Pigs on the Seventh
The entrance to the Labyrinth glowed bright blue, accompanied by the onimus rumbling of the earth, even Percy , could tell that disaster was brewing. The Campers were in complete disarray, not only were there holes in their ranks, but there was also a lot of confusion, no one had expected the attack to come so soon. The campers were caught completely off guard, and were a lingering aura of panic in the air as the ground continued to rumble.
Finally, with a deafening bang, the entrance to the Labyrinth erupted. First to emerge were laestrygonians giants who towered above the treetops. They ran around with their arms waving about, slamming archers out of the trees, before being brought down by the roaring catapults.
"RELOAD!" Beckendorf ordered, as his siblings scrambled to crank up their catapults.
For a moment, absolute silence enveloped the camp, save for the groans and cries from the fallen archers. All knew that this was but the first of many attacks. For the second time of the day, Nico drew his spear from the shadows.
More yelling erupted from the gaping tunnel, this time a lot shrieker and greater in number. As Nico guessed, the giants were shock troops to disrupt the campers, the real battle is yet to come.
In the darkness, Nico could make out hundreds of Dracaenae and a good dozen of Cyclopes, and many more after them. As their battle cries grew louder, Nico readied his stance.
He cannot afford to exhaust himself on the small fry, Nico had a feeling he would need his strength later on. He thrusted his spear into the first Dracaenae to emerge from the tunnel, before drawing his twin swords.
He sprung around, cutting down monsters dozens at a time. Taking advantage of his unbreakable blades, he tore through the rudimentary armor of the Dracaenae like it was made of paper, sweeping around in a flowing motion and the momentum of his blades did the work for him. Nico became a meat grinding machine, shredding any monster that came within three feet of him.
Even with Nico's prowess, the never-ending onslaught of monsters drove him back, step by step, closer and closer to the phalanx of the campers, who were barely holding their own with the oncoming army. The demigods spread out into a single line spanning the entire clearing behind Nico, each fighting with all their might to hold the line.
After what seemed like an externality, the onslaught of monster thinned and it seemed like all hope was not lost. Everyone could've imagined an end to all this deadly dance.
"Contact! Movement in the North! They are coming from the beaches!"
Nico cursed as he risked a glance to the northern woods. Sure enough there were trails of dust flying high leading from the beaches.
The next moment, a line of chariots emerged from the thick woods. They knocked down the rows of trees as they went. They were each drawn by four stallions darker than midnight, decked from mane to hoof with black spiked armor. Behind them were two charioteers, one tended the horses, the other bore sabres and lances. Above them flew a blood red banner, with Luke's sword, Backbiter as its sigil. The chariots stormed across the clearing like thunderclouds on the ground, terrifying and nearly unstoppable.
The first stallion rammed into a son of Ares, and the entire camp stared in horror as the bulky demigod was torn to shreds by the mount's spiked armor. The demigod's broken body tumble on the ground for a few feet before being grinded to a gory mush under the iron-clad hooves of the cavalry.
Nico thrusted out his arms and tried to hold the chariots back by their armor, the first few horses tripped and stumbled, but as the next dozen pulled up from the forest, he knew he could not stop them all.
The camper line crumbled.
Monsters shrieked in glee, seeing that their prey were on the run, and gave chase to the fleeing campers, picking of the slow and wounded one after another. At first Nico could pull the stumbled campers to safety by their armor, but before long the war horses— the same ones that drew the chariots, with the same spiked armor— caught up and proceeded to munch on the retreating demigods.
First it was a daughter of Aphrodite. She screamed at the top of her lungs when she stumbled, her face grew even paler shrouded by her imminent death. A stallion trampled through her chest and went on galloping, leaving a giant hole in her broken frame. She was gone.
Clarisse shrieked, "NO, YOU STINKING ANIMAL! I'LL FRIGGIN' KILL YOU!"
She threw her spear at the creature that trampled the daughter of Aphrodite. It struck true. The beast went down with a horrific neigh. But Clarisse was far from done.
"ARES, ON ME!" She tossed a length of rope to one of her brothers, and drawn it taut, before crouching down on either side of the closest stallion. It tripped and disintegrated when hitting the ground.
Many other Ares campers joined in, each pair with a length of rope, each pair bring down one charge at a time.
Nico risked a glance back at them, the war cabin. They were falling behind. Ten feet, twenty, thirty. Yet they made no sign of catching up, or even trying to. They darted left and right to dodge the ironclad hooves and intercept the stallions but little else. They remained where they were as the clamoring monster army inched closer. They held the line.
A demigod, a son of Hermes by his looks, sprinted back to join them, but Clarisse simply waved her hand and shooed him off with the briefest exchange of words. Percy too looked like he was about to join them, but Nico yanked him back.
"Don't." Nico stared at Percy right in the eye, "It's their fight, let's go."
