Clovis let out a heavy sigh, tracing the intricate runes on his Claymore. The cool metal hummed faintly under his fingers. Above him, the sky had shifted to deep shades of orange and purple, the sun slowly rising behind the rolling hills that framed Camp Half-Blood. The scent of pine and wildflowers drifted on the air, mingling with the musty aroma of the nearby arena. In the distance, the sounds of sparring campers echoed against the backdrop of chirping cicadas, while the shimmering lake caught the last light, casting golden reflections across the camp.
As a warm breeze rustled the leaves overhead, Clovis leaned against the tree, lost in thought, reflecting on the past year.
Time had slipped by like a fleeting dream. His days blurred together, into a relentless cycle of training that pushed his body and mind to new limits. But it wasn't just the physical challenges that defined his time at camp. Alongside his growing strength, Clovis found himself forming bonds he hadn't expected, expanding his circle beyond the familiar faces of Travis and Connor Stoll. Annabeth, Beckendorf, even Clarisse, had become regular fixtures in his life, offering him a sense of fulfillment he hadn't anticipated.
He had slowly settled into the rhythm of camp life. Every morning began with breakfast in the pavilion, the air filled with laughter, conversation, and the scent of offerings rising from the sacrificial fire. Training sessions were hosted by different cabins, unless Chiron took charge—swordplay for Ares' kids, archery for Apollo's. But for Clovis, the quiet moments at dawn were the ones he cherished most. The rare moments of peace, when the camp was still, often found him wandering by the strawberry fields, where the scent of ripe berries blended with the ocean breeze, and Half-Blood Hill's towering pine tree stood watch like a silent sentinel.
Little by little, the once sleepy, soft son of Hypnos had begun to transform, growing not just in strength, but also finding and embracing his place within this world.
Clovis' thoughts wandered back to those first days at camp, right after his transmigration. He could still vividly recall the moment he stepped into the camp's armory surrounded by gleaming rows of swords, spears, bows, daggers and all other sorts of exotic weapons. Yet none of them felt right—too light, too flimsy, too… wrong. Hours passed as he wandered through the armory, but nothing seemed to fit. Then, at the very back of the room, something caught his eye: a massive, ancient Claymore.
The hilt was wrapped in rough, sandpaper-like monster skin, and its crossguard flared outward slightly, adorned with faint runic symbols.
He ran his fingers over the Celestial Bronze blade, untarnished by age. It was long and broad, tapering to a razor-sharp edge that gleamed gold in the light. Etched into the blade were intricate patterns, swirling like wind or mist. He felt a sudden pull toward it, as though the sword had chosen him. He couldn't explain it, but he felt a connection to the weapon—it looked as if it carried enormous weight, and he honestly didn't think he had the strength to wield it.
Still, Clovis reached out with both hands, grabbed the hilt, and hoisted the enormous Claymore up with a grunt.
His spindly arms shook under the strain, but as he brandished the Claymore, he knew this was going to be his weapon.
In hindsight, Clovis had to laugh at his eagerness to drag that massive sword all the way to the Big House just to show Chiron. The memory still brought a smirk to his face—it had been comical, the way his friends teased him mercilessly for sweating like a madman under the weight of the blade.
When Clovis reached Chiron and informed him that he had chosen the sword, the centaur gave him a curious look. Still, he didn't discourage him once Clovis explained that he felt an inexplicable pull toward the blade, Chiron understood—demi-gods often had strong intuition about such things. Chiron simply marked it down in the camp inventory, noting that the weapon now belonged to Clovis.
At Clovis's request, Chiron delved into the history of the sword. This blade was too unique to be anything but a gift from a god. It had been forged by Poseidon's Cyclops in his undersea forge, using molten lava from the hottest part of an underground volcano in Atlantis, before being quenched in the waters of the Phlegethon, the river of fire.
It sounded incredibly impressive, but in the end, it was simply an almost indestructible Celestial Bronze sword—no special abilities, just raw, unparalleled craftsmanship. Not that Clovis minded; the blade was exquisite. Though, the ability to slice through the air with flaming sword qi wouldn't have been unwelcome…
Its previous owner was Telephus, "Far-Shining," Chiron translated from Ancient Greek. Telephus was the son of Heracles and Auge, the daughter of King Aleus of Tegea. He had been adopted by King Teuthras of Mysia and later succeeded him as king.
Clovis wasn't shocked to learn that the blade had once belonged to the son of Heracles—a king, no less. It was incredibly heavy and majestic. Even if the blade were given to a child of Ares who trained regularly and unconsciously used their divine power to enhance their strength, they would still lack the endurance to wield it for long. But Clovis wasn't deterred by the challenge.
