The Rise of the Titan

"It seems the Spider Queen has a good hold on this continent, being able to summon eight legends here," Muria observed the Drow Elves surrounding him, a fierce battle spirit igniting in his eyes.

He had already felt a change in his legendary barrier. Although the change was slight, there was indeed a sign of loosening. This slight change occurred right after his recent battle. Battles between life and death could indeed stimulate a Titan's potential, making them stronger at a faster rate. For a Titan, battle equaled growth.

Golden blood energy surged from Muria, enveloping his body in a radiant brilliance, like the blazing sun. Controlling his body, he slowly shrank to an appropriate size. In battle, bigger wasn't always better, though size did indicate strength.

"Indeed, a Titan shows no fear even in such a dire situation," the dark archmage who first tracked Muria praised. "But this time, you won't escape."

With a wave of his staff, more Drow Elves appeared around Muria, their levels ranging from Gold to soul-level, totaling over five hundred.

"Hah, I have my own," Muria sneered, releasing all his demon minions and summoning his other servant, the now legendary Abyssal Fiend Myles.

"A Titan keeping so many demons and even a legendary fiend, do your kin know?" a legendary Sword Dancer mocked.

"Ignorant," Muria laughed. Keeping a few demons was nothing. The Abyss Lord Ulysses had even severed the Abyss and moved it back.

"Kill!" Without further ado, Muria and the eager Broken Horn, along with over a hundred demon followers and the bewildered Abyssal Fiend Myles, charged at the attacking Drow Elves.

"Cough!" Muria coughed, a trickle of golden blood at the corner of his mouth. Beside him, the heavily wounded Broken Horn followed, having held off six Drow legends with Myles, bearing the brunt of the attacks. Broken Horn had endured the assaults with his body, leaving him in a dire state.

"Drow Elves, Spider Queen Lolth." Muria wiped the blood from his mouth, glaring at the three barely recognizable Blood Lion Demons beside him, anger flaring in his eyes.

Since leaving the Titan Islands, he hadn't suffered such severe injuries. This was the first time he faced an assault by eight legends. Fortunately, he had Broken Horn and Myles. But all his other demon minions had perished, leaving only the three Blood Lion Demons.

"Leave this continent as soon as possible, master!" advised Myles, clad in a battle-worn armor. Having served Muria for so long, it was the first time he saw his esteemed master in such a state.

"Yes," though his Titan nature craved battle, Muria hadn't lost his sanity. He understood this wasn't a place for a fair fight. No one would hold back. Every legend he faced wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

The journey back was long and arduous. Muria never expected to find himself surrounded by enemies. Since encountering the Wax Demon, his exact location seemed exposed to the evil gods.

Whether Broken Horn or Myles, whenever they crossed space, evil god followers would intercept them, leading to tough battles.

Each step forward meant fighting a legend, reaching the point of constant conflict. Muria's innate Titan physique and the Holy Glory Abyss armor kept him at peak combat strength, quickly recovering from injuries.

But Broken Horn and Myles struggled. Myles, being a well-equipped fiend, could replace his shattered armor. Broken Horn, however, relied solely on his body, known for his poverty among demons.

Continuous legendary battles took a toll on Broken Horn, as legendary wounds were hard to heal, with new injuries piling on old ones.

"My master, what did you do to make these evil god followers cling to you like rabid dogs?" asked Myles, his face grim, glancing at the battered Broken Horn beside him. His armor, for legends, was flimsy, easily pierced.

"Who knows? I just killed some of their followers and destroyed some temples," Muria smiled faintly, recalling the scene of him stepping on the statue of a deity's head. Even when the deity's consciousness descended, he hadn't backed down. It was some Kuo-toa god, he remembered, and being humiliated like that, it was natural for them to want him dead.

"What is it? Come here," Muria's eyes flashed, spotting something in a nearby forest. Reaching out, he grabbed it.

"A beastman?" Muria frowned at the creature he pulled from the woods. "A follower of the Black Blood Beast. I don't remember provoking this beast."

"Are you the Titan's offspring? A perfect sacrifice. If I could offer you to the God of the Hunt, I would…"

"Slap!" Muria crushed the spying beastman, blood and bone splattering.

"Lord Atris, young master is being besieged by a group of unscrupulous legends. Won't you intervene?"

"Not my place," said the golden dragoness seated on her legendary metal throne, watching Muria's bloody battle. Turning her head towards the Titan's domain, she continued, "The main reason little Muria is being hunted is his Titan bloodline. Soon, what he carries will be revealed. Then, the gods will personally intervene, putting aside their little dignity. When that happens, the world will once again know the meaning of Titan's Wrath."