A/N. Reviews!

"YASSSS! Damn i didn't think this would be the reveal chapter and for it to end up like this! Do we get an angry drunk Artemis next chapter? that would be hilarious to read. Im fukin excited to see them rule Hell together!"

Nah, next time you see Artemis will be the chapter after the next one, I believe?

"Dude, this is absolutely trash. The trope of him marrying Artemis because of her is never done good or well like everyone makes it. Percy doesn't fight it at all. He just excepts it like this dude argues with everything and everyone about the littlest shit and this is like OK whatever especially now he's a new king of hell. You don't give him any new abilities and immortality . Nothing just the title that's lame as fuck, absolute garbage it was interesting in the beginning and you just killed it" -ThatoneguyC

Womp womp.

"I agree with ThatoneguyC. Also theres plot hole after plot hole. You forced the plot progression fo the story so it would meet the "Forced Arranged Marriage but Percy is the King of Hell" trope. You try fixing it after but there is no show of contemplation or reluctance in decision making with Percy especially with his arranged marriage. You come up with a reason in a later chapter but there are flaws in his decision also. As in him marrying and Olympian goddess may seem like hell has forged an allience with said Olympians. And a war between heaven with God and the Olympians would be far worse with that poor excuse you gave Percy about Zeus waging war with Hell if he found out. Because let's be real, why should Percy care about hell when he was forced the title of King and everyone in their is after his head and calling him a false one? I can think of several other things like Lucifers decision making with his escape from fate, with Poseidon and Zeus so readily agreeing without trying to atleast force concessions. Just hole after hole. The characters also need to actually be written like they have thoughts before they decide shit. So two dimensional. Bye" -Aausdmr

Cry about it.

Onto the chapter!

Chapter Nineteen

Percy stared up at Azazel's mansion. He had been here a lot recently, but every time he saw it in its grandeur, he was still impressed. He wished he wasn't, especially since he knew what and who hid inside. He glanced back at Mephistopheles, and with a nod of encouragement, he pressed forward. He didn't bother knocking and just opened the door before entering.

His eyes were assaulted by bright light, reflected off of every golden object in the room, which was basically every object in the room. Except for the Prince sitting on the throne. Azazel stared down at the King from his seat, before rising and bowing deeply. "Your Majesty, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Mephistopheles stepped forward. "Prince Azazel of the Pride Ring, you are hereby convicted of treason against the Throne of Hell and its people. You will come with us peacefully or we will use force."

Azazel frowned. "And, may I ask, what evidence do you have?"

Percy reached into his suit jacket's pocket and pulled out the brown feather he found on Azazel's floor when he had come over to escort the Prince to Asmodeus' Strip club. "A feather belonging to the Angel Gabriel." Percy said, before handing it to Mephistopheles. "All of the assassins sent were from your ring. And of course, the most damning piece of evidence. I heard you. What was it you said, 'Everyone I sent, he had killed. He is certainly skilled.'? Was that it?"

Azazel nodded, and stepped forward. He stood tall, his chin held high, his hands folded behind his back. "An impressive case, to be sure. But there is one little thing." Azazel took another step. "It is my word against yours. And I have been here for far longer than you. And you…the demons of Hell don't respect you. Otherwise it would've been harder to find any willing to do my bidding. If you… you," Azazel scoffed, "kill me, they will riot in the streets and storm your castle. And you couldn't stop them."

"Sure, maybe." Percy stepped forward. "But I am King, and you are a traitor. One way or another, your head will roll."

"Sure, maybe." Azazel echoed. "But you'll have to earn it." Azazel said. He raised his hand and a sword appeared.

Percy raised a hand to stop him. "No. We will do this in the arena. I trust you know where I speak of, you were there after all, when I killed Lucifer. We will meet there in an hour, and we will settle this. Don't be late." He swiftly turned, leaving no time for the Prince of Pride to argue.

He and Mephistopheles exited the mansion. As soon as the door closed behind them, Percy's shoulder's fell and he let out a breath. "Fuck."

"You did well, Lord Perseus."

"Thank you." Percy nodded. "Let's get back to the castle and prepare. This is going to be a tough fight and I'd rather be ready for it. Do we have any shields I can use?"

LINE BREAK

Percy once again stood in the hallway that led into the arena's center. His head was leaned back against the wall as his shield pulled his arm down. A hell forged sword hung from his hip. It didn't look remarkable, just a normal iron sword. It was unbalanced in his hand, just like any other sword that wasn't Riptide. But he could deal with the balance issue.

He looked down at the light leather armor he wore on his chest and arms, not wanting to take any risks, but also not wanting to restrict his movement. The fight ahead was not going to be easy, and he was taking any advantage he could get.

