~ floor twenty-nine ~

"Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before."

When Percy woke up the next day, everyone else was still asleep, and the palace was quiet. The sun had barely risen at all, but he could see the first light through the canopy of the trees outside. They had been given a room with three bunk beds to share, it reminded Percy a lot of the dormitories in Elmon's school. It was warm and cozy, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a while.

That didn't mean he felt safe though, gods no. The imminent danger ahead of him kept him from relaxing, despite the good food and warm beds. Percy stood up from his bed -the bottom bunk of the one he shared with Marco- and quietly got dressed.

Sometime yesterday, one of the Fey had come to give them new sets of clothing, since theirs were ripped and dirty. Percy wore a dark brown shirt and pants, though he kept his leather boots. They were snug and comfortable, not to mention warm. He fastened Orenmir's sheath to his waist and wore Lifedrinker on his back. On a whim he decided to tuck his bone knife into the back of his belt, just as a backup.

He strolled through the empty halls, occasionally passing a guard or servant who gave him a strange look, but otherwise it was quite peaceful. Nothing indicated that a war was brewing. Faintly remembering the directions, he turned several corners until he found what he'd been looking for: the baths.

Percy didn't desire a bath at the moment, he'd taken that chance yesterday. He did however want to do something about the current state of his hair; more importantly the itchy and annoying hairs on his chin. He walked past several large pools of water that clouded the air with hot steam; the Fey had public baths, very similar to the ones in Rome.

Eventually, he found a few private compartments that had mirrors; changing rooms? He ducked into one of them, closing the curtain behind him, and sat down on the small wooden bench. With a deep breath, he looked in the mirror.

He looked different, to say the least. His eyes were darker, two swirling pools of green, and a permanent frown seemed to exist on his face. He tried to relax his face, but it ended up looking ridiculous. He absentmindedly scratched the hairs on his chin, they'd grown unnaturally fast during his stay in Tartarus. The same applied to his hair; it fell down to his lower nape at this point. It often fell into his face and eyes, obstructing his vision. He suspected it had something to do with absorbing Sanak and Aruli's essence.

It had probably altered his physical traits somehow.

Luckily, he had a solution for that. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a circular, elastic band made of rubbery material. The Fey often had long hair, men and women alike, and the warriors tied it back into braids or tails. So when he'd seen one in the pile of clothes they had been provided, he'd snatched it up immediately.

He combed his hair backwards and held it there, before awkwardly twisting the hair tie around it. When he was done, it looked better than he'd expected, though a few strands still fell out and framed his face. It was a definite improvement though; he could actually fight without worry now.

Next up, he pulled the knife out from his belt. This was the tricky part; Fey couldn't grow beards, so razors weren't available anywhere, meaning Percy would have to improvise.

When he exited the stall after cleaning up, his face was cleanshaven once more, and the accidental cuts were already healed. Aruli's power made sure of that.

On his way out, he bumped into Rydel in the hallway just outside the baths. The young man was already wearing his armor. Did he ever take it off?

"Ah, you." Rydel said. "I've been looking for you. Father asked me to get you a proper set of armor, and a weapon if you desired one."

Percy frowned. He hadn't worn any armor for a long time now, except the enchanted chainmail vest he wore under his shirt. Though it was battered and bruised; some chains began to unlink at the edges due to the amount of abuse it had sustained.

"I'll take you up on that offer, actually." He replied. "I'm not one for heavy armor though, so..."

Rydel simply gave a wave of his hand. "Don't worry, even if you were to have a full set of Zullite steel armor, it would be light as a feather." He assured. "That's how our soldiers can wear their armor without tiring so quickly."

Percy nodded as he followed Rydel through the halls; the man had a point. Both his swords were light and so was his arm. Who says armor would he any different?

A few minutes and some staircases later, they stood in front of a large open area with walls made of stone. They were underground, Percy realized, and this must have been the forges.

He could feel the heat from the fires on his face already. It was oddly comforting.

Fey blacksmiths scurried from left to right, from anvil to oven, etc. Rydel expertly avoided all of them, Percy hot on his heels as they made their way to a more secluded part of the hangar-like area.

The Fey pushed open a door, beckoning Percy to enter. He stepped into the room before Rydel entered after him.

It was an armoury. A well maintained one at that.

He saw racks and racks of swords, spears and even axes stacked against each other. Armor pieces were organized neatly on shelves and stands.

Rydel took off his helmet and placed it on a cabinet next to the door. He nodded at the room in general. "Take what you need. I recommend some arm and shin guards, since you seem to be lacking in that department."

