A/N: Thanks for the all the support. Especially those who have reviewed, followed or favorited.

Good news, I'm back to my usual posting time on Mondays.

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.

Chapter 30

Victory

Damian

They marched at dusk. Six-thousand warriors dressed in black, sweeping through the lands like an endless shadow with only one goal in mind—to vanquish the darkness. If it is said to fight fire with fire, why not fight darkness with darkness—at least that's what Larissa had said with that wild grin of hers.

Damian had watched her train. She moved at speeds that were unheard of for a human. A weapon, honed to perfection. He wondered, for a time, if she could have been a demigod. The signs were there, the reflexes. But she had proudly claimed to be descended from two ancient lines of Theban warriors. A worthy ally—questionable morals aside. She fought for what was right and as she had been so appropriately titled, with the ferocity of a lion.

Their army had been spotted by weary travelers and villagers alike. Those fortunate enough to survive the attacks that had come but unfortunate enough not to be corralled to safety. Their party was always met with the same wide-eyed retreat. Was it fear or hope? He could not tell. Regardless, news of their advance would travel fast. And he hoped that amongst the recipients would be Calista and Alexo and that they'd join them on the battlefield.

A notion hinged completely on faith. A week could never be enough to lead a successful coup then mobilize an army. Perhaps if they had waited a couple days. Perhaps then they could have marched with twice the strength. But no word of a coup had reached Thebes's rangers—not yet at least. And hoping had always been a fool's errand in times of war. Plan for the worst. Pray for the best.

"What are those?" Larissa asked, pulling Damian out of his thoughts. She was pointing towards the mountain peaks or more precisely, the dark figures that circled them.

"Those weren't there before." Damian squinted. They were far too large to be birds. And the thought sent his mind racing. One look at Chloe said it all. They both feared the same.

If those creatures were the same ones that had pursued Percy and Thalia…

This battle would be destined for calamity. Damian did not doubt the thousands of men and women that marched with him. In fact, he held them in immense regard. To abandon their fortress and fight for not only the safety of their home, but for that of the entire country—the only ones capable and willing. For that alone, they were heroes in his book.

Yet, regardless of it all, even if a handful of them were to be compromised, the army would tear itself to shreds from within. And that was if Percy's tales were greatly exaggerated. Now, having gotten to truly know him, Damian was sure of the opposite.

"I don't like that look," Larissa butted in. "Talk to me. Is our plan dead."

"Not here," Damian whispered, signaling her aside. With them, Chloe, and Zandra. "We can't abandon our plan now. The terrain is our only ally. And an army of monsters is not a silent one. We should be able to maintain the element of surprise once we deal with those creatures."

"Then we fortify the archers," Zandra suggested.

"Agreed," added Chloe.

Larissa, who had seemed lost in thought, her gaze drifting to her soldiers, spoke. "You have not answered my earlier question, Polemarch. I will not commit my people without knowing what it is you are keeping from me."

Damian and Chloe exchanged looks. Sighing, Damian began, "If those creatures are what I fear them to be, we'll need everything you got. They have power over one's fear and with it the ability to drive a man to insanity in moments."

"The people of Thebes have no fear. We do not even know what the word means."

"Good," Damian nodded. "Let's keep it that way."

"I do not appreciate lying to my people," said Larissa, holding his gaze. Was that a flicker of worry he had seen?

"You will appreciate it even less when your soldiers go berserk and kill each other." Damian countered. A little harsh perhaps, but the point needed getting across. "This knowledge will only make them more susceptible. Better we avoid spreading fear and uncertainty."

If it were even possible, Larissa paled and when her voice came, it was like she was an entirely different person. Her façade crumbling. "My sister…she insisted on fighting. I begged her not to. Should I reassign her?"

So that was who Larissa had been looking for in the crowd. And it was that thought that sparked the connection. Her sister was the guard that had been assigned to them, Lysandra. They had the same sort of combustious energy to them. That and the matching auburn hair. Damian considered the matter for a long moment.

"No," said Damian, wanting to comfort her but at the same time apprehensive of how she might react. He did not know her. Not truly. Thankfully for him, Zandra was here, her hand braced against the Archon's shoulder. "Even with those creatures, there is nowhere safer than with the archers. The rest of us will be in the thick of it. Unless you assign her to the rear of the shield wall of course."

"That she would never accept," Lysandra smiled. That wild look of hers returning. "She and I are far too alike."

"I figured," Chloe offered a smile of her own.

"Then," Lysandra turned to Zandra. "Fortify the archers we will. What can we spare?"

"We can round up a few. Say...two-hundred?"