His knife was sheathed on his thigh as usual, a backup weapon. Riptide was in his pocket, though, useless against demons. How it worked against Lucifer, he didn't know. Different physiology was his guess.

Outside he heard cheers for bloodshed. He doubted any of the demons were rooting for him, considering the vast amount of challenges he had received since he usurped the throne. A small number of them probably cheered for Azazel. There was truth to the Prince's earlier words. The demons definitely respected the Prince more than Percy, based purely on seniority, and perceived power.

However, he hoped that would change if, when, he won today. If they believed he could defeat Azazel, then Lucifer wasn't too much of a stretch. However, unlike the fight with the disgraced archangel, this fight was real, not a performance, and there was no guarantee of his survival. But he fought the God of War and lived, didn't die against Kronos, he could do this.

Outside, a voice rose above the cheers, a voice he recognized. The same announcer that had introduced him and Lucifer before their fight, who he now knew as Greed. "Demons!" The Prince started. "Today is a very exciting day, for we are about to be entertained! Azazel, the Prince of the Pride Ring, has challenged Perseus Jackson, our king, for the throne!"

Demons cheered and booed, neither sounding different from the other in Percy's ears. All he registered was a wall of noise. He approached the entrance to the arena and stared through the gate, out into the empty ring.

"Introducing the challenged, our very own King of Hell, Perseus Jackson!" Percy took his cue as the gate rose, and walked out into the arena, the formless wall of noise growing louder. He stopped a couple of feet from the center and waited as the voice announced his opponent. "Introducing, the Prince who needs no introduction, sovereign of the Ring of Pride, my fellow Prince, the Scapegoat, the Eater of Sin, Azazel!"

The gate on the other side of the arena rose, and Azazel stepped out to a roar of cheers and applause. Azazel stopped a few feet from the center as well. Unlike the King, Azazel wore no armor or clothing, just like usual. He was still smooth. Percy wasn't a genius, but he could pick up on the subtext of the choice. Azazel didn't bother with armor, because he didn't think he'd get hit. There was a point when confidence turned to arrogance, and Azazel had crossed the line a couple miles back.

Greed once again spoke up. "Ready fighters?" And at the nods of approval from both fighters, "May the strongest win."

Azazel summoned his sword, just as he had back in his throne hall. Percy unsheathed his sword and held it out. He got into a comfortable stance, his shield and sword at the ready. He waited for Azazel to make the first move, and he didn't have to wait long.

Azazel came in for an overhead strike, using his wings to gain extra height and come down with more force. Percy, in a split second decision, decided not to take the blow to his arm, and rolled out of the way. Azazel slammed into the ground, his sword buried in the dirt. The Prince tore the sword from the ground.

Percy spun around and slashed with his blade, but was a second too late, and Azazel parried and countered with a thrust. Percy blocked with his shield. Azazel spread his wings and took into the sky. Percy let his arms rest as he watched the winged Prince. Azazel circled above him a few times, like a vulture over a decaying animal, before pouncing. Percy once again rolled to the side.

Instead of attacking when he came up from his roll, he got back into a defensive position. The weight of his unbalanced sword was definitely affecting the speed of his swings. He couldn't be greedy with trying to get hits in. If Azazel left himself open, then he would take it. Azazel's form was sloppy, he'd definitely slip up sooner or later, Percy just had to wait.

The crowd was screaming for blood, angry that none had yet been shed. The thumping of the demons stomping in their seats filled the arena. Percy tried his best to block them out, but the rhythm of the stomping soon became the rhythm of the fight as Azazel kept striking in time with the beat. Percy kept defending until he saw his opening and countered. It was a small blow, a graze on his shoulder, drawing a very thin line of the demon's blood. The crowd went wild as they noticed the black contrasting Azazel's paper white skin.

Azazel grinned before swiftly thrusting his blade. Percy knocked it away with his shield, causing Azazel to drop it, before he pressed forward, thrusting his sword. Azazel dodged to the side, just narrowly avoiding getting impaled. The Prince gasped Percy's wrist and pulled him off of his feet. Then he slammed his fist into Percy's face, knocking him back. He dropped his sword and would have lost his shield had it not been strapped to his arm.

Percy hit the ground with a thud. His vision swam for a second, before clearing as Azazel stood above him. The Prince had regained his sword and held it above him, the point hanging above Percy's chest. As the sword came down, the King rolled over onto his stomach. The sword pierced the side of his armor, tearing it. Percy quickly got to his feet and put a hand to his cheek which was throbbing in pain. He pulled his hand away, his fingers coated in his red blood. He wiped them on his chestplate.