Percy nodded thoughtfully, that was actually a good suggestion. His metal arm was fine, but his other arm was oddly exposed all the time.

He took two shin guards from the shelves. Usually they were part of a whole armor set, but he figured he could wear them over his clothes to retain maximum mobility. He found a pair that suited him, and fastened the leather straps around his legs.

Percy took an experimental walk around the room, kicking at the air a few times to test the waters. It felt natural, as if they weren't even there. They protected his shins and knees too, so this was a major plus.

Leaving them on, he decided to look for something to protect his arm. Something that would cover his tattoos, preferably. Anonymity could prove to be a great weapon in the future.

He found nothing, oddly enough. They had gauntlets, but they felt clunky and uncomfortable in his hand. After a few more minutes he abandoned the topic completely.

Next, he picked up a Zullite steel chainmail vest, a suitable replacement for his current one. He liked the light feel of chainmail as opposed to the clunkiness of a chest plate. He shrugged off the old one, and replaced it with the new vest. It glittered like stars in the faint light of the lamp that hung off the ceiling.

Percy eyed the rows of swords on the racks; they were similar to Orenmir in a way. These swords barely had a crossguard though, and they were slightly curved as opposed to Orenmir's straight edge.

Designed for speed and agility. Perfect for two people he knew.

"Mind if I take two swords for my friends?" He asked Rydel. "They're basically unarmed at the moment."

"Of course not, but beware; not everyone will like you having Fey weapons out there, Percy." Rydel replied.

Percy nodded gratefully, pondering the man's words for a minute. The Fey were proving to be a more influential and famous race than he'd originally thought. He grabbed two swords from the rack, and decided to throw in a medium length, sheathed dagger as well. Annabeth would like it, he thought.

Speaking of Ember; he had an idea of how to get a suiting protector/cover for his right arm. Having a blacksmith on the team came in handy after all. Swinging the weapons over his shoulder, he exited the room with Rydel not far behind.

"Have you eaten yet?" Rydel asked as they passed through the forge's main gate. A battalion of armed soldiers passed them by, on their way to some place unseen. Percy shook his head.

"No, I haven't had the chance." He said. It was true, he'd been occupied with other stuff ever since he woke up.

"Go to the dining hall then. Your friends should be there, if they didn't sleep in." Rydel said. They reached a split in the hall, and the young Fey pointed at the one to the right. "I have to report back to my father. You know the way to the dining hall?"

When Percy nodded, he began walking down the other hall. "Also, don't forget to pay a visit to our training rooms. Maybe we can show you a few tricks!"

The demigod huffed at the disappearing Fey. "Doubt it!" He said loudly, but Rydel was already out of his view. With a sigh, he began heading to the dining hall.

Rydel hadn't been wrong; his friends were seated in the same spot as yesterday, looking groggy and tired as they ate. He plopped down onto the chair next to Ember, and snatched a piece of bread from a nearby plate.

"Morning." He said. The others greeted him with a chorus of 'good mornings', though not very enthusiastically.

"Where were you at this hour?" Ember asked, wiping some crumbs off her face with the sleeve of her shirt. Her table manners were... something.

She looked up at him for the first time that day, and her eyes widened comically. "Nevermind, I see what you've done." She said. "With your hair and all."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Like it?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It's... different. Good different."

"That's good and all, but why do you have an entire army stock with you?" Marco asked, interrupting their moment. It annoyed Percy more than he'd like to admit.

He placed the two swords on the table, one for Ember and one for Nathaniel. "They're for you. You're both unarmed, and that's not a good thing." He said. "You can come with me to the training rooms after this if you want some pointers."

Ember accepted the sword with a grateful nod and Nathaniel gingerly took the blade in his hand. Ember nodded towards his legs.

"You got those too?" She asked.

"Yeah, Rydel told me to." Percy said. "I couldn't find anything for my arm though." He held up his flesh hand. "But I was hoping you could help me with that?"

Ember's eyes practically lit up at the mention of her work. "Yes! What do you need? A vambrace, or more of a gauntlet?" She asked excitedly, shuffling her chair closer to him as she spoke.

He gave a nervous laugh. "Well... Just something that protects my sword arm, and hides these." He tapped the tattoos spread across his hand and arm.

Ember nodded, her fingertips tapping against the wooden tables as the thought. "I'll think of something. You reckon they'd let me use the forges?"

He nodded. "If they let me raid the armoury, then surely they'd let you use their tools."