Chiron went on to explain that Telephus met his downfall during the Achaeans' campaign to retrieve Helen from Troy. As they passed through his kingdom, Telephus engaged in single combat with Achilles but stumbled—over a vine, though Chiron believed he had been entangled by the vine. Achilles' spear then pierced him in the thigh, forcing Telephus to surrender, lest he face death. Ultimately, his downfall stemmed from the arrogance born of his royal status and Heracles' favor. Telephus had gravely insulted Dionysus, incurring the god's wrath. "He paid the price for his hubris," Chiron remarked grimly.
Clovis shook his head during the story, thinking about Tantalus, "These ancient kings certainly had a knack for irritating the gods, only to regret it later."
Telephus surprisingly succumbed to the wound, as it would not heal. Chiron suspected had been cursed, Dionysus wasn't the only god Telephus had angered. The sword, unused for decades due to its weight and size, eventually came into Chiron's possession, where it mostly gathered dust, only borrowed a few times over the years before being returned.
Until, that is, it had fallen into Clovis's hands.
The Claymore was his now.
He decided not to give a name to the sword yet and likely wouldn't unless he had the blade enchanted, it would remain nameless.
However, before starting his physical training, which was going to be necessary with this massive blade, Clovis took some time to think and develop a solid game plan…
He decided to wear enchanted weighted bands on his wrists and ankles, which he had soon commissioned to have crafted by the Hephaestus Cabin. When he first requested them, Charles Beckendorf, the head of the cabin, gave him a curious look. But in true Hephaestus fashion, Beckendorf was more interested in the technical aspects than the personal reasons behind it. The bands required complex enchantments, as they weren't ordinary weights—they could be adjusted with a dial to add up to 250 pounds per band, using magic to target nearly every muscle group, the four bands together able to affect the whole body.
Clovis had even asked if they could affect his bones, tendons, ligaments, and nerves, but before he could go further Beckendorf quickly cut him off, saying, "Even if you could survive that, I'm not my father, Clovis. Pulling that off would take years of experimenting, and probably a child of Apollo by my side to consult with."
He blushed deeply, realizing he had gotten a bit carried away. Still, he vowed that one day he'd obtain that upgrade...
After hours of negotiation and ironing out the details, he agreed to pay 500 golden drachmas, plus an additional 250 to a child of Hecate who was on retainer with the Hephaestus Cabin. They would be assisting with the enchantments, bringing the total to 750 golden drachmas.
Fortunately, Beckendorf was reasonable and had heard about Clovis' recent business venture over the past few days, even inquiring about it for himself during the negotiations. Trusting that Clovis could gather the funds over time, Beckendorf agreed to be paid in installments over the next few months.
Additionally, he had requested a sheath for his Claymore, which unfortunately didn't have the convenience of transforming into a pen or coin like Percy's or Jason's weapons did.
Compared to the weighted bands, getting the sheath made had been a much simpler task; it only took a few days to get his hands on it. The sheath was a fine piece of craftsmanship, and was quite reasonably priced. It was specifically designed to accommodate the massive blade, resting diagonally across his back with the hilt protruding just above his right shoulder for easy access.
It was crafted from a sturdy black mystery monster's leather, the sheath was reinforced with Celestial Bronze rivets along the edges to prevent the sword from tearing through. The collar tapered into a thick strap that crossed over Clovis's chest, securing it tightly to his body to keep it in place while walking or running. He figured it was an added bonus, that the strap offered light armor protection over a few vital points on his chest.
He had to admit, the craftsmanship was excellent. After seeing it, he'd worried it might be uncomfortable to wear, but it fit and felt perfect.
On the other hand, it took three weeks for the enchanted bands to be ready, and the wait was worth every moment. The first time Clovis put them on, though, he realized just how intense the training would be. The crushing weight turned even the simplest tasks—like walking across camp—into monumental challenges. Each step felt like trudging through thick mud, every muscle in his body straining under the pressure.
The following week was particularly brutal. His body protested fiercely, with muscles aching and bones creaking under the strain. Despite this, Clovis remained determined.
He had a strategic reason for his approach. A semi-traditional strength training method might have worked for most demigods. But the intensity of the bands could overwhelm and even harm without enough recovery time; they were still half-mortal, after all.
However he had a trick up his sleeve, so he drew inspiration from anime-style workouts, and decided to use the weighted bands, while also utilizing harsh training methods to yield dramatic results.
So, the trick?
