Chapter 50

21th of December - Winter Solstice
New Rome

"Run, little demigods!" Hippolytos bellowed, his voice a mixture of mockery and menace. "Olympus will fall to the Mistress, and your efforts are in vain!"

The walls of Camp Half-Blood trembled under the relentless assault of the giant, and cracks began to spiderweb across the fortified stone. Frank's heart raced as he realized that the barrier would not hold much longer.

"Beckendorf, now!" Percy shouted over the din of battle.

Beckendorf nodded grimly and slammed his hand onto a concealed control panel. From the depths of the DionysHouse emerged a massive contraption—a gigantic turtle shell bristling with mechanical parts and gears. With a loud buzz, the immense railgun mounted on its back began to charge. The air crackled with electricity as the weapon powered up, its barrel humming nicely.

"Fire!" Beckendorf roared.

A brilliant flash lit up the battlefield as the railgun discharged, sending a projectile with incredible force. The shot struck Hippolytos square in the chest, propelling him thirty meters backward. The giant roared in pain and fury as he crashed into the ground, shaking the very earth.

Beckendorf didn't waste a moment. He began charging the railgun again, its mechanism buzzing as it prepared for another shot. But as the railgun fired a second time, a chilling scene unfolded. Three more giants materialized on the battlefield, as if teleported by some dark technology.

Otis and Ephialtes, the twins—Bane of Dionysus—and Orion, the Bane of Apollo and Artemis, stood before the defenders of Camp Half-Blood.

Orion, at ten feet tall, was the shortest of the giants but no less terrifying. His muscular frame and handsome features made him appear almost human, except for the bronze mechanical eyes embedded in his sockets, which spun and clicked with targeting lasers. His wheat-toast skin and undercut dark hair gave him an air of sinister charm. Clad in black leather breeches and a jerkin, a hunting knife at his belt, and a black composite bow and quiver on his back, he looked like Robin Hood's evil, better-looking twin.

Otis and Ephialtes, both twelve feet tall, were equally menacing. They had humanoid upper bodies but concealed green, yellow-eyed snake legs under their black pants. Otis's long green hair was braided with golden and silver coins, and he wore a sad clay mask resembling the Buskin mask, symbolizing tragedy. Ephialtes had long purple hair similarly braided, and wore a happy clay mask resembling the sock mask, symbolizing comedy. Both carried ten-foot spears strapped to their backs.

"Well, well," Otis sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "It looks like the little demigods are all alone."

Ephialtes chuckled, the sound cold and mocking. "To kill us, you need a god and a demigod. And where are your gods now? Abandoned you, have they?"

The monsters jeered and laughed, their taunts a chorus of cruelty. Despair began to settle over the campers, their faces reflecting the hopelessness of their situation. The railgun, having exhausted its power, fell silent, its barrel drooping as if in defeat.

Frank felt a wave of despair wash over him. Their last line of defense had failed, and now they were truly alone. But then, through the gloom and the smoke, a powerful voice rang out.

"Hey, assholes!"

Clarisse La Rue stood at the edge of the battlefield, grim and bloodied, her armor cracked and broken. She was a sight to behold—tall and muscular, her powerful frame exuding both strength and defiance. Her battle-scarred skin glistened with sweat and blood, and her eyes blazed with unyielding resolve. In her hands, she held her massive two-meter double axe, the blade gleaming menacingly.

Clarisse's presence was electrifying. Her long, dark hair was tied back in a wild braid, accentuating her fierce expression. Her armor, though damaged, clung to her curves, revealing the powerful muscles of her arms and legs. Her breasts, full and firm, were partially exposed through the cracks in her chest plate, adding a raw, primal allure to her appearance. She exuded a potent mix of raw sexuality and lethal power that made her both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

"Who needs the gods?" she shouted, her voice carrying across the battlefield with the force of a storm. "We are heroes! We don't need the gods to fight our battles! We are the architects of our own destinies!"

Her words cut through the despair like a blade, igniting a spark of hope in the hearts of the campers. "The ancient laws say that giants can only be defeated by a god and a hero? Well, fuck the ancient laws! We are more than just demigods—we are warriors!"

Clarisse's voice grew even more powerful, resonating with a deep, primal intensity. "We are the children of the gods! We carry their blood in our veins, but we are not defined by their power! We have faced monsters, Titans, and even gods themselves, and we have stood our ground! We are the defenders of this world, and we will not bow to anyone!"

As she shouted her defiance, the ground trembled, and vines and thorns burst forth from the earth, entwining around the legs of the monsters and giants. The very land seemed to respond to her call for freedom, nature itself rising in rebellion.

"You think we're alone? You think we've been abandoned? Look around you! We are united! We fight for each other, for our friends, for our home! We are more than just heroes—we are family!"

With a battle cry that echoed like thunder, Clarisse leaped high into the air, her axe raised. She came down with the force of a thunderbolt, aiming directly at Orion. The giant's mechanical eyes whirred and clicked, but he was too slow to react. Clarisse's axe struck him with a resounding crash, driving him back several steps.