Ember clapped her hands in excitement. "Great!"

Marco leaned forward, taking a closer look at Ember's sword. It wasn't decorated with jewels and precious metals like his, but it looked like a good blade. "So... Alvar, huh?" He muttered. "I wonder when that guy's going to make his move."

"Soon." Percy replied. "He doesn't seem like the type to wait around."

"He isn't." Nathaniel confirmed. He was delicately touching the large scar on his face with a grimace. "We've been lucky to make it this far. I fear we might not make it out alive this time."

"What do you mean?" Asked Lohi. The hobgoblin girl looked slightly out of place among the Fey, with her short stature and green skin. She'd been given clothes as well, but they were a bit big on her.

"Despite the help we're receiving, we've basically been surrounded." Nathaniel explained. "Even if we manage to escape the castle during Alvar's siege, the forest is likely crawling with wolves and other monsters."

He leaned back in his chair, the sheathed sword resting on his lap.

"This was Taroth's way of forcing our hand. Either we stand and fight or we flee, losing the favor of the Fey in the process. We'd have two armies on our backs then." He said. "But that's not what I'm worried about. Alvar isn't what you think he is. He's not some mindless monster going on a rampage; he's a nigh invincible warlord who has destroyed anyone who opposes him for hundreds of years. His power far surpasses that of Aruli. I don't think this is a winnable battle."

The table was quiet. As much as he disliked the son of Athena sometimes, Percy had to admit he had a point. But that didn't mean he'd give up. It was too late now, anyway.

"I've faced worse odds than this." Percy said with his arms crossed and a fierce expression on his face. "You show know that, Nathaniel."

The other demigod frowned, so Percy continued.

"When I faced Kronos, when Manhattan was overrun, I could've given up there and died, like a coward." He said. "But I didn't, and guess what? I ended up winning. The same applies to the situation we've got on our hands now. I won't allow myself to die here, stuffed between stone walls underground. I'm going to kill Alvar just as I killed Aran, and Aruli after him, and anyone who stands between me and those Doors of Death, be that the other lieutenants or Tartarus himself."

"And that's a promise." said Percy, ending his monologue by sinking back into the chair with a sigh. Despite this, it was clear that he'd meant every word.

While the others regarded him with looks of awe or surprise, Nathaniel's expression seemed thoughtful and... was that regret on his face?

Deciding not to ponder on it further, Percy stood up from the chair. He'd finished his meal, and it was time to check out those training rooms Rydel had mentioned.

"I'll go with you." Marco said, standing up after him. Lohi decided come with as well, and she managed to drag a very unwilling Nathaniel along.

Ember said she'd check out the forges first, to get started on his vambrace as soon as possible, but she'd join later if she had the time.

With that, they went their separate ways, and the day went on.

From the darkness, not far from the palace's main gate, a lone figure watched the Fey guards march from the shadows. Only his electrifying yellow eyes could be seen, and the occasional beam of light that reflected off the pommel of his rapier.

A wolf snarled to his right, causing Alvar to roll his eyes in annoyance. He was starting to despise his stay on the lower floor, almost as much as he hated this demigod he was hunting.

But it didn't matter. Soon his siege would begin. Those damned Fey didn't have a chance against him, even if his usual army was replaced by halfwits and dogs.

He turned, stepping back into the forest.

When he captured and killed this demigod; he'd offer the boy's head to his father, Tartarus. Yes, that was a brilliant idea.

Alvar imagined the look of pride and satisfaction of his father's face when he did so. No longer would he have to live in the shadow of his older brother.

He spat on the dirt ground.

That bastard didn't deserve to be father's right hand man. His favorite. The one he treasured above all.

He knew he'd gotten a better end of the deal than his other brothers. Aran, Aruli and Arnan. Their father barely acknowledged their existence, let alone spoke to them.

But that was their fault for being weak, despite being born with extraordinary abilities.

Alvar would prove it this time. He was the greatest man to walk the surface of the Castle, the most powerful bar his father, Tartarus himself. None of his foolish brothers could change that.

Maybe he'd request an audience with his mother after gaining his father's favor. Yes, that is what he would do.

Grinning to himself with a mad glint in his eye, he sunk back into shadows unseen.

Alvar had work to do.

Percy watched as Rydel and Marco sparred with wooden practice blades, dancing around the mat with unparalleled grace.

Surprisingly, they seemed to be a somewhat even match.

Marco spun out of the way as Rydel struck at his head, before countering with a sweep of his legs.