Over the past few weeks, while using his ability to grant deeply restful, healing sleep to his customers—a technique he had decided to call "Serenity"—Clovis realized he could also apply it to himself. You see, he discovered that it not only provided his clients with profound rest but also accelerated their healing rate by nearly four times. A twelve-hour period of sleep would give them the equivalent of two full days of natural healing and recovery.
However, when Clovis used Serenity on himself, the effects were amplified, accelerating his healing nearly tenfold—he theorized it was due to the technique's compatibility with his own divine energy. Either way, it meant that a twelve-hour sleep with Serenity equated to five days' worth of demi-god level healing, rest, and recovery. It was a total game changer.
On top of that to ensure he avoided any damage to his body, he had been taking small amounts of ambrosia every other night before bed, just a few nibbles—it still tasted like the warm, rich chocolate milk his mother used to make. Honestly, he tried not to dwell on that too much, as his once warm relationship with his mother had gradually soured since his arrival at camp.
Anyway, to get the ambrosia he needed, Clovis had to purchase it from the Stolls on the camp's black market, as it wasn't readily available anywhere else. Even if he went to Chiron and explained his training regimen, something he wanted to avoid discussing until Luke and the majority of his followers left camp, he knew that Chiron couldn't agree to such an act of favoritism.
After all, any demi-god would find that amount of ambrosia extremely useful, not just him. So, he ended up exchanging some of his spare golden drachmas with the Stolls. They, in turn, traded with Apollo's kids who worked in the infirmary and smuggled out ambrosia and nectar—like he mentioned there were always opportunities to get that bag. It was fortunate that his business was gaining popularity, bolstered by positive reviews of his Serenity power, otherwise he wouldn't be able to afford the ambrosia.
Over the months, the routine became second nature. His body strengthened, his legs and arms grew sturdier. The enchanted bands became a constant companion during his training—whether canoeing, racing with Daphne, or sparring.
As his 12th birthday approached, Clovis pushed himself even further, gradually increasing the weight to 100 pounds per band, bringing the total to 400 pounds. Surprisingly, the bands' enchantments were so precise that even when he wore them on the canoe, it felt as if only his own body was affected, leaving the boat untouched.
How did that work?
Uh… magic?
The added weight significantly boosted Clovis's strength, training all his muscles in ways that would be unimaginable in the mortal world. When he exerted himself, he could unleash immense power. He could swing the massive Claymore with precision, turning the weapon into an extension of his will. In battle, he could endure lengthy fights and deal devastating damage with the Claymore.
He did not deny he had become quite proud of his strength, but he was quickly humbled when sparring, specifically with the children of the Olympian gods.
You see he relied on the innate ability that all demi-gods had to strengthen his body, due to that, his physique was far beyond anything an 11-year-old—nearly 12—could normally achieve. Clearly, he should have an overwhelming advantage, he obviously had a large upper hand with his training method, but while sparring he saw that none of the Children of the Olympians were weak.
Even the children of Demeter who weren't really focused on combat held great strength. Not the same type of strength as his, which came from the physical side of things, but from the sheer enhancement they got when they unconsciously used their divine power to empower their bodies in a fight.
How that worked—he wasn't really sure, only that it happened unconsciously, even with himself. Unfortunately his father, Hypnos, really wasn't a combative god and despite being far more powerful than almost all other 'minor' gods, the Olympians were strong too, very strong, and it passed down. They got a heck of a large buff, if you will, far larger than he did.
Not that he had too much room to complain, he had his own specialities, but it was clear that the Olympians were the ruling gods of the pantheon, with all the benefits it provided.
He often wondered just how powerful the children of the Big Three truly were, considering the incredible feats they pulled off in the books—especially some of the more absurd things Percy did. He had quite the better understanding of just how strong legendary monsters were, so those accomplishments seemed even more impressive now.
It was clear the power levels had been heavily toned down in the books, for demi-gods and monsters, though thankfully, that appeared to be the only inconsistency.
It was no wonder most supernatural beings automatically believed the excuse the Big Three used when they swore on the river Styx to have no more half blood children, because it was pretty reasonable in their eyes. That was a small indication of their natural strength.
Nevertheless, as time went on his growing physical strength and divine buff enabled him to overpower many opponents as his skill with the Claymore steadily improved. Apart from a few exceptions, the real challenges mostly came from the Ares and Athena cabins.
They often possessed impressive physical strength, with some of the older campers even surpassing his own, from years of exercise and training. Their divine buffs were formidable, given that their parents ruled over War and Warfare respectively. This, combined with their natural talent for combat, made them exceptionally dangerous.