Orion staggered, his handsome face twisted in shock and pain. Clarisse pressed her advantage, her movements a blur of fury and skill. Her axe cut through the air with lethal precision, each swing aimed to cripple and destroy.

The campers, galvanized by Clarisse's defiance, rallied behind her. Frank felt a renewed sense of purpose surging through him. He turned to his fellow legionnaires and the campers of Half-Blood.

"She's right! We fight for ourselves! For our friends! For our home!" he roared, raising his sword. "Charge!"

With a unified battle cry, the demigods surged forward, their fear replaced by determination. The tide of battle turned as they fought with renewed vigor, driving the giants and monsters back.

Clarisse, locked in fierce combat with Orion, glanced back at her comrades and allowed herself a grim smile. They were not alone. They had each other, and that was more than enough.

21th of December - Winter Solstice
Romania

Dionysos exited the train with a flourish, his detective attire flapping dramatically in the breeze. He wore a brown trench coat that was a size too big, a deerstalker hat perched jauntily on his head, and a magnifying glass dangling from his belt. His mustache, waxed to perfection, completed the look of a caricatured sleuth. He was followed closely by the ever-bickering Alexander, who had stopped to chat up a twenty-year-old handsome man, and a completely unbothered, naked Diogenes, who was currently wrestling another bum for a piece of cardboard. Trailing behind them was the young adolescent vampire, William.

"William. Who names a vampire William?" Dionysos muttered to himself, shaking his head. It seemed absurd, almost comically mundane for a creature of the night.

Despite the strange assembly, Dionysos had decided to take William under his wing. The poor old boy had just badly understood when the corpse - that, alive, probably was a paedophiel - had asked the young vampire to suck him. Good riddance. The incident on the train had left the boy alone and without guidance, and Dionysos felt a sense of responsibility for him. He adjusted his deerstalker hat, feeling the familiar tingle of impending adventure.

"William," he said, turning to the boy. "Where are your parents?"

The young vampire, looking oddly out of place with his pale skin and sharp fangs, replied, "In their castle. Bran Castle, in Bran, 25 kilometers southwest of Brașov, Transylvania."

21th of December - Winter Solstice
Camp Half-Blood

Percy Jackson stood firm on the battlefield, his eyes locked onto the towering form of Hippolytos. The giant loomed over him, his burnt orange skin glowing in the eerie light of the setting sun. Hippolytos's mocking laughter filled the air as he swung his colossal bat, aiming to crush Percy. But Percy, summoning all his strength and agility, darted aside, narrowly avoiding the devastating blow.

"Is that all you've got, demigod?" Hippolytos sneered, swinging his bat again.

Percy didn't respond with words. Instead, he raised his hands, calling upon the power of the water around him. The fountains of Camp Half-Blood and the waters of the lake answered his call, surging towards him in a torrent. The water coalesced around Percy, forming a colossal avatar of water that towered over Hippolytos. The giant's eyes widened in shock as the watery behemoth took shape, its massive arms mirroring Percy's movements.

The water avatar swung its immense arm, crashing into Hippolytos with the force of a tidal wave. The giant staggered, but quickly regained his footing, his laughter turning to a roar of fury. Percy, within the heart of the avatar, directed its movements with precision, slashing with Riptide, his celestial bronze sword. Each strike of the avatar's watery limbs sent waves crashing over the giant, battering him relentlessly.

Hippolytos swung his bat in a desperate attempt to break through the avatar, but Percy maneuvered with agility, the water absorbing the impact. The giant's bat connected with the watery form, sending ripples through it, but Percy held firm, reinforcing the structure with more water from the lake. He could feel the strain of controlling such immense power, his muscles aching and his breath coming in ragged gasps.

With a defiant yell, Percy summoned a storm, lightning crackling within the watery giant. Bolts of electricity struck Hippolytos, each one eliciting a scream of pain from the giant. The ground shook as the battle raged, the very air crackling with energy. Hippolytos roared in defiance, swinging his bat with renewed fury. He managed to strike Percy directly, the impact sending him flying out of the water avatar and crashing to the ground.

Gasping for breath, Percy struggled to rise, blood trickling from his mouth. The water avatar began to lose its shape without his control, but Percy, driven by sheer willpower, forced himself to stand. He raised his hands once more, pulling the water back together. The avatar reformed, though smaller and less stable, and Percy climbed back into its heart.

Hippolytos charged, his eyes blazing with rage. The water avatar met him head-on, its watery fists pummeling the giant. Percy directed every ounce of his strength into the fight, feeling his body protest under the strain. Hippolytos landed another blow, the bat shattering part of the avatar's arm, but Percy pushed through the pain, calling upon the lake's depths to repair the damage.

Breathing heavily, Percy charged once more, his body battered and bleeding, but his spirit unbroken. The avatar's colossal fist struck Hippolytos again, driving him to his knees. With a final surge of strength, Percy leaped into the air within the avatar, bringing Riptide down with all his might. The blade, enhanced by the power of the water and lightning, pierced the giant's chest. With a shudder, Hippolytos fell, defeated. Percy stood over the fallen giant, bloodied but victorious, his defiance against fate and destiny shining in his eyes.