korin's pocket, stuttering against the stone like a warning flare, and the shift in his expression was immediate and absolute.

The sorrow vanished, not faded, not suppressed, but erased, replaced by pure, unfiltered alarm. He fumbled for the device, dragging it free and staring at it as if it had just delivered a sentence he couldn't afford to hear.

"No… no, no, no-again?!" he muttered, panic threading through his voice, tighter with every repetition. Vale barely had time to process it before Korin turned, his body snapping into motion so fast it blurred, sprinting toward Tachyon without hesitation. For a split second Vale just stood there, caught off guard, then instinct kicked in. He lunged forward and caught Korin's arm mid-stride.

"Wait, what's happening?" Korin wrenched free without slowing, urgency radiating off him in sharp, cutting waves. His eyes were different now, focused, lethal, entirely present.

"A Category Five deep dweller surfaced near the shore," he fired back, words rapid and clipped.

"It's heading straight for Irea. If it reaches the city, thousands die. We have to stop it before that happens." He glanced back once, just once, but it was enough. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment something unresolved flickered there.

"Stay here," Korin added, voice firm but strained under the weight of urgency.

"Let me do my job. you can give your answer after." Then he was gone. Tachyon's screech split the air like a blade, thunderous and piercing, as the massive eagle launched skyward. Its wings tore through the atmosphere with explosive force, and the resulting gust slammed into the slums, ripping dust and debris into spiraling chaos. Vale threw his arms up to shield his face, boots grinding against the stone as he fought to stay grounded.

"Wait! We're not done yet!" Vale shouted, but the wind devoured the words before they could carry. Within seconds, Korin was nothing more than a distant silhouette against the sky. Vale stood there, his teeth clenched, frustration and concern twisting together into something sharp and restless in his chest. His fists tightened at his sides before he turned sharply toward Shade, who now stood alone as the children scattered, laughter replaced by confusion.

"Shade, we're going after them," Vale said immediately, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Carry me. We need to catch up." The shadow regarded him for a brief, almost awkward beat, then moved. In an instant, Shade crossed the distance and lifted Vale with effortless precision, one arm securing him firmly as its form compressed and surged forward. Vision blurred. Stone streets vanished beneath them in streaks of gray and brown as Shade accelerated, moving with a speed no human body could sustain.

It weaved through the slums without breaking stride, then launched upward, bounding from rooftop to rooftop with fluid, predatory grace. Each landing cracked tile and wood alike, each leap carrying them higher, faster. The wind howled past, tearing at Vale's clothes and hair as he tightened his grip, eyes narrowing against the rush. Tachyon's silhouette remained far ahead, but not unreachable. For nearly a minute, they pushed forward relentlessly. Then, Shade stopped. The sudden halt nearly threw Vale off balance.

"Why did you-" he began, irritation rising fast, but the words died the moment his gaze lifted. The city ended. Before them stretched the ocean, vast, almost endless, its surface churning violently as though something beneath it was dragging the entire sea into motion. The horizon warped under the disturbance, waves colliding in unnatural patterns as pressure built and collapsed in violent succession. Shade set him down near the edge of the docks. Vale stepped forward slowly, drawn in despite himself.

Then he saw it.

"… A titan," he whispered. Even from hundreds of meters away, the scale was incomprehensible. The creature rose from the ocean like a living catastrophe, its body easily three hundred meters tall, if not more, towering above the waves as though the sea itself had birthed a god of destruction.

Its form resembled a colossal crustacean: ten massive legs anchoring it against the shifting tides, each one thick as fortress pillars, four enormous claws cleaving through the water with devastating force, and a maw lined with countless jagged fangs, grinding together in a constant, predatory rhythm that echoed faintly even at this distance. Its azure carapace shimmered under the light, blending almost seamlessly with the ocean, until it moved. And when it moved, The ocean recoiled.

Every shift of its body sent shockwaves across the water, waves rising and collapsing in chaotic patterns. The air itself felt heavier, saturated with pressure and something deeper, something ancient. Above it, the Royal Guard's aerial forces swarmed in coordinated formations. Wyverns dove in spirals, dragons unleashed bursts of flame and force, and other flying beasts struck in relentless waves, their riders directing the assault with disciplined precision.

But against something of this scale, their efforts looked… small. The titan endured. It lashed out violently, claws tearing through the air and sea alike, each motion a catastrophe capable of erasing entire squads. One swing alone sent a wyvern spiraling into the water, its rider vanishing beneath the crashing waves.

"Damn… one this big hasn't shown up in over a year." Vale turned at the voice. Silfur sat nearby on a broken crate, posture relaxed, one leg propped casually as Azure rested beside her. The chaos unfolding before them reflected in her eyes, not with fear, but with unmistakable excitement. Her grin was wide, sharp, almost feral. She glanced at Vale, amusement flickering as she took in his expression.

"Stand tall, kid," she said, tone edged with anticipation. Her gaze shifted back to the battlefield, eyes gleaming.

"You're about to witness a real show."