The children of Ares had a fierce, instinctive fighting style, relying on brute force and aggression to overpower their opponents. In contrast, the children of Athena fought with calculated strategy, using their sharp intellect to outmaneuver opponents, exploit their weaknesses, and position them at a disadvantage before striking with precise, lethal force.
Clovis experienced both styles firsthand, as his daily sparring with campers from both cabins was grueling but invaluable. Through these sessions, he refined his own unique fighting technique. Rather than the raw aggression of Ares' children, Clovis adopted a balanced approach, combining speed and strength. His claymore served as both weapon and shield—its massive size capable of absorbing even the heaviest blows, while its reach kept enemies at a distance. Yet, when the moment came, he could strike with swift, precise, and devastating power.
After every defeat, he couldn't help but wonder how things might have turned out if he'd used his powers in the fight. The only times he ever used his full strength were when he sparred with his friends, the Stoll brothers, or with Annabeth and Clarisse—that took some convincing—in a 2v1 match. Even then, he made them promise not to reveal how far he had progressed with his powers. Though they agreed to his request after a bit of badgering, their curiosity for the reason was constant.
Perhaps he was being overly cautious, waiting until Kronos' minions left camp before publicly displaying his powers, but he believed it was the wisest course of action and remained firm in his decision—anyway it wouldn't harm him at any rate.
In any case, despite his frustration with losing spars against the children of Ares and Athena, he reminded himself that relying too much on his abilities would hinder his growth as a swordsman. The true challenge was mastering his combat skills first. Still, his drive to improve was further fueled by one underlying fact: Clovis hated to lose.
Physical training, spars and practicing with his Claymore aside, Clovis had included javelin throwing in his training routine, recognizing the need for a ranged combat skill. Initially, his attempts were clumsy, but compared to his performance with a bow and arrow, he'd take it.
Over the months he practiced, he slowly developed a decent accuracy with the javelin, there was a 50/50 chance of death or near death experience, which was a nice way of saying hit or miss. He was getting more adept with his aim and techniques through relentless practice, not necessarily natural talent.
His increased muscle control and enhanced reflexes allowed him to throw with extreme power, though it made aiming a bit more difficult—what a problem to have. In any case he had the makings of a decent ranger, though he didn't actually have any javelins of his own and he wasn't exactly willing to buy some only to potentially lose them after a few uses, Celestial Bronze was expensive.
He had a tentative plan to tackle the issue, but hesitation kept him from moving forward. The plan involved asking his father, Hypnos, for a gift.
Up until now, both before and after his transmigration, he had only ever made sacrifices to Hypnos without requesting anything in return. As Hypnos' only child at camp, he felt confident that making a request for a gift would be successful—unless, of course, his father didn't favor him.
Still, he chose to wait, feeling uncertain and a bit apprehensive about the response he might receive. Logically, it might seem imprudent to delay, especially since, according to his knowledge of the future, Hypnos did care deeply for Clovis. After the second titanomachy, Hypnos would claim Cabin #15, making him the counselor, and transforming it with his unique touch.
He remembered that the cabin would feature lush walls and a rush roof, with a wreath of red poppies hanging on the door. Inside, a crackling hearth would warm the space, and above the mantel would hang Hypnos' symbol: a poplar branch dripping water from the River Lethe into tin bowls. Soft violin music would play continuously, and the air would carry the fresh scent of clean laundry. The cabin would radiate a cozy, comforting atmosphere, making everyone feel like they wanted to sleep. It sounded lovely as he pictured it.
However, Clovis's feelings toward his father were driven by more than just logic, so he continuously postponed any plans to communicate with him…
Beyond the physical types of training, Clovis was also able to dedicate hours each day over this last year to honing his powers over dreams and sleep.
His control over his Sleep Inducement grew sharper—even when faced with five or six weaker campers or monsters, he could put them to sleep with just a wave of his hand.
He practiced his dream manipulation as he guided his clients into restful slumbers making all types of positive, calming visions. He had grown so good at this he didn't even need to visit his clients in person anymore—thank the gods for that, it really made things easier. He'd meet them in the Dream Realm at night and bless them with Serenity.
However, he didn't just focus on peace and relaxation.
There were darker aspects to Hypnos' powers that he started to explore. He learned to invoke deep, nightmare-ridden sleeps, though he rarely used that ability. When he did practice he usually paid off someone in the Hermes Cabin to let him do so.
Yes, paid off. They'd call him a whale if the terminology from his past life was more common here.
Truthfully, the power didn't have any immediate practical use for him, aside from gaining a deeper understanding of the domain of sleep, which he hoped would indirectly enhance his other abilities.