The son of Taroth was knocked down, but far from defeated. He rolled away and swiftly stood back up.

In a different corner, on a different mat, Nathaniel and Lohi were slowly getting used to the feel of their weapons. They had been assigned an instructor who taught them the basics, and they had been practicing for the past two hours or so.

Nathaniel didn't have any combat experience, but he was slowly getting the hang of it. The same applied to Lohi, though the girl wasn't used to using such a light weapon.

He'd have to request a mace or a greatsword for her, Percy thought. Brute strength was more her gig.

Percy himself was just watching at this moment, though he did occasionally fight one of the Fey. Some young trainees had challenged him at the start of the session, thinking he was some pushover.

They ended up regretting it later.

"Percy." A voice called from behind him. He turned to see none other than Taroth entering the room, closing the door behind him. "I see you're busy."

The man was dressed in light clothing; a simple white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his muscular forearms, and brown pants.

He shrugged. "Not really."

Taroth raised an eyebrow. "Are they not enough of a challenge?" He asked.

"Something like that." Percy said. It was true, his supernatural speed and strength alone created such a huge gap that Percy didn't know if anyone could really fight him, except a lieutenant.

"Who taught you?" Taroth asked.

Percy blinked at the suddenness of the question, but replied anyway. "Uh, well... Chiron back on the surface, but I've done a lot of improving in Rosehallow. I had a teacher named Elmon."

Taroth's eyes widened, and the Fey lord gave a short laugh. "Ah, Elmon." He said. "I knew that man when he was a boy. Such fire, such talent."

"You knew Elmon?"

"I taught him, Percy." Taroth said. "I wasn't always the master of this forest, you see."

He decided the ignore the fact that this guy had taught Elmon, in favor of question that had been bugging him for a while now.

"No offense, but how are you Fey, anyway?" He asked. "I thought you were a son of Aran? And wasn't Lifedrinker created to uh... kill everyone with the blood of Tartarus?"

Taroth's expression remained neutral.

"You're familiar with the blade's history?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Good." Taroth said. "No one should wield that blade without knowing the blood it's soaked in. You don't mind if I add to the backstory a bit, do you?"

Percy blinked. "Uh, no. Go ahead."

Taroth took a slow breath.

"You see, I'm also called the father of all Fey. When I was a young man, I wandered these floors looking for purpose. I did not find one for many, many years. Always wandering. Always alone.

"I did not know I had brothers and sisters at this time, since Aran was always very negligent when it came to his offspring. One day, I met a sorceress who lived in a forest. I promised her I would do anything for a change, for something to live for.

"She granted my wish, and with our combined power we created the first group of Fey. Beings created in my image, with my physical traits, yet they didn't share my blood.

"The witch warned me that with a spell like this, a large price always followed. I did not listen, instead I traveled to another floor and stayed put."

Taroth looked at the walls, his brow furrowed in melancholy.

"That was this forest. Over the years, the race of the Fey began to grow and grow, they spread across countless floors. Until one day, Alvar came. He destroyed several Fey strongholds in the name of his twisted sense of justice. So the Fey came to me, asking for aid. I could not do much, but I gave them shelter.

"In these halls, Lifedrinker was forged. So much hate, so much suffering was poured into one blade... It made it powerful. The first wielder of the blade, a man whose name has long since been forgotten, stormed Aran's stronghold, planning to use the weakest lieutenant as leverage to weaken Alvar somehow.

"I did not even come to that. Aran was severely wounded, but Medicuil's wielder was killed. When Aran sealed his tomb to regain his lost strength, Lifedrinker was sealed with it."

"Until I found it." Percy said. The story was... heavy, to say the least. He'd never expected the sword to have such a dark past. It made him wonder what Orenmir could've gone through.

It did explain why Taroth held so much hate for Alvar.

"Until you found it." Taroth echoed. "And gods above, may it help us in the upcoming battle."

Their conversation was interrupted when they heard a loud grunt. Marco was pushed back onto his behind, his sword had been knocked out of his hand.

"Giving up yet?" Rydel asked, taking heavy breaths with each word. Marco was winded too, and Percy realized they had been fighting this entire time.

"Yeah, yeah." Marco muttered, waving it off as he got to his feet to retrieve his sword.

They noticed Percy and Taroth standing there, and beckoned them to come closer. Rydel gave a formal bow of his head.

"You don't usually stop by the training quarters, father." He said. "What's the occasion."

A small, reassuring smile appeared on Taroth's face. "Don't worry, child. I've only come to have a few words with our demigod here. I'll be taking my leave again."

