The Art of War 2/2
Luke walked toward Half-Blood Hill, his gaze falling on Thalia's tree, barely clinging to life. The surrounding plants were just as dry, making it clear the tree had been sustaining the entire area. The barriers had long since been broken, and the monsters at his side stepped forward to confirm it, proving they could pass through without resistance.
Just moments ago, when the camp's archers spotted them, they had fled like cowards, completely exhausted from holding off constant attacks. So Luke took that as a sign of an easy victory, a faint smile forming on his lips.
He could still hear the chimera fighting… maybe against the camp's children, maybe it had already taken most of them down without much trouble.
"It's time to end this. Find the Fleece. And if anyone refuses to join us… kill them," Luke said coldly, his eyes sweeping across his forces.
Demigods who had rejected their parents, now filled with hatred for the Greek pantheon. Monsters that had joined their cause. All under Kronos' banner, waiting for a future where the gods would fall and the Titans would rise again.
Luke raised his hand, ready to give the signal to attack.
But before he could—
A horn echoed.
His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he saw the entire camp marching toward them, fully armed, clad in armor that gleamed under the sunlight. Their weapons looked nothing like the ones he remembered, sharper, more dangerous, with a style that blended Greek design with something else… something both familiar and completely unknown.
Many of those weapons carried a faint glow, as if infused with magic.
And the look in every camper's eyes was different from what he remembered.
Now they looked like warriors ready for battle.
Some of them even looked… excited.
But Percy wasn't among them.
That made Luke frown slightly.
The only familiar figure he spotted was Tyson, Percy's cyclops brother, standing among them with a massive hammer in one hand and a tower shield in the other.
"What a joke…" Luke muttered with faint disdain, seeing what he believed to be a desperate move from the camp. "Attack."
His army surged forward immediately, charging toward the campers with twisted smiles filled with vengeance.
The leader of the camp's forces appeared to be Beckendorf, standing firm with a serious expression as he watched the enemy advance. His armor stood out from the rest, bulkier, a blend of styles that somehow looked far more practical.
He raised his hand.
Bronte and her team of archers immediately drew their bows, aiming toward the sky.
At Beckendorf's signal, they released.
The arrows soared upward.
And then—
A rain of arrows came crashing down over the enemy army.
They quickly raised their shields, but the moment the arrows struck, many cried out in pain as the shafts pierced through, not completely, but enough to drive into their arms.
"AAAH!" they screamed, but before they could recover, a second volley was already falling.
Meanwhile, the rest of the camp held their ground, waiting.
Ready.
Luke was momentarily surprised, but quickly turned toward the Laestrygonians.
"Intercept the arrows. Now," he ordered sharply.
The Laestrygonians, already holding fireballs in their hands, obeyed immediately, launching them into the sky, colliding with the incoming arrows before they could land.
Some still made it through, but their numbers were drastically reduced.
"Move! Attack!" Luke shouted at the soldiers who had hesitated, their arms pierced and trembling from the pain.
With roars of fury, they forced themselves forward, charging again toward the campers.
"Now!" Beckendorf shouted.
At that moment, dozens of seals carved into the ground began to glow along the enemy's path.
Suddenly, pillars of fire erupted violently, forming a blazing wall.
Some managed to stop in time.
Others ran straight through, engulfed in flames, screaming as their allies tried to put them out.
"What are you doing? Attack! Attack!" Luke shouted, seeing his forces hesitate—
Just as another rain of arrows fell over them.
At once, the harpies and hellhounds under his command moved.
The harpies carried objects in their claws that looked like Laestrygonian bombs, and as they flew overhead, they began dropping them toward the campers.
Those that managed to get past the rain of arrows, which struck them and turned many into dust, immediately revealed the campers' true accuracy, forcing them to weave through the air just to avoid each shot.
The hellhounds charged toward the campers and slipped into the shadows, passing through the wall of fire before emerging on the other side and leaping at the nearest targets.
But the campers were ready.
With shields raised, they slammed into the first hellhound, throwing it off balance, then parted just enough to let the spearmen behind them stab it from all sides before slipping back behind the shield bearers once more.
Meanwhile, Annabeth watched everything with surprise, as if it had all been under control from the very start. From the beginning, the battle already seemed tilted in the camp's favor.
Her gaze shifted toward one of her siblings from Athena's cabin, Malcolm Pace, who adjusted his glasses slightly as he observed every detail, as if he were following each step of a plan already laid out, nodding calmly to himself.
He seemed to notice Annabeth's gaze, so he turned slightly toward her and gave a small, proud smile, as if he enjoyed proving his intelligence.
"Why is everyone so useless…?" Luke muttered, clearly annoyed as he watched his forces fail to push forward.
He drew his sword and glanced at Alison. She gave a short nod, and both of them moved, charging straight into the battle. The rest of the soldiers, seeing their leader step in, couldn't stay behind and quickly followed.
Alison moved across the battlefield, dodging arrows effortlessly. Her entire body was pure speed and precision.
Meanwhile, Luke advanced, deflecting arrows with his sword as if it took no effort at all. The two of them reached the wall of flames created by the fire seals.
Without slowing down, Luke drove his sword into the ground and dragged it forward, lifting a surge of earth into the flames, disrupting the seal from below while partially smothering the fire.
The seal flickered for a moment.
Luke jumped through the flames, using the lifted earth as partial cover, emerging on the other side with his clothes slightly burned. Alison followed right behind him.
The shield bearers on the other side reacted instantly, charging forward to slam them back into the fire.
But Luke lowered his stance slightly, and Alison used his back as a stepping point, launching herself upward over one of the shield bearers. She locked her legs around his head and twisted, bringing him down with ease. Before even landing, she threw the daggers in her hands, embedding them into three spearmen who were about to strike her.
Then Luke appeared beside her, blocking two incoming spears and cutting their wielders down in one swift motion.
Everyone froze for a split second.
Their defense… had just been broken by two people.
But they quickly refocused and surrounded them.
Alison's daggers returned to her hands, and instead of targeting the enemies around her, she aimed toward Bronte and the archers, who were focused on taking down the harpies.
"Watch out!" one of them shouted as the daggers flew toward them with terrifying control and precision.
The archers turned—
Two of them were struck in the arms, while the rest jumped aside to avoid them.
For a moment, the arrows stopped.
And that was enough.
The harpies in the sky moved closer, dropping the bombs they carried in their claws.
"Shields!" Beckendorf shouted immediately.
The campers with large shields moved quickly, raising them above their heads to block. The bombs hit directly and exploded, but the shields held… barely. Many were damaged, and the campers holding them felt their arms go numb from the force of the blast.
At the same time, the enemy soldiers, seeing that Luke had broken through the flames, began striking the runes on the ground from the other side, shattering the fire seals one by one as the flames started to die out.
Now…
They had a clear path.
Seeing this, Beckendorf and Malcolm didn't look concerned at all, as if they had already expected it.
Then Beckendorf gave the signal.
"Attack!"
The campers who had been waiting surged forward immediately.
Now…
The real battle had begun.