He also experimented by cursing small animals with insomnia, but quickly realized how cruel it was—by the third day, the situation had become quite dire. He ended up rushing a distressed bunny to the infirmary for urgent care and sleep, which made him rethink his approach and pause his experiments with that particular power.
Without a proper target for practice, he figured that if someone royally pissed him in the future, he might curse them for a few days. Humans, after all, were more resilient than animals…
He had been tempted to push his powers further, drawing inspiration from his father's Roman aspect, Somnus. Though their abilities were identical, the way they wielded them differed. Somnus, for example, was notorious for putting idle Roman guards to sleep—permanently, sentencing them to instant death. It shouldn't have been surprising, considering that Hypnos, before retreating to live with Nyx, had once resided in Erebus, the darkness surrounding the underworld. As a god tied to the underworld, Somnus clearly embraced the darker aspects of sleep, and while Hypnos likely could too, he seemed far too lazy to bother.
Clovis, though enticed, wasn't ready to dive into that level of power. From his innate understanding of the ability, he could tell it might easily backfire. If he managed to defeat an enemy in the Dream Realm, he might be able to spiritually wound or even kill them. But the Dream Realm was a double-edged sword—even though it was his domain, he was still vulnerable to counterattacks there.
While his risk of death was basically non-existent as long as he didn't punch way above his weight class, and his chance of taking serious damage was far lower than his target's, the possibility of being hurt spiritually wasn't something he could ignore, so he moved on, deciding to focus on that ability at a later date.
Each day Clovis also set aside time to meditate by the forest's edge or on the beach, focusing on expanding his Dream Insight. He became more skilled at interpreting the cryptic visions that came to him in dreams, learning to distinguish between premonitions and abstract fragments from the Dream Realm. Gradually, he could even control the information he extracted from the realm. It was through this refined Dream Insight, he confirmed the immense power of many of the legendary monsters.
One of the most striking visions he experienced was a dream of Hercules. As he reflected on that vivid encounter, he found himself transported back to that day…
Clovis, having just fallen asleep, found himself in the Dream Realm, where the ethereal mist swirled around him as he tumbled into unknown depths. The scenery shifted rapidly until it stabilized into a vibrant depiction of Ancient Greece. He stood on the edge of a rugged hillside, bathed in the golden light of a sun that seemed to shine solely for this moment.
In the center of the scene, Hercules was locked in a titanic struggle with the Nemean Lion. The beast was enormous, its body as large as a modern five-story building, with thick, glittering, metallic gold fur, impervious to all weapons. Its roar reverberated through the landscape, uprooting trees and causing the earth to tremble. The lion's eyes glowed with fierce, primal intelligence, and each swipe of its massive claws sent enormous chunks of earth flying.
Hercules stood firm, his muscular body glistening with sweat, as he grappled with the enormous lion. His face etched with a grimace of determination and effort, and clad only in a loincloth, he had discarded his massive club and was straining every muscle as he fought for his life.
Hercules wrestled the lion, his powerful arms working relentlessly to subdue the beast. The lion roared defiantly, its golden mane whipping wildly as it fought back. Despite Hercules's incredible strength, the lion's fury was equally fierce.
The two combatants tumbled across the terrain. Trees were uprooted, their roots twisting and tearing from the earth as the colossal forces clashed. Each impact of Hercules and the lion against the ground sent shockwaves through the landscape, causing the earth to buckle and heave. The once-solid ground transformed into a chaotic, undulating surface, with deep fissures, craters, and newly-formed ravines appearing in their wake.
The air was filled with the sound of crumbling rock and splintering wood. The sheer force of their struggle reshaped the land, leaving a lasting imprint of their epic battle.
Clovis observed in awe. His Dream Insight allowed him to feel the heat of the battle, the tension in the air, and the sheer force of Hercules's efforts. The size disparity between Hercules and the Nemean lion was striking. Although Hercules was towering and extremely muscular, he seemed small next to the colossal lion. The beast's immense frame dwarfed the hero, just one of its massive paws was larger than Hercules's entire body.
It was far from the beast that appeared in The Titan's Curse.
Soon, Clovis watched in wonder as Hercules deftly evaded the lion's powerful swipes, his movements fluid and precise. With a combination of agility and strength, Hercules sidestepped the lion's attacks, his muscles rippling with effort. Then, Hercules seized the opportunity, carefully, he began to climb the beast, inching his way up its powerful frame. Each movement was deliberate, using the lion's own momentum to his advantage as he ascended, his focus unwavering despite the lion's thrashing.