"That should do," said Damian, his attention back to the creatures soaring through the sky. "Four lines of archers, and three lines of hoplites. Station the hoplites as such-" Damian drew his sword and carved the lines in the dirt. "One line on either side of the archers while the last forms in between them. This way, the archers will be protected if any creatures break through our pincer."

Chloe caught his attention with the slightest of touches. Her delicate finger's brushing against his. A silent reminder that she'd be there every step of the way. He returned the comfort.

"This is it," whispered Chloe for his ears alone. "Our chance to strike back. We'll make it count for those we have lost and those we have yet to lose."

"For Dorian," Damian breathed.

They had arrived. A vast, unending shadow at the foot of a vast, unending mountain. A battle of behemoths. The plan would work, Damian chanted the words in his mind. It had to. Chloe, himself, and the entire Theban council had burnt a night pouring over every scenario. A night that could have seen them marching earlier for victory. A night where innocents had surely paid the ultimate price-

Damian drew a deep breath to draw himself away from that dark thought.

The plan would work.

It was simple in its complexity. A three-pronged attack. Two halves of a pincer and one fluid blade that would sweep through it. The squadron of archers would make up the first half of the pincer. Nestled between the mountains was a plateau perfect for their needs. The other half was made of a large bulk of the Theban forces. A shield wall across the natural pathway into the mountain range. One that would push back against the swarm of retreating creatures. The only flaw of their pincer being that shield walls, thought highly effective, were also highly susceptible to being crushed in one fell swoop. All it would take were a couple of creatures of the larger variety. That was where the blade came in. An elite force formed from the sacred band and those who remained. The hope was that the aforementioned colossals would be slower or more reluctant to fall back when death rained on them which would leave them ripe for the picking.

Chloe, having sensed his worry as she always did, offered her words. "Hey, it'll work. It's a plan worthy of Annabeth. And for once, the fates seem to be on our side."

Damian would never go as far as to say that. But perhaps she was right. Things were actually going better than anticipated. The rarest of occurrences. Having closed the distance to their enemy, they had confirmed the winged creatures from before to be only harpies. Deadly, of course, but at least only physically.

Harpies were similar enough in appearance to the winged demons that plagued Percy and Thalia. But where those had veiny, leathery wings, these had ones of a brown feather-like material. And most noticeably, were the almost human-like faces that were a far cry from the malformed desolation of their demonic counterparts.

Damian took one last sweeping glance of the terrain. The archers were in position and keeping a watchful eye on the harpies that circled high above. On his signal, which he would only give once the shield wall had formed, they would rain death upon the valley. The trouble being that from here, the timing was a guess at best. Larissa however was confident of her estimate and Damian was inclined to believe her unyielding confidence. Knowing the lay of the land was a prerequisite of being a ranger, which she claimed to have been the very best of before her ascent to Archon.

A glance over his shoulder revealed the sacred band sprawled behind him in their oddly sparse formations of two. In each pair, not an inch of worry. Only acceptance of the inevitable fact that at the end of this battle they would remain in each other's embrace. Dead or alive. That was their pact. Damian attempted it. That look of acceptance. Perhaps it would help ease Chloe's worries. A moment was all he managed. How could he not worry for her? She who was his entire world. Before he broke completely, he pulled her in, planting a light kiss on her forehead.

"Take care of yourself," he managed.

"We'll take care of each other," Chloe replied. "But you have to trust that we both have what it takes to fend for ourselves. We defend each other out of love and necessity not out of fear. That's what makes them so formidable," she gestured to the sacred band with a tilt of her chin.

"I'll try my best," said Damian, this time planting a kiss on her lips. "It's about time. We should get in position."

"Here," said Chloe, her delicate fingers adjusting the straps of his armor. Her face was not an inch from his—their breaths mingling—the faint smell of roses, intoxicatingly refreshing. It took all of his restraint not to kiss her again. If he allowed himself to indulge, the battle would have never begun. Instead, he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear—his knuckles brushing against her cheek. She leaned into the touch with a soft smile.

"We should probably stop now."

"I know," Damian pouted. "But I don't want to."

"Me neither," she whispered, slowly pulling herself away from his touch.

Damian tore his gaze away from her radiant beauty, expecting the rest of the forces to be making looks at their antics. What he found instead were hundreds of soldiers clearly indulging, Larissa and Zandra included. Perhaps they weren't as rigidly disciplined as he first thought. Perhaps a little spark of their blazing Archon lived in each and every one of them.

Damian cleared his throat. "It's time."

