Chapter Twelve
The image turned, and Zoe saw the largest army she had ever seen before. Hundreds of thousands of monsters wore mismatched armour and carried crude weapons. Titans crowed for blood, while Giants stomped to war. When the image turned back to Percy's army, it was a wide shot. His army was by far smaller, maybe only ten thousand strong, but it was well armed, well armoured, and very clearly well trained. Zoe saw phalanxes of Cyclopes, cohorts of Telekhines, battalions of archers, and troops of cavalry. Khaos was right. This would be the bloodiest war in centuries.
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Percy didn't know why Perses and Krios had chosen now to attack, he truly didn't. They had been in a cold war of sorts for almost a millennium, but here they were, their unruly hordes of monsters barely being restrained for launching themselves at him. In a way, it was touching. They finally saw him as a large enough threat. He wondered if had anything to do with the Menoetius incident several years prior.
"They'll be attacking soon," Pallas murmured by his side, leaning on a large great sword, "neither Perses nor my uncle will be able to restrain their monsters for much longer."
"That's good," he replied, "it means they won't be able to organise anything other than waves upon waves of attacks. Makes it easier to plan a counter attack."
"We're still outnumbered ten to one, my lord," Pallas reminded him gently, "we can't afford to become arrogant."
Percy grinned at the Titan, not that he could see it under his helmet.
"Pallas, my friend, is it arrogance if I can back it up?"
"Yes," the Titan said simply, "it's just arrogance with basis in fact. Iapetus would tell you the same thing, if he were here."
It was true. Bob was Percy's most cautious advisor, mostly because someone needed to temper his seat-of-the-pants plans. That was also why Percy left Bob in charge of Enotita. He would have the patience to withstand a siege in a way that none of his other leaders would. For a man nicknamed 'The Piecer', Bob was a very calm Titan.
"Movement, sire," Lelantos told him, his large longbow in his hand, "they move to attack."
"Good. Good," Percy muttered, before turning to his army.
"A thousand years ago, I was banished to Tartarus," he began, his voice carrying over the field, "it was a punishment of the worst kind for a demigod. A death sentence. But I refused to die. I refused because I have a greater purpose. You. All of you are my purpose. You've lived thousands of years, knowing only death and violence, a vicious cycle that should never have been allowed to continue. That is why I'm here. I've created a home for you, one where you don't have to fear for your life! Enotita wasn't designed to be a capital, or a stronghold. It was designed to be a home. Your home. Perses and Krios want to take that from you. They want to subject you to eternal war once more. To eternal suffering. Many monsters have joined their cause, thinking it is the only way of life. It breaks my heart. Every life I take breaks my heart. But I love all of you more than I love them. If I had to choose between saving one of you, or a thousand of them, I would choose you always. You are my people, my loyal followers. Will you follow me to war?"
A massive roar was taken up by the army. Percy smiled to himself. Hook, line, and sinker. He pointed his pentadent towards the titanic army.
"Onwards!" He bellowed, "for the future!"
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Athena had to admit, Perseus knew how to give a speech. The confidence he exuded seeped through the screen, and the council knew it. They weren't just watching the Hero of Olympus any more. They were dealing with a general. A statesman. More importantly, something that Athena would never vocalise, lest Poseidon smite her and send her down to join his son, was that they were dealing with the largest threat since Gaea. This was a man who had the potential to unite all of Tartarus.
There were close to a dozen screens, each covering a different portion of the fighting, whether it was the Centaur cavalry, which had slammed into the flanks of the Titan's army, or the Cyclopean phalanxes, which had settled in the middle of the plain, allowing their enemies to throw themselves against a bristling line of spears almost twenty-two feet long each. The cohorts of Telekhines, organised like the Roman legions of old, held the flanks, short gladii shooting out in between the small gaps in their tall tower shields, and Dracanae archers fired volleys of arrows over the heads of their troops, raining death down on the reinforcements.
In the middle of it all was Perseus, and watching him fight, she came to one realisation, something she had denied herself for far too long, and now it was too late to utilise it.
He was by far any army's' greatest asset. Almost two hundred monsters had charged him, fearlessly believing they had the advantage. They didn't. His pentadent was an extension of him, and he wielded it with the same skill that Poseidon wielded his Trident. He jabbed, blocked, impaled, countered and killed with it. That was when she came to her second realisation.
The Olympians no longer had anyone who could match him.
Once, there were a few who could have subdued Perseus, should the need arrive. The Big Three, of course, but also Ares, Artemis, and, should the need arise, herself. Out of a dozen Olympians, only six of them could have matched him, and they would have struggled. No longer. This was a man who had fought hordes of monsters and slaughtered them with ease. This was a Titan-Killer. How may Titans had the Gods killed? One? Two? The same amount as this demigod, then.
Demigods watched in amazement as Perseus cut his way through the monsters. He was clearing a path to Perses. Before he could reach the Titan, however, a massive body intercepted him, slamming into him with a war-hammer of immense proportions. Athena's eyes widened. Atlas.