"Mind if I go with you? I'd like to talk about something in private." said Rydel. His father raised a curious eyebrow, but nodded.

They left shortly after, saying farewell to Percy on the way out. Marco narrowed his eyes at the doorway.

"You trust them?" He asked.

"Sort of." Percy shrugged. "Do you?"

Marco copied his movement. "I don't know. Something about this place just unsettles me." He admitted.

"Fair enough. Let's get out of here then." Percy offered. "You've been going at it for long enough anyway."

Marco was quick to agree, and they put away their wooden gear before leaving the training room. The halls were busy, Fey of all kinds of occupations scurried through the hallways on their way to wherever.

"You wouldn't think a war's brewing in this place." Marco muttered. "Where are we anyway? Underground?"

"I think so. Maybe in the side of a hill or something."

"Hmm." His friend hummed. Percy was about to ask when someone bumped hi shoulder.

A group of around a dozen soldiers rushed past them, not marching like they usually did, but all-out running. Percy frowned.

"What's happening?" He asked. Marco shook his head; he didn't know either.

As if the gods themselves had heard his question, a distant rumble shook the palace. Dust was shaken off the lamps that were mounted on the walls as they shook.

"That can't be good." Marco said with a worried glint in his eye. "Let's go take a look."

Percy agreed. They took off, trailing behind the company of soldiers that rushed through the halls. They turned a few corners, until the soldiers ducked into a much larger, open hall.

"They've broken the wall!" One of them yelled as Marco and Percy turned the corner.

They were right; the wall had been breached somehow. Pieces of rubble were scattered all over the floor, a thin layer of dust stained the carpet before the huge hole that had been smashed into the stone wall.

A wall of soldiers stood in front of it, spears facing towards something that was blocked from Percy's sight. He saw a flash of red; the coat of a direwolf.

The twangs of a hundred bowstrings reached his ears, and Percy could barely pull Marco behind the wall once more before a rain of arrows soared through the hole.

He heard cries of pain and fear, followed by the sound of metal clanging against metal. The arrow storm had stopped, so Percy dared to peek around the corner.

It was bad.

The floor was littered with the bodies of Fey soldiers, though many more were storming in from different hallways. He saw Rydel at the head of one battalion, leading the charge.

Dozens and dozens of creatures crawled through the hole in the wall, clawing their way into the stronghold. A lot of them were Vrykolakas, some Telekhines, but a good number of them he couldn't even recognize.

Sounds of war filled the mid-day sky. Percy freed Lifedrinker from its sheath before turning to Marco, only to see he was already gone.

He found the boy in the crowd of Fey, armed with nothing but a sword but furiously hacking into any monster that came near.

Percy quickly followed, diving into the fray. This wasn't an organized battle between two armies, this was a siege. Alvar had made his move.

He sliced through the neck of a vampire and watched it crumble, before turning to look at the state of the battlefield.

Due to the suddenness of the attack, the Fey were largely unprepared. Percy knew most of the defenses were spent on the weak points of the stronghold, so an attack like this wasn't expected in the slightest.

They were being pushed back.

A wolf tried to leap over Percy's head, but he sliced its hind legs to ribbons. It died almost immediately after, the corpse staying physical. He hacked through another monster that was dragging a Fey by the leg, before grabbing Orenmir's hilt.

With a hum of the blade, he was at the opposite side of the battlefield, where the largest concentration of enemies was.

In chaotic battles like this, he was most powerful, which was awfully ironic. With a wide swing from his blade, charged with electricity, another wave of enemies turned to dust.

Percy took a breath. His heart was hammering in his chest, but he couldn't stop yet. He kicked the legs of a Telekhine to knock it off balance, before harshly throwing it back towards the hole in the wall.

A pale hand reached out and caught it.

Percy stopped dead in his tracks as he felt a powerful aura enter his mind. It rattled him to the core, just as it had done the first time.

The hand tossed the monster to the side as if it was nothing, before taking a few slow, agonizing steps through the makeshift entrance.

The battle seemed to freeze as every creature looked to the hole, to see the lieutenant of Tartarus enter the palace. Said lieutenant was dressed in black armor with silver accessories here and there, and a pitch black cloak.

Alvar took a deep breath through the nose, before exhaling again.

"Ah, the smell of demigod. A rotten smell." His eyes seemed to zero in on Percy. "For an even rotter being."