Apart from the rage on Clarisse's face, Nico could find determination. This was not merely revenge for the fallen campers, but also for the protection of others. Nico kept his eyes on the cabin, until they were submerged by the waves of monsters.
Glancing back, Nico could see a failing hand, not covered in monster scales, or tipped with talons— a demigod hand— reached up, to the clear blue sky.
From that failing hand, she threw it; it sailed through the air towards Nico. He turned around and caught it, without pausing to check what it was, without thinking about it. He held it high.
The rest of the campers sprinted all the way to the big house, and immediately shut the door. A silvery barrier rose up around the building and stopped the monster onslaught dead in its tracks. Panting, the demigods all collapsed onto the floor.
Nico took the chance to inspect the object in his hand. It was muddied with blood and soot, but he could make out the outlines of a beaded necklace, the mark of a camper.
Upon wiping off the dirty obscuring the beads, Nico counted twelve beads, for twelve years of service, twelve years of training, twelve years of life in camp. The oldest bead, which was half faded from years of wear, bore Ares' sign, a spear and helmet. Nico didn't know the story of that year, but he knew it had to be a great one.
Slowly, the campers recovered from sprawled out on the floor. They exchanged nervous glances amongst each other, before finally turning their gaze out the window.
Monsters encircled the Big House, but they kept a good distance away, and filled the plot of land right outside the barrier with rings upon rings of barbed wire and spiked trenches save for an opening, which lead right up to the entrance of the Big House.
There was someone standing right in front of the barrier: Luke. He noticed the eyes glaring at him and replied with a smile and a wave, and behind him, from the monster formations, a group of prisoners were brought up next to him.
Gasps echoed through the Big House, it was the Ares Cabin. All thirteen that remained behind to stall the charge, from the glaring Clarisse, to the slightly shaking younger campers. They had their backs slumped and were covered from head to toe with blood and monster dust.
Nico noticed the missing necklace from Clarisse's neck.
Once she laid eyes on Luke, she let loose a string of colorful language.
But she was immediately silenced by a punch to the gut. She spat out a lump of blood that missed Luke by inches.
"You gods dammed traitor. You son of a biscuit. How dare you lead them here? The place that took you in?"
Luke remained stoic, although there was a hint of pain hidden in his neutral expression. "I do not want this, every drop of demigod blood spilled is a waste!" he proclaimed, "You are offered a path to more than salvation, but of infinite power and glory as well. Surrender, or rather, join our cause, we will wipe out those trenterous gods once and for all, and take their place as oligarchs of the world."
"Shame on you!" Clarisse bellow from behind him, "How dare you tear your HOME apart for some quest for power and glory? Where'd you get the friggin' nerve?"
Luke sighed, and turned towards Clarisse with a tiny smile, "I do not want to kill you, nor do I want to force you into doing anything." He switched into a dangerous tone, "But, to ensure that you will not interfere with the grand scheme of things, we have to take certain… precautions." He snapped his fingers and a brigade of demigods, dressed in cavalry armor, marched forward beside them. They took out wooden daggers, coated with deep green poison, and held them behind each captive.
"I will ask you one final time, will you join us? Do hurry up, because this is the ultimatum." Luke was dead serious, his scar seemed to come alive on his face.
As expected, he received a clear and collective "NO!"
All at once, the executioners plunged their daggers into their captives. All five inches dug in deep in their shoulders, not a killing strike, but it was enough to make them fall to the floor writhing, their mouths foam. Nico and the rest of the campers stood from the front porch and watched helplessly. Luke wasn't much better, he had his brow in a knot but never lifted his eyes from the struggling figure on the ground.
"I wouldn't have resulted to such… unsightly measures, if I had any other choice." He paced around, hands fidgeted around ceaselessly.
Finally, when the effect of the poison subsided and the Ares cabin got back on their feet shakily, there was a collective sigh of relief from the campers, and from Luke as well.
"What, in Hades, have you done with us?" Clarisse asked through gritted teeth.
Luke drew a bronze sword from one of his bodyguards, and strolled towards her, "Allow me to show you."
She struggled violently as Luke approached, but her strength was long gone.
Twenty paces, she elbowed the guard behind her, he barely flinched.
Eighteen paces, the guard punched her in the gut, she doubled over, gasping for air.
Fifteen paces, she kicked and thrashed, her arms getting heavier by the moment.
Twelve paces, the campers rush to the barrier, desperately clawing to save them, to no avail.
Ten paces, Clarisse stopped moving, and stared blankly at the approaching Luke.
Eight paces, she steeled her nerves and that glare returned to her eyes.
Five paces, Clarisse turned back towards the Big House, for afar, it seems like she was the only thing standing between Luke and the campers.
One final breath, she roared with all of her siblings.
"We are the Dead, short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie."
Three paces,
"If ye break faith with us who die, we will not sleep."
Then all as one, the Ares cabin drew a collective sigh of relief, their faces content.
When he brought down the sword, Clarisse closed her eyes and waited for the dark embrace of death.