Chloe

Fire! Damian's voice booming through the valley. The first volley of arrows soared through the night, a sheen of metal gleaming in the moonlight. A cacophony followed. The resounding echoes of death. Shrieks, high, and growls, low. Before silence fell came another volley. On and on, a song of sorts. A song that with every note brought harpies flailing to the ground, their wings torn from the onslaught. That was their unit's first task, to finish off the harpies that fell. A simple task for accomplished warriors.

By the time it came for the archers to have to replenish their arrows, the majority of creatures had retreated to what they assumed was safety. In a way, they were right. The safety of a quick death at the hands of four thousand Theban warriors. This left the fields beneath them seemingly and perhaps a little eerily empty. An illusion formed by the swirling dust that had been left in the wake of the creatures' retreat. That and the masses of dead layering the land. But past it all was the looming threat. Rows and rows of cyclopes and Laistrygonian giants that would easily brush off the arrows that peppered their flesh. Their wounds nothing more than the mildest of annoyances. An archer would have to be a lot closer to seriously penetrate their thick flesh-

Chloe stumbled back as a couple of hellhounds emerged from the dust and streamed past her. They were hell bound on revenge, charging up the steep walls that led to the plateau of archers, leaping from ledge to ledge and sending rocks tumbling dangerously close to her. Without a second's thought, Chloe launched her chakrams at them, willing her weapons to defy gravity. First came the softest of thuds, her weapons having met their mark. Then came a series of louder thuds that signaled the hellhound's lifeless descent down the turned to find Larissa's eager gaze.

"Perhaps I've had my eyes set on the wrong Hemitheopolian," she said with a wink, much to Zandra's annoyance. The other hellhound landed close by, a spear in its neck. "Seems like our plan is working. The hoplites are doing as tasked."

"It's only the first wave," Damian shouted over the roar of the oncoming giants. "This will be the real test." And he was right. Now they faced an entire herd of giants without support. The Theban archers would be equally likely to hurt their own from where they were perched. At least once the giants were cleared, then the archers would push forward and bolster their ranks.

"Four soldiers to one beast!" Larissa screamed out the instructions.

Five hundred members of the sacred band and seven-hundred hoplites, but still they only outnumbered the giants four to one. Larissa, Zandra, Damian, and herself were at the forefront of the attack, advancing upon the nearest cyclops. Even with only one eye, cyclopes resembled humans to a closer degree than the Laistrygonians, being less extreme in their vile deformities. Still, what they lacked in ugly, they made up in speed and intelligence, deceptively so.

Chloe could not help the shudder that came when that one larger-than-life eye swept her way. Cyclopes were known to eat their victims. An unwanted reminder of those first creatures she had ever encountered. Those who had torn Theron to shreds and had haunted her. It was one of Chloe's biggest regrets—not shielding Annabeth from the horrors those creatures had enacted on both Theron and their Athenian escorts.

It was that regret that somehow made her not all afraid of the cyclops before her. Chloe slid under the creature's initial swipe and went straight for its legs. Damian was beside her, dealing slower, deeper blows that would maim the creature. Her focus instead was to tire and anger. A frustrated cyclops would be far easier to deal with than one thinking at full capacity.

As though karmically brought upon herself, the creature raised its leg, sending chunks of earth and dust her way. It was in that moment of blindness that Chloe realised how foolish she had been in not being afraid. Fear is what kept one alive—what kept one from being crushed under the weight of a cyclops-

A stab of pain. Blurred vision spinning as she felt herself roll across the ground. Gravel slicing at her bare skin. Then the spinning stopped with a squelch. A wet warmth encompassing her back.

Damian was her only thought, her lungs closing up in fear. Chloe blinked away her temporary blindness and found herself beside a dead hellhound, its belly having bled out from the arrows that were buried in it. Stood, grinning madly above her was her saviour. The Lion of Thebes. She let out a primal battle-cry and jumped back into the fray, whirling through it with her curved hunting daggers.

Chloe remained still. A foolish thing to do, but her eyes had not found Damian's and that—

So much for being the one who'd trust the other. Fortunately for her, there was no longer need for dwelling. Damian was right there, now fighting the neighboring Laistrygonian that had managed to kill two soldiers, their bodies crumpled amongst the enemy corpses. He had it covered, she told herself as she returned to her initial target.

Zandra was in the thick of it, wielding a double-headed axe with a grace that did not at all match the brutal nature of her weapon. She danced around the cyclops's limbs, making great sweeping motions that tore through the creature's flesh. One slice, then a roll, then another slice. On and on she wailed at it. This time, when the creature raised its feet, Chloe threw both her Chakrams into its sole.

The creature froze. Eye blinking at her as if to say, 'how dare you?'