Somehow, Percy didn't faint in the face of this overwhelming power. He stood his ground as the two armies seemed to make way for him, he walked forward.

"You're one to talk, Alvar." He said casually. "Where's your invite? Don't remember you being on the list."

Alvar simply raised a finger, grinning that malicious grin of his.

One second passed by.

Then another, but nothing happened.

Alvar's grin faltered for half a second, but Percy saw it nonetheless. He was reminded of their last battle, and realized what was happening.

"Your little psychic trick isn't working, is it?" Percy said with a grin. "Losing your touch?"

The lieutenant's grin fell entirely this time. "Hardly." He said. "Just because you're not completely incompetent when it comes to magic prowess, doesn't mean you're a match for me."

"We'll see about that." Percy said, clenching his jaw in anticipation.

Alvar's sword slid free from its scabbard; an elegant rapier made of greenish metal. He spun it experimentally, giving it a few whirls, before abruptly thrusting it outwards towards Percy.

He would've asked himself why the lieutenant did that, since he was a dozen feet away, if the sudden wave of wind pressure hadn't almost knocked him off his feet.

Percy slid backwards, narrowly avoiding the bodies of monsters and Fey alike that had been thrown due to the wind. Was this another one of Alvar's powers?

Speaking of Alvar; the lieutenant was right in front of him.

Percy managed to block the first two strikes, but the others opened up gashes on his arm and left thigh. He winced, before bouncing backwards on the balls of his feet.

His wounds gave a low hiss; judging by the steam, they were already healing.

"Aruli." Alvar spat. "That blithering idiot couldn't even kill a demigod like you, and now look what he's done."

Percy attacked, aiming a stab at the man's exposed leg. Alvar blocked it, so he followed up with an upwards slash.

The lieutenant leaned back and easily avoided it. Frustratingly so. Percy retook his stance, shifting his footing on the cracked stone.

"You're stronger than when we last met, I admit." Alvar said. "But that will just make it all the better when I defeat you."

Percy gave a low growl, feinting a slash at the man's legs again. Alvar dodged once more, but wasn't prepared for the metal backhand, charged with malicious lightning that crashed into his jaw a second later. Alvar took a step back, wiping away the trickle of blood that rolled down his burned chin.

For a second, they both stared at his bloodied hand in wonder. Then they made eye contact.

Alvar snarled, stabbing at him in a flurry of well-aimed strikes; Percy could do nothing but block or dodge, getting cut where he couldn't defend. The lieutenant finished his attack with a wave of his hand, before an even more powerful wave of wind pressure washed over the battlefield.

Percy was lifted off his feet and flew into the hallway behind him, before landing roughly on the cracked tiles below. His powers were working in overdrive, healing his cuts and bruises in a matter of minutes, but he realized he simply couldn't keep up with the powerhouse that was Alvar.

Right as he got to his knees, Percy felt a strong hand come down on his shoulder. He frowned, looking over to see who it was, only to see a familiar man clad in shining silver battle armor, sword drawn and at his side.

"I see I've arrived just in time." Taroth said. His usually neutral expression was replaced by a hard frown; his eyes were fixed on the lieutenant, who stood motionlessly at the end of the hall, as if waiting for them to strike.

"Yeah, well, a few minutes ago wouldn't have been so bad either." Percy groaned, standing up straight once more. His wounds had closed up, but his new clothes had been torn to shreds. He sighed. "I liked these."

"You cannot beat him alone." Taroth said.

"I'm not alone." Percy replied, giving the man a look.

Taroth huffed. "I guess you're right."

Percy took a sharp inhale; it was time to go all out. He wouldn't be able to beat Alvar otherwise. That feeling of power in his core flared up, before black lightning sparked to life around him. It swirled and crackled around his body like a storm; his eyes shone like dark green stars as he let his power run free.

It was something he'd figured out a while ago. Sanak's power had always been somewhat of a struggle; he could always feel it inside of himself, raging like a fire that never burned out, but usually he kept it caged. Using the small bolts of electricity was like taking a small portion of the magic, and sending it bursting out from his palms. This time though, he let the magic have free reign, causing this effect.

Taroth shot him a surprised look, but Percy ignored it. He realized the two armies had all but stopped fighting in favor of watching the battle that was about to go down. Alvar took a step forward, sneering at them from afar.

"Taroth." He spat. "You were always the weakest of Aran's spawn." He took another step, and the winds around him seemed to increase in strength and velocity. "And now you side with this creature. You're nothing but a traitor to our kind!"

