FREE USE in Primitive World

Chapter 160: Chapter 160: Titan Realm Info

The scene changed instantly.

The soft, ethereal light of the Spirit Realm was replaced by a sense of crushing weight. The visual perspective also shifted violently, the “camera” of the illusion zooming out until Sol felt like he had shrunk to the size of a mite on a rug.

“Then,” Isylia’s voice dropped, becoming heavy and resonant like a stone drum, “there is the Titan Realm.

Massive shapes formed in the void. Mountains that walked. Clouds that were actually the steam rising from the breath of giants. The horizon stretched into infinity, filled with structures so large they defied geometry.

“Everything there is countless times larger,” she explained, gesturing to a forest where the trees pierced the stratosphere. “A single blade of grass there is like a tower to you. A raindrop is a flood for a mortal like you. The gravity is crushing… ten, maybe twenty times what you are used to. The air is so dense it would feel like breathing in water.”

She pointed to a jagged mountain range in the distance of the illusion. Suddenly, the mountain stood up. It shook off avalanches of snow like dandruff, revealing shoulders made of granite and eyes like molten lakes.

“The mountains there move… because they are alive,” Isylia said, a hint of respect creeping into her tone. “Primordial Titans, Cyclopes, Mountain Giants… races that were forged before the universe decided to make things ’delicate.’ They live there. They war there.”

She looked down at Sol, a cruel smirk touching her lips.

“But of course, you going there would mean instant death. Your little frail skeleton would snap under the atmospheric pressure before you even took a breath. You would become meat paste in a second. A red smear on a Titan’s boot.”

“Honestly that would be a fitting ending for a leecher like you,” she didn’t forget to add.

Sol gulped, ignoring her taunts, instead, imagining his own implosion. “Noted. Avoid the land of walking mountains. They sound like mindless brutes anyway.”

“Brutes?” Isylia laughed, a sharp, barking sound. “You ignorant thing. They are the multiverse’s greatest scholars.”

Sol blinked. “The walking rocks are scholars?”

“Geology. Forging. Architecture,” Isylia listed, counting on her fingers. “They are masters of construction and metalworking. They aren’t just brutes; they are one of the universe’s best architects. They built the foundations of half the realms. While you humans are banging flints together to make fire, they are calculating the load-bearing capacity of tectonic plates.”

Sol stared at the illusion, stunned. He had initially thought this was a primitive, Stone Age world… a place of simple survival, sticks, and stones. He had assumed he was the smartest person in the room because he knew what a wheel was.

But damn. Here were Titans practicing metallurgy on a planetary scale.

She waved her hand, and the illusion zoomed in on a city floating in the sky.

“Look at that,” she commanded.

Sol looked. At first it seemed like a cloud, but upon taking a closer look, it wasn’t a cloud city. It was a city built on massive stones, floating mid air.

“Their houses are built from Gravity-Stone,” Isylia explained. “Rock that naturally floats, defying the crushing weight of the realm. Imagine a city where every ’building’ is a floating mountain, connected to the others by massive chains made of celestial gold.”

The scale was dizzying. Massive bridges connected the floating islands, and Sol could see Titans walking across them, carrying loads that would crush a modern city.

Sol whistled low. “Floating cities and mechas like beings. Okay, that’s… actually kind of badass.”

“And they don’t just build, they also forge.” She continued.

The image shifted again, descending into a fiery pit that looked like the mouth of hell.

“The World-Forge,” she whispered. “A city-sized volcano where the Titans craft weapons that can split mountains with a single swipe. They hammer raw tectonic plates into armor.”

Sol watched a Titan, shirtless and glowing with magma, strike an anvil with a hammer the size of a skyscraper.

CLANG.

Even in the illusion, the sound was deafening. Sparks flew like meteors, illuminating a workshop filled with all kinds of different forging materials, which he obviously didn’t recognize. It was civilization on a scale he couldn’t comprehend.

“They value ’Weight’ as Honor and ’Hardness’ as Resilience,” Isylia continued. her eyes reflecting the phantom fire. “A Titan’s status isn’t determined by gold or land. It is determined by the complexity of the Runes carved into their skin.”

She pointed to the Titan’s arm. It was covered in glowing, geometric carvings that pulsed with power.

“Those aren’t tattoos. They are circuits. They channel the energy of the realm to make them stronger. The deeper the cut, the harder the skin, the higher the rank. A King among Titans is a being so carved with Runes he looks like a walking obelisk of law.”

Sol’s eyes narrowed. He was doing the math. Stone Age humans vs. Titans with rune-tech and floating cities. The gap was absolutely terrifying. It meant that even if he conquered his tribe, even if he conquered the whole jungle… he was still just a bug compared to what was out there.

Honestly, seeing all of this, it was a miracle that humans had survived at all. But… if they had survived until now… maybe they had their own specialty. Something hidden, something he didn’t know like many other things.

“So,” he asked slowly. “If a human… theoretically… survived the pressure…”

Isylia rolled her eyes. “I know what you are thinking. Greed is written all over your face.”

Sol grinned sheepishly. “What can I say? I like upgrades. Who wouldn’t wanna get an indestructible body, it’s every man’s romance.”

She sighed, but she indulged him.

