Faceless Titan Novels & Stories

A pretty face like Waltz was only suitable for use at night. Countless beast-like existences were present among the tauren, but they did not seem to have an intelligence of their own. When they saw the tauren boss fighting, they just stared with wide eyes, and nodded, but didn’t step up to help him. Nonetheless, those with weaker cultivation would be of no help in a battle at this level. “Step aside! Let me do it!” The Titan Princess with the Undead Queen’s face was wielding a huge hammer. It was the supreme weapon of their race. She viciously smashed the heads of the tauren that were disturbed by various negative statuses.

“You’re no ordinary kid. Who are you?!” Damn it! Tuckson had not mentioned that the person he was to kill possessed such abilities! “Just a countryside kid repaying his mentor’s debt,” Kayson said before he went up, planning to finish Titus off from a close distance. A flurry of expressions washed over Titus’ face as he snarled, “I refuse to believe that you’d break through my steelification!” He threw a punch hard as steel at Kayson. “Do you think it’d be tough to crack your tortoise shell?”

He was huge in size, eight feet tall, with broad shoulders enough to block the light of the day and arms spread like tree trunks. Scars etched all over his body which told stories of countless battles he had won. But it wasn’t his size that froze me. It was the emptiness in his eyes. Cold. Unflinching. Merciless. I raised my hands, hoping my silver aura would slow him down, make him hesitate. It didn’t. Not a flicker. Not even acknowledgment that I existed. “He can’t feel it,” I whispered, dread creeping in. Raven’s laugh was low and cruel. “Correct. Titan is immune to your gift. Rare, but not unheard of among wolves who survive long in the wild. You’ll have to fight him the old way.”

It was horribly impersonal, lacking any trace of memory or childhood. Even under the dim light that sat against the wall of his house, I could see his sharp jawline. The light did no favors for his platinum hair, turning it into a washed-out shade of yellow. Even in the horrible light, Atlas held a certain kind of beauty that was rare in this world. His porcelain skin was blemish free, his face smooth and unyielding. His body was chiseled from marble, hard and stoic as he stood before Alyssa. His full lips were bright with color, but pulled down in what looked to be the start of a snarl.

The one that would either break him completely or finally make him whole. Lightning flashed across the open marble platform at the top. In the middle stood the Titan, nine feet of pure muscle and glowing power. His skin shone with silver light. Between his legs hung the biggest cock Torvald had ever seen. Even soft, it was thick and heavy, longer than his arm. As Torvald watched, it grew hard, rising up like a thick, veiny monster. The fat head leaked shiny drops that glowed in the dark. The Titan looked at him with burning eyes. “Little king, you dare come here?” his voice boomed like thunder. “This cock has broken stronger men than you.”

Something that didn't belong in a "Real World." A **Titan** stepped out of the shadows. It was thirty feet tall, its body made of rusted iron and pulsing violet tubes. It had the face of a man, but the eyes were giant searchlights. On its chest, a large silver logo was etched into the metal: **AETHEL-GROUP: ASSET RECOVERY**. "Subject 01 and Donor 04," the Titan’s voice boomed, sounding like a thousand speakers blowing out at once. "You have exceeded your 'Independence' quota. Please remain still while your 'Conflict Data' is harvested."