If Taroth was fazed by his words, he didn't show it. "Maybe." He admitted. "But if I'm to die in battle, it sure as hell won't be on your side, filth. You are nothing but a soulless monster with a superiority complex."

Alvar ignored the jab, not breaking his stride. Percy glanced at Taroth. "Let's go." He said, before dashing forwards.

Percy met Alvar first; they met in the middle of the hall with sparking blades and soaring wind. Percy slashed at his chest, but Alvar merely redirected the blade before kicking the demigod away from him.

The lieutenant blocked Taroth's attack next; he'd come soaring in from his flank, but Alvar had seen it coming. Their blades locked and they pushed against each other, but Alvar easily overpower the son of Aran.

Percy, who had recovered, came in from behind and slashed at the back of the lieutenants knees. It didn't slice through his armor, but it did make him buckle long enough for Taroth to get free. They took several steps back to create some distance between them and Alvar.

"I have an idea." Percy said.

Taroth seemed to know what it was already. "Your other blade?" He asked.

Percy nodded, before charging their opponent once again. Alvar growled, deflecting Percy's attack and countering with a stab of his own, which the demigod dodged. Alvar waved his hand, and a blast of wind blew Percy back again, but he had a plan.

He pulled out Orenmir as he flew, before activating the sword's ability. His form shimmered for a second, before he switched locations with Taroth, who had snuck up behind Alvar while he was busy fighting Percy.

As Taroth was blasted backwards, Percy slashed at Alvar's back with both of his blades. They didn't pierce his black armor, but the electricity raced across the metal like fire through paper, and the lieutenant howled in pain.

Taroth was back, making precise and deadly attacks at certain points in the man's armor. His sheer speed flabbergasted Percy; it made sense that this was Elmon's teacher. His skill with the sword was on an entirely different level.

A rageful scream tore through the battlefield. "Enough!" Alvar yelled, before a gust of wind that dwarfed the previous ones in power swept both Percy and Taroth off their feet, sending them flying in opposite directions. Taroth slammed into a wall not too far away from Alvar, while Percy skid across the tiled floor a few dozen meters away.

To his horror, Alvar seemed to have shrugged off their attacks rather easily. He seemed more annoyed that anything.

"These pesky warriors and their mimicry magic..." Alvar growled, grabbing Taroth by the throat and lifting him up with a single, metal clad hand. The lord of the Fey gasped for breath, his feet dangling uselessly in the air. His face was turning colors quickly, but his sword was on the floor a few meters away, while Percy was still dazed from the attack.

Said demigod slowly got to his knees, holding a hand to his head. Blood seeped from between his fingers. He'd banged his head pretty bad, he realized. Percy looked back at Alvar, trying to clear his blurry vision.

"You thought you could somehow, somehow defeat me." Alvar said. "It was a hopeless battle from the start."

With that, he raised his sword and thrust it straight into Taroth's torso. The first Fey gasped and gargled, before Alvar gave one last push to run him through entirely. Taroth's eyes were wide and full of pain, but they did not show fear, which infuriated Alvar even more.

Suddenly, the air around Taroth's body shimmered, before the Fey disappeared entirely, taking Alvar's sword with him. Instead, Percy Jackson stood in front of him, his eyes narrowed and full of rage. In his confusion, Alvar did not anticipate the attack that was heading for his head. All he could do was raise his hand-

Before Lifedrinker, its silver blade glowing red with heat and crackling full of magic lightning, cleaved straight through his wrist, ignoring the armor as if it wasn't there at all.

Alvar hand fell on the ground.

It took the lieutenant a second to process what had just happened, before a agonizing scream ripped from his throat. He held his steaming stump like a lifeline, rapidly taking steps back. Percy wanted to continue, but he was sent flying back with a wave of Alvar's hand.

He slammed into the wall before sliding back to the floor, though he got up just in time to see Alvar's form rapidly retreating through the hole in the wall, his army of wolves and other monsters in tow.

Within minutes, the battlefield was void of evil once again, leaving only the dead and dying behind. The surviving soldiers began to tend to the wounded immediately, soldiers and civilians alike.

Percy took deep breaths as he sat there, slumped against the wall, until he spotted Rydel. The young man was crouched next to his father's body. Percy pushed away from the wall and made his way over to them as fast as he could.

"It's alright, my son." He heard Taroth say. "I've lived a life of plenty within these walls, for much longer than anyone should be allowed to. You will be a better lord of this forest than I ever was. I know it."