“I have heard that training there… just breathing the air… or acquiring a Weight-Rune would make a physical body almost indestructible in the human world. Your skin would become like iron-wood. Your bones like adamantite. You could walk through a landslide and not feel it. A spear would shatter against your eyelid.”

She pointed to a glistening, heavy liquid dripping from a stalactite in the illusion.

“And they have resources like Heavy-Water. One drop weighs a ton. Drinking it reinforces the skeletal structure to diamond-hard density. But it also tastes like liquid lead and will crush your stomach if you aren’t strong enough. They have Sun-Iron, metal that stays hot forever. They have Echo-Stone, which remembers everything spoken near it.”

Sol rubbed his chin, his eyes shining with ambition. “Indestructible body. Diamond bones. Floating cities. Runes.

He looked at his own fragile hands.

“Okay, Titan Realm is definitely on the list. Just need to figure out the whole ’imploding instantly’ problem.”

“Good luck with that,” Isylia snorted. “You’d need a Divine Physique just to step through the door without turning into jelly. Or a suit of armor made by a God. Though watching you pop would be entertaining.”

Sol shot her a glare. “You’re supposed to be my guide, not my heckler.”

Isylia smirked, folding her arms. “I am both. Consider it divine multitasking.”

…

Looking at the technology and then remembering the mud houses and stone tools, he couldn’t help ask. “But… do they ever interact with humans? Trade? War? Anything?”

Isylia tilted her head, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “Interact? Hah. To them, humans are gnats. Do you trade with gnats? Do you wage war against ants? No. You ignore them… unless they crawl into your food.”

Sol frowned. “So we’re just pests to them?”

“Exactly,” she said, her solar eyes gleaming. “But occasionally, a Titan will notice a mortal. Sometimes out of curiosity, sometimes amusement. They might toss a scrap of knowledge your way, or crush your village just to test the tensile strength of your bones. It depends on their mood.”

The illusion shifted again, showing a Titan bending down to examine a tiny human settlement. The giant’s eyes glowed with curiosity, then it casually dropped a rune‑etched pebble the size of a house into the village square.

“See?” Isylia said. “To them, that pebble is worthless. To you, it’s a divine artifact. Entire human tribes have risen and fallen because a Titan discarded a trinket.”

Sol’s eyes widened. “So… humans have gotten Titan artifacts before?”

Isylia nodded, though her smirk never faded. “Yes. The few mortals who stumble upon Titan relics often become legends in your world. Heroes, conquerors, prophets. But don’t mistake luck for respect. Titans don’t care if you live or die. They care about weight, hardness, and endurance. If you can’t survive their realm, you’re not worth remembering.”

Sol clenched his fists, determination burning in his eyes. “Then I’ll make them remember me.”

Isylia laughed, sharp and mocking. “Oh, bug. You’re so predictable. Dream of godhood, dream of Titan respect… it makes no difference. You’ll pop like a grape the moment you step foot there.”

Sol smirked back, defiant. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll be the first ant they can’t crush.”

Isylia’s smirk deepened, her solar eyes gleaming. “Fine, bug. Since you’re so desperate for hope, I’ll tell you a story. One of your kind once brushed against Titan legacy… and lived.”

The illusion shifted, showing a barren desert. A lone human trudged across the sands, ragged and starving. His tribe had been wiped out by famine, his body little more than bones wrapped in skin.

“This mortal,” Isylia said, her tone dripping with disdain, “was no hero. No chosen one. Just a scavenger. But fate is cruelly generous sometimes. He stumbled upon a Titan relic… a discarded hammer, no larger than a pebble to its owner, but to him it was the size of a fortress.”

The illusion zoomed in: a colossal hammer half‑buried in the sand, its surface etched with runes that glowed faintly.

Sol leaned forward, eyes wide. “And he… picked it up?”

Isylia laughed, sharp and mocking. “Picked it up? He couldn’t. The thing weighed more than a mountain. But he touched it. And the runes carved into its surface burned into his flesh. His body nearly collapsed, but somehow he survived. The Titan’s rune recognized him. It reforged his bones, hardened his skin, and gave him strength enough to lift boulders like pebbles.”

The illusion shifted again, showing the man standing tall, his body glowing faintly with rune‑marks. His tribe’s enemies fled before him. He built cities, carved fortresses, and ruled as a king.

“They called him the Stone‑Bearer,” Isylia said, her voice mocking but tinged with respect. “He united many mortals under his banner. For a time, he was unstoppable. But…” She snapped her fingers, and the illusion darkened. The man’s body cracked, his rune‑marks glowing too brightly. His flesh split, his bones shattered.

“He died screaming,” she finished coldly. “Because mortals are not meant to carry Titan weight forever. The rune consumed him from within. His empire crumbled. His name became legend, but his body became dust.”

Sol swallowed hard, his throat dry. “So… he became a king, a legend… and then burned out.”

Isylia smirked. “Exactly. That is the fate of greedy mortals who reach too high. You may rise, bug, but you will fall. And when you do, it will be spectacular.”

Sol clenched his fists, defiance burning in his eyes. “Then I’ll rise higher, so high, that there isn’t any chance of failure.”

Isylia laughed, the sound echoing like cracking stone. “Dream, bug. Dream. It makes your inevitable failure so much more entertaining.”