Finally, with a Herculean effort—a bit ironic, perhaps—Hercules reached the head of the lion and managed to wrap his arms around the back of its neck, using his immense strength to apply a crushing hold. The lion thrashed, rolled, and roared, causing immense damage to everything in its path but Hercules's grip was unyielding. Clovis could almost hear the strain in Hercules's breath and see the exertion in his muscles as he fought to make the creature succumb to his might.
With a final, determined twist, Hercules subdued the Nemean Lion, his powerful embrace forcing the beast into submission. The lion's roars turned into pained growls as it struggled less and less, until finally, it lay still, its fiery eyes dimming.
Panting heavily, Hercules released his grip on the lion and stood on top of it, victorious but injured, and exhausted. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the hero and the fallen beast. Hercules's chest heaved as jumped down from its head, looking at the Nemean Lion, the weight of his triumph settling over him, like its pelt would soon be.
From his vantage point in the Dream Realm, Clovis felt a mix of awe and respect for the legendary hero. Despite his personal distaste for some of Hercules's actions, there was no doubt that he was a hero, much like Luke would be. Their heroic deeds would ultimately define them as such, the Greeks seemed to overlook any unfavorable behavior, focusing solely on their accomplishments.
Either way, It was still a vivid, unforgettable moment, etched into the annals of history…
The scene underscored something Clovis had long since realized: the monsters in the Percy Jackson universe were far more powerful than anything described in the books. This was perhaps the most glaring inaccuracy he had come to see.
Witnessing such a display of raw power and skill underscored the importance of his own journey, it was part of the reason he trained so hard.
Though nothing compared to Hercules, Clovis's own progress with his powers continued to advance. One of his most significant breakthroughs was mastering the Lethargic Aura. While the other powers he practiced offered valuable insights into the domain of sleep and were enjoyable to experiment with, they weren't particularly effective in combat. Though they provided various conveniences and enriched his understanding, they didn't enhance his power in a meaningful way. Despite this, he didn't regret training them.
However, the Lethargic Aura was different; even before he trained with it, its intensity was overwhelming for most mortals. In the weeks following his transmigration, he gained control over the aura, a necessity given the immense surge in spiritual power from merging his soul with the original Clovis—without control of his powers, he had nearly been driven insane when he first encountered Mr. D, and that was clearly no good.
As for how he managed to control it, he began training with Chiron the day after the incident. It took a few weeks to master his control over his spiritual energy, and as a result, gaining enough mastery over his Lethargic Aura to control it. The training ensured that he would never again inadvertently see too much again.
Personal training from the centaur was rare, but if he had to guess, Mr. D had likely observed his episode at lunch—he was a bit delusional for thinking he hid it from him, and informed Chiron to address it before he'd have to write a death report to Zeus.
Clovis mused to himself with amusement. "That would have likely earned him an extra decade of punishment."
In any case, The Lethargic Aura was the power he was most optimistic about, you see using Sleep Inducement to put his enemies directly to sleep sounded awesome, and it was. Unfortunately he was not Hypnos. He'd exhaust himself very fast if he did that, leaving him open to far too much danger.
So he had decided to focus on combining his combat skills with his Claymore and use the power of his aura passively in battle.
The aura could lull his enemies into drowsiness, slowing their bodies, dulling their reflexes, and clouding their minds. Best of all, it acted as an area-of-effect attack, though using it in such a way needed strong control to avoid friendly fire.
All this could be done without overexerting himself as the cost of maintaining the aura was low in comparison to directly putting someone to sleep.
He had already tested this out in combat as well—the monsters in the forest lost nearly 75% of their combat power against his aura. It was strong.
He recalled back to the first time he used it in battle;
Clovis stood at the edge of the clearing, his Claymore balanced on his shoulder, eyes focused on the dark line of trees. This was it—the day he would test both his combat skills and the power of his Lethargic Aura in a real fight. His heart beat steadily, anticipation thrumming through him.
The forest, freshly stocked with monsters, felt eerily silent, as though even the creatures inside sensed what was coming.
After a bit of searching, he came upon a pack of monsters. A mix of young giant scorpions and snakes burst from the trees, glistening in the dappled sunlight. These monsters, when fully grown, could be quite dangerous. However, in their young state, Chiron had felt confident enough in the campers to place in the forest.
Clovis gripped the hilt of his Claymore and activated his Lethargic Aura. An invisible wave of energy pulsed outward, and a shimmer seemed to envelop the beasts.
Immediately, the creatures faltered. Their once aggressive stances relaxed as they became sluggish. Their eyes, previously sharp with bloodlust, grew heavy-lidded. Clovis could see the effect in real-time: their movements slowed, and they could barely track him with their eyes as he moved. The aura acted like a silent wave crushing them, clouding their minds, and weakening them immensely.