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Admittedly, it had been a while since Percy had been hit that hard. The strength required to pull that strike off only left one possible opponent. He slammed into the back of a cyclops, using the butt spike of his pentadent to kill it before rolling to his feet. As he suspected, Atlas was marching on him, a blood-thirsty grin on his face.
Percy slammed his pentadent into the ground, causing an earthquake around him which wiped out a cluster of the enemy forces, creating a large circle of corpses around him. He drew his Tartarean Silver sword and flicked his wrist, making sure he had the mobility he needed. The Titan of Strength came at him with an overhead strike with his large hammer. Percy dodged to the side and cut a gash along his right arm, causing Atlas to bellow in pain. The Titan swung back with his hammer, grazing Percy's chest, forcing him to stumble back a step.
Atlas capitalised on this, and launched himself at Percy, trying to ram him in the gut with the head of his hammer. Percy managed to lower his shield in time, but the impact sent him flying back again. This time, however, he landed on his feet, already moving forward to challenge the Titan again.
"I knew I should have killed you instead of my bastard daughter," Atlas growled, and Percy froze, his anger beginning to overtake him.
"Truly is a shame," Percy agreed, "because then I wouldn't have done this."
Atlas opened his mouth, but suddenly, his leg jerked to the side, breaking loudly and sharply, the bone breaking through the skin. Atlas cried out in pain, but Percy wasn't done. His left elbow faced a similar fate, as did his right shoulder. Atlas dropped to a knee, trying to rise on his war-hammer. His bones were already healing, but by that point, it was too late. Percy rammed the rim of his shield into the Titan's throat, before slamming the flat of it into his face. The Titan fell to the ground, and Percy whistled loudly. There was brief rumbling before a large hellhound emerged from the shadows nearby, bounding over to him and giving him a big lick.
"Hey, Mrs. O'Leary," Percy laughed, before pointing at the Titan, "take him to Bob, yeah? You can do that for me can't you, you big, beautiful girl?"
Mrs. O'Leary barked loudly, before snatching the Titan up in her maw, vanishing back into the shadows. Percy sheathed his sword and stuck his hand out. Several dozen yards away, his pentadent began shaking before it flew out of the ground, straight into his hand. Centuries ago, Percy had asked Perthos to hollow out the interior of the shaft and fill it with water. That meant that Percy could summon his weapon to him at will. He had the same thing done with both his Xiphos' and his shield. The latter part made him feel like Captain America on occasion.
Percy cleared his head and marched on, cutting down monster after monster as he pushed his way to Perses and Krios, who weren't too far from him anymore. They both looked a fair bit nervous. Not that he blamed them, he had just demolished one of the more powerful Titans, and a renowned warrior. He had also already beat one of them in single combat before, and if Jason could beat Krios at fifteen, then Percy would destroy him now.
A pair of Cyclopes rushed him, but they were intercepted by two of Percy's own guard, who quickly engaged them in battle. His pentadent flicked to the right, opening up the stomach of an Empousa, which promptly wailed in pain. Percy ignored it, eyes set straight on Krios and Perses, who were now looking very nervous.
Percy planted his foot in the ground and launched his pentadent, the force catching Perses unaware, the Titan suddenly finding himself pinned to a boulder. Krios' eyes widened in shock, but by the time he realised what had happened, it was too late for him. Percy was already on the attack. He didn't even bother using any weapons, instead tackling Krios to the ground, ramming his elbow into the Titan's throat. His Trench-Xiphos materialised in his hand, and he brought it down straight away, trying to go for the throat again. Krios reached up and tried to fight him.
Percy wasn't having any of it. He slammed the Titan's hands aside, and pushed down on the pommel of the sword, punching straight through the Titan's throat. Krios gurgled, and then died. It wasn't drawn out, and it wasn't particularly painful for him. That was being saved for Perses, who was breathing heavily as he tried to pull Percy's pentadent out of his torso.
"Let me help you," Percy snarled at him, yanking the weapon out with a violent tug. The Titan dropped to the ground, trying to pull himself up to fight. He never got the chance. Percy swung his pentadent like a baseball bat, the shaft connecting with Perses' temple, knocking him clean out.
He grabbed the unconscious Titan by his wrist and began dragging him up a nearby hill. Once he reached the top, he caused the most powerful earthquake he could muster, bringing the fighting to a standstill as monsters and Titans, both friend and foe, regained their balance. All eyes went to where Percy was, holding a now-conscious Perses in a death-grip.
"This fighting is needless," Percy declared, "Krios is dead. Atlas is in a cell, and Perses will spend the rest of his days hanging over the void. Surrender now, and live. Should you choose to keep fighting, however… well, the result won't be pretty. This is your only warning."
There was a moment of silence. Then the first weapon was thrown to the ground.
MMMXVIII
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! While Percy has defeated the largest army in Tartarus, and decapitated most of the resistance against him, he hasn't won the war yet. There are still holdouts and other fortresses that need to be taken. We'll see, or rather hear, about those conquests over the next few chapters, as we get a glimpse into the domestic life in Tartarus, and the result of the Olympians and their children watching as Percy absolutely RektTMthree Titans.
I also have deleted Hail to the King, as it's been up long enough for people to know to read this story.
Cheers, CombatTombat