Chloe willed her chakrams to spin deeper—to slice the creature's veins and arteries, and finally it was too much. The cyclops lost its balance, refusing to plant down its wounded leg in fear of the pain. It teetered back and forth, threatening to collapse and flatten her, but there Larissa was again, shoving the creature's other foot so hard that it toppled into the giant that Damian had been fighting.

That caused a chain reaction that led to three other monsters crashing down to the ground and making them much easier kills. Unfortunately, a couple soldiers had been crushed in the process. Chloe winced. Those deaths were on her. A battlefield was no place for a healer. No place at all…but her place was with Damian. That she knew. And there were few who were better suited to battle than him-

Damian emerged from behind his fallen opponent, wiping away the grime and blood on his face while searching for her in panicked darting looks. A small hop and a raised hand caught his attention. He offered her a sad smile before charging towards the next enemy. She followed.

The battle lasted longer than expected. It was all Chloe's worst nightmares come to life in a terrifyingly numbing manner.

Sometimes we have no control of what we feel. Sometimes the pain is too much that numbness is all there is.

Damian's words had never been truer. So much blood had been spilt—the valley so littered with bodies it was difficult to navigate. She did not know at this point if it was friend or foe she trampled on. Her armour, caked in blood from the waist below like every warrior that still stood. Damian was the only thing that kept her going. He had not let her out of his sight since the first cyclops. An impossible task it had been, trying to model themselves after the sacred band. When it came to the brutal simplicity of battle, there was only one thing that came with the numbness. And that was worry. Every moment apart was like being torn limb from limb. Hours passed. Still they fought. Both forces dwindling in number-

Then it came. The final obstacle. One last cyclops that stood between them and the rest of the battle. The thinning of the ranks in the last hours, enough to reveal that the creatures that had been pinned back by the archers still numbered strong. But that did not matter now. The shield wall was intact. A stalemate, she could accept. The less lives lost the better.

One cyclops and the pincer would be complete. Two halves of an army merging in on one that had lost their greatest weapons.

Chloe had asked for one single victory. And here she was on the brink of it. Perhaps if she had known the cost…

No. She would not cheapen their sacrifices. Perhaps it was indeed a cost too high to bear and perhaps it was also a cost no one should bear witness. Yet somehow, or rather, it was a cost that required bearing-

The roar of victory, shattering her thoughts. A roar that was to signal the archers and their protectors to rush down the plateau and bolster their forces. They never came.

"No," Larissa managed, voice wavering. "Something's wrong. My people are never late to a signal."

The silence, thereafter, festering and permeating through Chloe. With it, the dreaded anticipation of potential desolation. Hundreds of lives…

"No, no, no-" Zandra was holding Larissa back. "I told her not to come. I told her…"

Chloe looked to Damian. She did not know if it was for guidance or comfort. Or something entirely helpless. A plea for salvation. But time did not flow in reverse.

"A valiant effort!" Booming through the valley, a voice so ancient that it grated against her bones. A voice that could have only come from the shadowy figure that had emerged before them. She could not be sure, but standing on that plateau, he seemed too large to be human. Besides, no human could project their voice as if from the earth.

The figure jumped. One giant leap that only confirmed her fears. His landing sent the earth beneath them shaking. And there he was, standing only a hundred feet from them. A figure dressed in golden armor, a blade larger than her, at his back. He was coated in blood that still dripped down his glistening armour.

"I have to admit," he approached as he spoke. His strides bringing with it an immense presence. "You did quite the number on my forces. A pity that they had to be wasted on humans. I was saving them for you and your city." The man drew his blade pointing it straight at Damian. "Nevertheless, I have what I came for. Call off your army…or they'll end up like the archers I found up there."

The man showed no emotion whatsoever. Not a hint of glee or anger or even frustration. Chloe paled at his words. The potential desolation having been realised. Two hundred soldiers slaughtered…

This being…this monster. He had to be killed. Could he though? He had referred to the Theban's as humans. And even before…that presence of his. It had kept them all frozen in place. An immortal, he had to be. But who?

"I will not ask again," he continued his approach. "I have no argument with Thebes or its people."

"Zandra-" Larissa's voice having taken a dangerous turn. "Call off the army and retreat back to Thebes."

"What about you?" Zandra reached for her gently.

"Go," Larissa breathed. "This is a direct order from your Archon. Circle around and gather the dead. Then leave. I do not want any of you within ten miles of here."

Still, Zandra did not move. "We die together. That is our vow."

"I couldn't care less," said Larissa, pulling her in for a quick kiss. "You vowed to follow my orders. So please, go." Clasped forearms and a solemn nod. That was their goodbye.