Clovis moved in swiftly, his Claymore slicing through the air with practiced precision. Each swing was deliberate, powered by his enhanced strength. The aura kept the monsters in check, but his imminent threat gave them a small jolt of awareness. The monsters started to fight back. But their attacks? Slow. Predictable.
One snake lunged at him, but its movements were almost lazy. Clovis dodged effortlessly, his blade meeting the creature's side with a resounding swish. The creature let out a pained sound and burst into a cloud of golden dust, leaving behind a gleaming black snake skin.
A scorpion staggered forward next, its pincer outstretched. Clovis pivoted and swung his blade in a powerful overhead strike, cleaving through the air with a satisfying arc and cutting through the beast's defenses with ease.
The real challenge in this fight was maintaining control over his aura, ensuring that any potential allies nearby weren't affected. He had to learn to manage its range and intensity.
It only took a few more moments before nearly twelve monsters had been cleaved, stabbed, or smashed. None of them came close to harming him.
Clovis exhaled deeply as the aura faded away, surveying the battlefield with satisfaction. His combined combat skills and Lethargic Aura had proven exceptionally effective, neutralizing the monsters with minimal exertion on his part…
Afterward he made it a point to humble himself, careful not to get overconfident, he had made that mistake with his physical strength and no need to make it again. The monsters in the forest could be considered the weakest types of monsters, they were there for training and for the brave, to farm drachma from their spoils, not for a challenge.
He knew if someone more powerful or with a strong will came before him than his Lethargic Aura's effect would likely be negated accordingly, at which point if he wanted to use his powers, he'd have to use Sleep Inducement to directly influence them, which as mentioned, was a huge drain on his energy reserves.
The experience was useful though as it had confirmed the viability of his idea in battle. He could already imagine it, charging into an army of hundreds upon hundreds of monsters and casually decimating them like a hero of old, as they stood nearly catatonic…
Maybe he was a little delusional.
With that he turned his attention to the final power Clovis had developed over the year, which was a form of mild shadow manipulation.
A bit surprising, but his father Hypnos being the god of sleep, was greatly linked to the dark, and night where most sleeping occurred. Hypnos was also an underworld deity, and the child of Nyx and Erebus, so he had an affinity to the darkness. It wasn't even close to what children of Hades could do, but it had its uses.
It started small—just subtle movements of shadows around him, bending them to his will in minor ways. He could stretch his own shadow to make himself seem larger and more intimidating, or pull the shadows around him to obscure his presence in dim light, making it easier to remain unseen or undetected. He could even solidify the shadows a bit to make some temporary constructs, like a rope, lockpick, or utensils.
In truth, at first he had started experimenting with the shadow powers because he thought they were cool, and was having fun. But soon he realized that they could provide him with an edge—allowing him to surprise his enemies with an unexpected obstacle or hide when situations became perilous. Thus even if his powers of the shadows were minor he had begun to take it more seriously.
Unfortunately though, no matter how much he wished, he couldn't shadow travel—he didn't expect to be able to; but it would have been epic beyond words. He couldn't have everything after all, his father, despite being linked to the underworld, darkness, night, shadows, etc. was still not a god of them.
If you caught him pouting about it well, could you blame him?
Beyond his increased power and skill over the past year since his transmigration, Clovis's social circle had expanded significantly, which he now considered to be arguably even more important—that was a drastic change in opinion for himself.
His relationships with several influential campers grew deeper over time, turning into genuine friendships, though some were more intimate than others. Although he initially approached them with knowledge of their future usefulness, he soon found himself truly enjoying their company. This made the burden of his foresight even heavier, as he grappled with the weight of knowing that some of these friendships were tied to dim futures.
He resolved soon after to try to do his best to mitigate that, and to help all his friends.
Take Travis and Connor Stoll, for example. Clovis's friendship with the brothers grew much stronger after he enlisted their help with his own business venture. Soon after, he became a regular partner in their world of cunning and mischief, which was a great way to unwind from the grueling training he had been putting himself through. According to them, Clovis had a devious mind, and when they schemed together, well the ideas were downright wicked.
He still remembered one particularly risky prank vividly. What they pulled off was legendary: sneaking into the Ares cabin in the dead of night and switching all of their weapons with prop swords and rubber spears. It wasn't just the weapons though that was a ruse—The real prank came when he and the brothers slipped itching powder into the Ares campers' armor and modified some of the prop swords so they were filled with fart spray that would pop as soon as they put them to use.