He unsheathed his knife and brandished his shield. He needed to be extra careful now, with a lot less reach than he just had. He waited for Azazel to strike, before once again parrying with his shield and swiftly moving into his opponent's guard. He stabbed forward at Azazel's heart, but the demon Prince was quick and the blade found itself in his shoulder. Azazel smacked Percy's side with the flat of his sword, causing the two to separate, and with the knife buried in Azazel's flesh, Percy lost his grip on it.

Percy reached into his pocket and pulled out Riptide before uncapping the pen. The sword couldn't hurt Azazel, but maybe it could serve as a distraction. Their blades clashed in between them, a shock running down Percy's arm from the force behind Azazel's swing. "So many weapons, and yet this is all you've wrought. A drop of blood."

"And a knife in your shoulder." Percy grit out.

"Tis." Azazel drew back, and pirouetted, swinging his sword in an arc. Percy ducked down, the blade coming close to giving him a haircut. He took the chance and pounced forward, tackling the Prince to the ground. Azazel dropped his sword in surprise. Percy lifted his shield and bashed the Scapegoat's face, skin splitting and black blood bursting forth.

Azazel grabbed Percy's arms before he rolled them over and began to punch Percy in the face. The King held his shield up, but Azazel kept on. Blood was leaking down Percy's face now, and he could taste some of the metallic liquid in his mouth. He grit his teeth as the shield shook. Then he noticed the knife still stuck in Azazel's shoulder.

He dropped Riptide before reaching up and grasping the handle. He pushed in, then up, black blood streaming like a river, falling in buckets on Percy's armor. The knife freed itself from the Prince's flesh. Azazel howled. His wings beat rapidly, lifting into the air. Percy kept his grip on the knife, his hand slick from the demon's blood. He stood up and looked at his opponent. Azazel's arm was hanging on by the skin on the underside of his armpit. Vines of the black blood weaved down his arm, creating a hypnotic effect. The blood dripped onto the sand below him.

Azazel charged at him, but Percy dodged and reached out, grabbing Azazel's arm. As Azazel flew past him, the skin tore and with a final resistance defeated, the arm tore free, taking a chunk of skin from the Prince's side. Percy held the Prince of Pride's arm as said demon plunged into the ground, skidding to a halt.

Percy presented the arm to the crowd, who was roaring with approval. The smell of blood and dust permeated the air, driving them into a frenzy. He tossed the arm into the stands and the onlookers all gathered together to try to catch it like it was a stray baseball during a game.

Percy turned his attention to Azazel, who was standing, and glowering at his King. His shoulder was spurting blood. Percy grinned and held his knife and shield ready. Azazel summoned another sword. It was Azazel's left arm that was missing, and he was right handed. But the missing appendage threw off his internal balance.

He took off into the air once again. He was flying through the air like a drunk bird, spinning and doing unintentional barrel rolls. While Azazel was doing God knows what in the air, Percy took a chance to sheath his knife and grab his sword from off the dirt. Now more comfortable with more reach, he watched as Azazel came in hot for a tackle.

Percy held the sword out, hoping to impale the demon on his blade. Azazel turned at the last second and crashed into the ground behind the King. Percy spun around and held his shield out in front of him. Azazel didn't get up. He had crashed multiple times already, it couldn't have been good for his head. A concussion at least. He approached the Prince and quickly climbed on top of him. An idea popped into his head.

He dropped his sword and drew his knife. He placed the blade just underneath the spot where his left wing sprouted from his back. He started to saw through the feathery appendage, more blood leaking as he cut. The resistance let up as the knife came free.

Blood was leaking down Percy's face from the earlier assault, but he pressed on, moving to the next wing. Azazel's remaining arm tried to stop him, reaching behind him, his hand attempting to prevent Percy from cutting off the remaining wing. Percy grabbed the arm by the wrist and plunged his dagger into the Prince's palm. The blade exited out of the other side. He pulled up and the dagger freed itself.

Percy leaned forward into Azazel's ear. "I will break you, before everyone. You and your stupid pride. Your ego will crumble to dust as I saw off your other wing, then your arm, and then your head. I told you earlier. Your head will roll." He whispered, before slamming the Prince's head into the dirt. He sawed off the other wing, just as he said. Azazel thrashed underneath him, before finally throwing Percy off.

Percy dropped his knife as he hit the ground. Azazel stood, black blood flowing down his back and falling onto the ground like a waterfall. Percy let out a breath and went to stand up but before he could, Azazel pounced on him. His remaining hand wrapped around his throat. He squeezed, cutting off air to Percy's lungs.

