The Art of War 1/2
Percy looked down at the scattered children of Ares with ease, a faint hint of interest in his expression.
"Mmm… I feel like I'm getting stronger way too fast these past few days," he said, noticing how easily he had defeated the campers. Thinking back to Luke's ship, he had also taken down groups of his men without much effort, even when they were accompanied by monsters… and he had been a little annoyed. Just a little. Because of Annabeth's kidnapping. He had really wiped them all out, even with monsters on their side, which by now should all be in Tartarus thanks to him.
That also made him think about the disappearance of his runic tattoos, the ones that had turned him into a dragon priest capable of using the Thu'um without spending years studying even a single word. It didn't feel like that power was gone. Even now, if he wanted to, he could let out a shout without any difficulty. But it still felt strange. It was the same… yet different.
"Well, whatever. I'll ask the master later," he said, brushing it off as he sheathed his sword and turned toward the camp, where Annabeth and the others were probably already warning everyone about Luke and his army.
Just as he took a step, he suddenly felt a faint tremor in the ground.
So he glanced down for a moment… then slowly turned, realizing the tremor was coming from the forest behind him.
As he faced it, he heard someone running toward him at full speed. He narrowed his eyes, watching between the trees… until a figure burst out, one he recognized instantly.
"Clarisse? Didn't you get here before us?" Percy said as he saw her sprinting straight toward him.
She noticed him too, and there was clear urgency on her face. But when she saw him, she actually smiled slightly.
Which was… weird. Clarisse smiling at him.
"Good, seaweed brain. You distract it, I'll get help," she said, running right past him without slowing down for even a second.
"What?" Percy blinked, confused, as she left those words behind. But the tremor was becoming stronger… and it was coming from exactly where Clarisse had run from.
So Percy turned back toward the forest.
And saw the trees starting to fall as something massive tore through them, at least half a dozen heads roaring and hissing like serpents.
Then, suddenly, a massive hydra burst out of the forest, its heads roaring toward Clarisse… before noticing someone who smelled far more appetizing standing right in front of it.
So it stopped abruptly.
All its heads slowly turned toward Percy from different angles.
Percy, in turn, looked up at them.
And casually raised his hand in a small wave.
"What's up…? I'm kind of a fan of monster donuts," he said, faintly remembering his encounter with the hydra in the swamp.
"GROWWW…" the multiple heads roared at him from all directions.
"Sorry, didn't know this was a different franchise," he added, covering his ears slightly.
Suddenly, one of the heads lunged at him.
Percy quickly pulled Riptide from his pocket and blocked the creature's jaws, but the size and strength were on a completely different level. His body was pushed backward as the other heads attacked at the same time from different angles, like they were trying to tear him apart and eat him piece by piece.
Percy rolled across the ground, dodging as the heads slammed into the earth trying to catch him.
"I don't like Clarisse anymore…" Percy muttered as he kept rolling, avoiding the relentless strikes of the serpent heads.
He pushed himself up with his arms, rising in one swift motion, twisting his body to the side to avoid another head trying to swallow him whole. With his sword, he cut through it cleanly, as if slicing through butter.
The hydra let out a low roar of pain, stepping back slightly. But as if it had only felt a minor hit, it steadied itself and shook the severed neck.
Then, from that same neck, two new heads began to grow rapidly.
"Ah… right. I'm an idiot," Percy said as he watched two heads replace the one he had just cut.
"GRAAAAAA…" the new head roared along with the others, and once again they attacked him from every direction.
…
Annabeth ran alongside Grover and Tyson straight toward the camp, where the campers were already moving everywhere with urgency, fully armed, carrying swords that looked almost brand new. Most of them were gathered near the training grounds, sparring with each other as if they had been preparing for a war even before the three of them arrived.
For a moment, that threw both Annabeth and Grover off. They had come to warn everyone to prepare for battle… but it didn't even seem necessary. In fact, it felt like they were being completely ignored, as everyone remained fully focused on their tasks.
The sound of the forges echoed through the camp, with blacksmiths hammering away at steel, crafting more weapons and arrows while reinforcing armor.
Apollo's children could be seen running all over the place, carrying backpacks filled with clinking vials, handing out red and green potions to campers who got injured during training.
There was even a table at the center of the camp, with a full map laid out, where several of the older children of Athena were gathered, calmly planning defensive strategies.
This didn't feel like Camp Half-Blood…
It felt like they had just walked into a military outpost.
"Mmm… you're back," a voice said, drawing the attention of the three of them, especially Tyson, who looked up to see Miraak sitting on top of Cabin Three, the Poseidon cabin, casually holding a can of beer, lightly shaking it.
"Master," Tyson said, clearly happy to see him.
"Mmm…" Miraak simply hummed, not showing much emotion, though there was a faint trace of a smile on his lips as he saw his student was unharmed. He could sense Percy nearby, so it seemed they had survived that dangerous mission.
Annabeth shook her head, snapping out of her surprise at how much the camp had changed in just a little over two weeks. But that wasn't what mattered right now.
"This is urgent. We're under attack. Luke is planning to launch an assault on the camp," Annabeth shouted quickly.
The campers paused slightly and looked at her for a moment.
"Oh, we know," one of them said, before everyone immediately went back to what they were doing.
"What?" Annabeth blinked, confused.
"The one who controls information controls the war. That's what Mr. Miraak, the activities director, taught us," he said proudly, glancing up at Miraak with admiration.
Miraak didn't seem to care much. But attracting followers was something that happened around him even without trying. There was a reason a cult had eventually formed around him in Solstheim.
He was just fulfilling the mission he had accepted, and teaching a few things to the brats so they would stop bothering him wasn't particularly troublesome.
"How do you know?" Annabeth asked.
"Spies inside the camp. Who else? They think we're unaware of them… but we've been playing them the whole time," said what seemed to be one of Aphrodite's daughters, a faint, almost wicked smile on her face.
If Percy had been there, he probably would've said, "Wow… the master corrupted everyone way too fast."
But luckily, he wasn't… or he'd get hit for saying something like that.
Before Annabeth could say anything else, Bronte approached with her group of archers, all of them looking completely exhausted.
"They're here," she said sharply, her tone serious.
The moment those words were heard, the entire camp sprang into motion, moving with precision and speed, leaving Tyson, Grover, and Annabeth standing in the center, completely lost.
"I don't understand what's going on…" Grover said, looking at Bronte, who was breathing heavily as Apollo's children handed her several potions. She downed them in one go, and her body seemed to recover instantly, regaining all the energy she had lost.
"I see…" Annabeth said, her eyes glowing faintly. "They were putting on a show."
She watched as the archers swapped their equipment for something far more refined… and clearly more powerful. Their arrows gleamed with a faint silver light, and their bows looked almost like glass, yet far stronger than what they had been using before.
"So… are we even necessary?" Tyson asked quietly.
That was when both Grover and Annabeth realized it.
Every camper there… was far more prepared than they were.