Rydel seemed at a loss for words, staring down at his father's beaten form. Taroth's eyes zeroed in on Percy next, before the man coughed and gasped. When the fit settled, he continued.

"You've made history today, Perseus. Whether you realize it or not, the scale of power has been tipped." Taroth said softly, but his tone was grave. "By crippling Alvar as you've done this day, you've painted a target on your back, but I suppose it was a necessary evil."

Another cough. Blood stained the lord's lips. His face was unnaturally pale.

"The only advice I can give you..." He said. "Do not give up. If there is anyone in this world... anyone capable of ending the reign of those five wretched lieutenants..." Taroth's tone was weak, his eyelids were drooping, but Percy heard every word as if it was screamed straight into his ear.

"It is you."

Then it was over. Taroth's eyes turned glassy and the last breath escaped the Father of the Fey's lips. Rydel's hands shook as he let go of his father's wound; he'd been applying pressure to it ever since he'd seen it. Percy was silent, though many loud emotions raged within his chest.

Anger, fear, sadness, hate and above all; regret.

As Taroth's body crumbled to dust, the nonexistent wind that always came with a monster's death washed it away until there was nothing left, leaving Rydel and Percy alone in the hall, surrounded by blood and death.

The earth shook, parting for the familiar sight of a stone door. One that lead to the next floor, but Percy couldn't bear to look at it.

"We need a shroud." He said, his voice hoarse. "A shroud for lord Taroth."

Percy and the others didn't stick around for long, mainly because he couldn't shake the feeling of being hunted by an enraged Alvar, and the sight of Taroth's funeral pyre had set off an emotion within him that he didn't like.

Rydel had been crowned lord of the forest not long after, and Percy briefly stopped by to congratulate him. Rydel was heartbroken, obviously, but he made it known that he didn't hold his father's death against Percy. The demigod felt an immense wave of relief wash over him when he heard those words. Rydel had offered him Alvar's sword, the lieutenant had dropped it after all, but he declined, saying Rydel could keep it.

The next day, he went to visit Marco in the hospital wing. The young Fey had gotten pretty banged up in the battle; he'd been unconscious for a few hours now. His right arm was broken, and he had a nasty cut on his forehead. He'd woken up not too long ago, so Percy decided it was time they had a talk, one that was long overdue.

He sat down on a chair, next to Marco's bed. "Hey." He said, keeping it casual.

Marco huffed. "Hey." He replied. "Taroth, huh?"

"Yeah." Percy sighed. "Rydel's lord now, he's saying he can keep the door open for as long as he desires, considering he's the boss of this floor now."

His friend nodded thoughtfully, but Percy wasn't done yet. "He also explained to me that, as the boss of this floor, he can open the door to the last floor, if only for a while."

When he said this, Marco's eyes widened. "Really? Back to... you know?" He asked.

Percy nodded. "Home, yeah." He said. "What do you think?"

Marco seemed terribly conflicted all of a sudden, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Listen, man... I'd love to come along and kick ass with you on the higher floors, but..."

"Your family." Percy said, nodding. "Trust me, I get it."

"My dad doesn't even know I'm here... He's probably worried out of his mind." Marco said, his brow furrowed. "Home... Yeah, that sounds nice."

"You're telling me, pal." The demigod sighed. "For what it's worth, you'll always be my brother. No matter how many floors we're apart."

He couldn't quite explain the look Marco gave him then; torn between relief and sadness. In the end, Marco just gave him a watery smile and a punch in the shoulder. "Don't get mushy with me, asshole." He grunted. "Ember's coming with you?"

Percy nodded. "Yeah, I offered her the same thing I did you, but she insisted that she comes with me."

Marco gave an exaggerated eye roll. "Of course she did." He sighed. "Seriously though, don't hurt that girl. She's sweet, always has been."

"I won't." He promised.

Marco sat up, wincing only slightly, before offering Percy his good hand. "It's been a good run, honestly. Some of the best times I've had." He admitted. "You made me a better person."

Percy grinned, shaking his head. "Nah, bro. That was all you. I just gave you a little push in the right direction."

His friend simply grinned back as Percy took his hand- they shared a brotherly handshake. When Percy stood up from his chair, he turned to look at his friend one last time.

"Say hi to Dusk and Trevan for me?" He said.

Marco huffed out a laugh. "You got it."

~ end of floor twenty-nine ~

An abrupt ending to the floor! Percy has officially made a name for himself in his battle against Alvar, but it came at a cost! Lifedrinker's entire backstory has been revealed, and Marco says goodbye!

Review, review, review!