"Percy Jackson." I replied. Michael's charisma was ridiculous. I felt an urge not just to answer his questions, but also to fall onto my knees and swear sovereignty to him.

"Ah!" Michael's eyes glowed in surprise. "So you're the legendary Percy Jackson! It's an honor to meet you!"

"No it's mine, mi'l-" At the last moment, I managed to stop myself from addressing him as my superior.

"Oh? You managed to resist." Michael's eyes danced with amusement. "Though I can't say the same for your companion."

I risked a glance to my side. What I saw nearly made my jaw drop.

Annabeth was on her knees, her head bowed. I could see her legs shaking as she tried to move, but her body ignored her.

I felt rage pulse through my body. Any control Michael's presence had over me was gone. I only had one objective.

To hurt him.

"MIIIICHAEEELLLLL!" I roared, my blade swinging towards his head.

"Huh." Michael swayed backwards, dodging my clumsy swing with ease. "Impressive. There was no hesitation in that swing of yours."

I followed up with a combo of slashes and stabs, a mix of Greek and Roman sword techniques. Any regular foe would have been defeated instantly, unable to defend against such an unorthodox combat method.

Michael however, effortlessly ducked and weaved his way through the storm of attacks. He was like a sailboat, smoothly navigating a typhoon.

"Hmm. Greek and Roman swordsmanship…seems like our intelligence was correct. You really did attend both Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter." Michael murmured, sidestepping another one of my slashes. "Your lack of hesitation in your movements shows that you've been through many battles. Unfortunately-"

Something caught my foot, breaking my rhythm and sending me sprawling to the ground. I landed on something soft.

"-Your attacks have no killing intent, only anger. This dulls your movements, making it easy to predict and read." A blade stabbed itself on the left side of my head, inches from my neck. "If you really want to kill me, seal your emotions first."

I turn my head, feeling the cold steel on my throat. Something warm is flowing on my neck.

I place my finger on my neck. It comes back red.

Blood.

But it isn't mine.

I look down at what I landed on. It was soft, unlike the hard floor that I had previously landed on…

An orange Camp-Halfblood Shirt. With three holes in the center. Blood is pouring from the holes, staining the orange fabric.

"Your comrades." Michael said simply. "They tried to fight. But when the guns were used, they immediately began running. It was sad, having to shoot them in the back. They should have at least kept charging towards me, and faced death like a true war-"

I'm no longer listening. All I care about is killing this man.

This time, when I swing my sword, Michael parries. A shockwave of wind and fire exploded from the contact.

"Oh? To think my blade would react to you!" Michael's face is one of joy. "Finally, you've resolved yourself to killing me!"

Suddenly, the force behind Michael's blade quadruples. Our blades break apart as I'm sent stumbling backwards.

But I have no time to rest.

Michael's next attack is coming. I grip my blade and prepare to fight.

This time, I won't fall down.

Oh ouch. Michael's really quite strong isn't he? That insane charisma that he possesses, as well as his ridiculous combat skills. Let's see if Percy's revenge-driven hate is enough to beat him, shall we?

Review and Fave if you enjoyed it.

Daemon