"You have to go with them," Damian butted in, an anxious glance thrown their way. "If that being wants to target Hemitheopolis and Hemitheopolis alone, it must mean that this is ancient feud. One between di immortales. It is best you don't stand in the way."

"You forget yourself," Larissa's smile a grim one. Yet it did not all convey the depth of her emotion. The despair that had consumed her heart. "You do not command me. Even if you were Theban, I outrank you. I said what I said. I couldn't care less. This man, whatever he is, god or not, will die. And I will be the one whose knife sinks into his heart. So, as far as I am concerned, it is you who is standing in my way."

Zandra was gone, and with her the remnants of their forces. So there they stood. The three of them against the enemy. He stopped ten feet away, his blade pointed to the ground, both hands wrapped around its silver hilt.

"Wise choice. You have my word. The people of Thebes are safe."

And just like that, the remaining monsters froze and retreated, their assault on the shield wall having ended.

"Now…I suppose the three of you are not willing to surrender."

"Over my grave!" growled Larissa, twirling her daggers.

The man let out a heavy sigh before pulling his blade from the earth.

"So be it." He shot forward, greatsword in hand.

Chloe joined Damian and Larissa in meeting him. They fought with everything. Vitriol, vengeance, wrath. Still, he parried their attacks with ease. His movements quicker than they had any right being. Chloe's life had nearly been forfeited with a slice to the midriff, but her lithe frame and years of training allowed for her to leap back in time.

Damian, blinded by fury, retaliated with such ferocity that even the warrior was taken aback. It was the first flicker of emotion he'd shown. Damian brought his weapon down again and again, his blade bouncing off the warrior's as if it were nothing. An action as futile as trying to breach Hemitheopolis. Then came Larissa, equally fueled with fury.

Gods, Chloe wished they were in a more favorable terrain. Beneath their feet was just layer and layers of rock. Even if she were lacking the mastery or energy for something truly spectacular, at least she could have used a couple of thick vines to try and tie down his limbs.

Seeing an opening, Chloe threw her chakrams at his exposed back. Again, almost imperceptible in his speed, the warrior sidestepped, her weapons now sailing straight for Damian. Chloe willed her entire focus and remaining well of energy to divert them. She scraped bottom.

It was enough. Barely. They had only cut a small slice across his left arm. Damian offered her a quick nod and continued his assault. Chloe rolled out of the skirmish for a moment and retrieved her weapons. She had to be more careful now that her tank was empty. Her chakrams would no longer return to her if thrown.

Larissa who had been knocked aside, returned to action. Her absence must have left her forgotten as she was the first one of them to land a blow. One long gash across the back of the warrior's thigh. He whirled and grabbed her by the neck—lifting her up and squeezing.

Chloe froze, damn her. It had not been the first time today.

Larissa's legs struggled with the last throes of life as she choked for air. She spat into the man's eye. One final act of defiance.

The warrior brought her closer, with a distasteful look and said, "You are no demigod." He threw her across the field. Too far for Chloe to see where she landed. The chances were as slim as they come, but if anyone could survive that, it would be Larissa and her sheer defiance against anything at all that dared oppose her. An apex predator. The Lion of Thebes.

The warrior was not at all done. He turned on the two of them and kicked Damian aside the moment he approached. Standing over Damian, the man dropped his blade and stepped on Damian's leg with such force that Chloe could hear the snapping of his bones. The crack that filled the air, shattering some fundamental piece of her. Chloe screamed. She did not remember attacking. What she did remember however was his hands wrapping around the side of her head…

Damian

Damian felt nothing but pain. All-consuming agony writhing up from his leg and to his lungs. He had to get up. Larissa was gone. He was the only thing that stood in between Chloe and the immortal. He tried to rise, but the pain sent him careening back down.

Then came a voice he knew all too well.

Chloe.

Her screams filling the air. He turned to his side, hoping to get a view of situation-

She was on a swift advance. Dodging all the blows that came. But she made the same mistake both he and Larissa had committed. Chloe got too close. The man grabbed her by the head and slammed her against the earth. Her figure went limp.

In that moment, nothing mattered. Nothing but getting to her. The pain of not-knowing trumping that of his broken body. He rose with a righteous fury—body shaking from anger or perhaps pain. Damian swung his sword quicker than he had ever done before and still the warrior parried him with ease. That was all Damian had left in him. He watched as the flat of his opponent's blade came swinging his way.

Yes I know. Two cliffhangers in a row. What can I say. I enjoy suffering.

This chapter brings us to the end of Act 2 of 3.

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I'd really appreciate it.