Percy choked and grasped Azazel's wrist. The Prince of Pride grinned down at him. "Nice knowing you, your majesty."

"You too." Percy said, grinning back. He imagined his hands growing hotter, alight with flame. The smell of burning flesh filled the air between them. Azazel glanced down at Percy's neck and found that the skin around his wrist was becoming black, charred and burned. He lept back and summoned a sword.

Percy took his chance to get up, but just when he got to his knees, Azazel was upon him once again. The Prince was heavy on the offensive, fighting like a cornered animal. Percy just barely blocked with his shield, the force behind the strike shaking the metal. He didn't have a chance to recover as another strike hit the shield. The sword slammed into the shield again and again, a relentless assault. The metal was starting to bend and dent.

Percy grit his teeth before taking a swing at Azazel's face. The shield slammed into Azazel's right eye, the force knocking the Prince to the floor. Percy, breathing heavily, picked up his knife and kneeled over the Prince. He placed his foot down on Azazel's burned wrist. He placed the knife in Azazel's armpit and started to saw the arm off, fulfilling the promise he made.

He finished his work, and pulled the arm off. The crowd was going absolute batshit now, the gratuitous violence getting them all off. Azazel lay on the ground, bleeding out, death creeping close.

Percy unbuckled the damaged shield, letting it fall on the floor. He grasped Azazel's long hair and pulled the Prince up on his knees. Percy looked up at the cheering crowd, calling for death. "Azazel was to be executed for treason. He was conspiring with Heaven to take the throne and place it in the hands of Heaven." The crowd booed, calling for Azazel's death, even more so than before. "He sent assassins, spitting in the face of the one law you have. How many of you lost your lives challenging me, and here he stood, hiding behind hitmen? He's no prince, but a coward. And that cowardice has cost him his pride and his life before you all today." He looked across the crowd. "Let this set a precedent. I will not, Hell will not have any tolerance for traitors."

He turned to look down at Azazel. "Azazel, Prince of Pride, Scapegoat, Eater of Sin—" His voice was filled with venom as he addressed the Prince the same way Mammon had when introducing Azazel. "-You are sentenced to death. May Lucifer spit on your pride."

Azazel kept his chin up high, which was intended to be a power move, a defiant action in the face of death, but all it did was make his neck an easier target for Percy. The King brought the knife to the side of Azazel's neck, before sliding it across the skin drawing black blood. How much more the Prince had in his body, Percy didn't know.

Percy didn't stop at just slitting the Prince's throat and began to make good on his promise, and started to saw through the neck. It took a couple of minutes, especially getting through the spine that ran up the back of the neck, but eventually, flesh tore and blood spurted, and Azazel's head rolled, his eyes empty.

LINE BREAK

Percy cleaned up well. From washing the blood off, to changing from bloody armor to a crisp suit, courtesy of Rastr. His hair still wet from his shower, he sat down on his throne. He nodded to the demon who stood before him.

"Apologies, Moloch, for keeping you waiting."

The demon bowed. He reminded Percy of the Minotar, with his bull head on a human body, but while the Minotaur was shredded as all hell, Moloch was normal, if not a little muscular, mostly due to a low percentage of body fat. His skin was pitch black, like looking into night itself. Flickers of wings sprouted from his back, but the image never stayed, like they couldn't decide if they belonged or not. "It is not a problem, your majesty."

Percy waved for the demon to rise. "Percy will do just fine, if you'd please. Now, I believe you saw what transpired earlier today."

Moloch nodded once, short and curt.

"Good. I am offering you the position our dearly departed Azazel's death has left open. Sovereign of the Pride Ring. Will you accept?"

Moloch bowed once more, a soft bullish grunt coming from his nostrils. "I will, your majesty."

Percy smiled. "I am glad. Now, Mephistopheles has informed me that a ball will be held in your honor in about a week's time. Formal affair, of course. I presume that this is standard procedure for a new Prince?"

"I remembered this being done for the current incumbents, yes. Quite big parties, they were."

"Good." Percy rose. "I congratulate you on your new position. I hope we work together for a long time. You are dismissed."

Moloch bowed once more, before turning and walking out of the throne hall. Percy sat down again, which left him questioning why he stood up in the first place. Presentation, perhaps?

"What now, My Lord?" Mephistopheles asked from his position at the side of Percy's throne. "The traitor has been dealt with."

"Next we find out what Heaven wants exactly. Their motivations. We know they want me to fight them, why they want to make a paradise out of the remains of a battered Earth instead of just making humanity work towards one."

"How do you plan to do this?"

Percy looked at his Royal Advisor and grinned. " What do you think? I'm going to visit them."