The Stolls had wanted to prank the Ares cabin for ages but could never sneak in unnoticed—until Clovis, with his shadow manipulation abilities, stepped in to help. Paired with their own powers from Hermes, they moved in and out so silently it was almost an art form.
By morning, the Ares campers were ready for their training session, but as soon as they clashed swords, the fake weapons, which had seemed so real, bent, snapped, or popped. The fart spray hit and the itching powder soon took effect moments later, causing so much chaos he thought Eris would directly be summoned over.
Furious, the Ares kids had no idea who to blame, because Clovis and the Stoll brothers had already melted into the background, stifling their laughter. It was one of the riskiest pranks they'd ever pulled—if caught, they'd no doubt suffer for months—but the image of their success was priceless, and it certainly helped relieve his anger over the Ares' Cabin's constant rude behavior.
Over time, Clovis's own influence on the Stoll brothers became apparent. Although they clearly didn't train as rigorously as he did, he regularly dragged them into sparring sessions where he often bested them, even without using his powers. When he did use his abilities, it became almost embarrassing for Travis and Connor. However, over the months of relentless practice, they improved greatly. Their natural agility and cunning, combined with Clovis's fights, honed their combat skills. By summer, the Stoll brothers had become notably faster, more stealthy, cunning and more capable fighters with their teamwork which was already impressive, becoming nearly flawless…
At the same time, Clovis had also never expected to find a mentor in Annabeth, but after living at camp for seven years, she had a unique perspective on many matters. Her intelligent mind impressed him, particularly her sharp deductive reasoning. She could easily match his unique train of thought and even expand on ideas in ways he hadn't considered, which surprised him given their difference in mental age but also in culture—he did grow up completely different in his old life. Soon though, their conversations about tactics and monster slaying methods became a regular part of his camp life.
However, being friends with Annabeth also meant long study sessions and endless discussions about architecture. Before long, he had essentially co-authored a new mythology book after she compiled the result of some of their discussions on ancient myths which had been misinterpreted over time. He clarified a lot of information based on the information from his Dream Insight. During those moments, she couldn't quite hide her envy of his ability, something Clovis found highly amusing.
Despite the added workload, Clovis did slowly begin to value her. It was little surprise she was the favored child of Athena, after you got past the proud exterior you could see she was extraordinary. If she had one glaring flaw, it was her relentless desire to prove herself in the outside world, but beyond that, he could easily see why Percy admired her so much.
To reciprocate her friendship, Clovis decided to give Annabeth a taste of the adventure she had been longing for before Percy arrived. If it also further increased the chances of him joining their quest to retrieve Zeus' bolt, well that must be a coincidence.
He planned an expedition into the forest to face some stronger monsters which he had convinced Chiron to summon. Initially, Chiron was firm in his refusal, but mentioning Annabeth softened him quickly—her importance to him was evident. He wasn't shocked, the books alluded to the fact that Chiron was very fond of her, and often confided in her.
Soon after, they found themselves up against a small pack of four young hellhounds. While definitely not as fearsome as the first hellhound Clovis had faced before, these beasts were still formidable, just smaller than the size of a young horse, and enough to make their hearts race. The hellhounds charged with fiery red eyes, claws slashing and jaws snapping, Clovis and Annabeth leaped into action. Clovis wielded his Claymore with skill, and Annabeth's tactical commands and quick strikes complemented his every move. The battle was fierce but quick, with the forest resonating with the clash of weapons and the growls of the hellhounds.
Clovis acknowledged it was tougher than he'd anticipated without using his powers—the hellhounds were definitely a step up from the usual forest monsters.
He later concluded that it was simply a matter of inexperience, not lack of strength or skill.
Regardless, he intensified his training.
Afterwards Annabeth, who was exhilarated by the challenge, burst into laughter once the fight was over. She was clearly happy to prove to herself that she was actually quite good at this demi-god thing, even if this wasn't the 'real world'. Clovis joined her celebration, sharing in her happiness and relieved to have fulfilled at least a part of her adventurous craving, the rest would have to wait.
In the meantime, he had crouched down to scavenge some loot under the incredulous eyes of Annabeth…
Clovis also forged an unlikely friendship. Clarisse and Clovis's relationship had unsurprisingly started rough over a year ago, typical of her initial interactions with new campers, leaving things on a bad note.
Fortunately he didn't get a swirly or anything like what almost happened to Percy, otherwise he might have scrapped the idea of becoming her friend, he did get a beat down during wrestling the first week though.
However, Clovis's persistence and genuine respect for her combat skills eventually won her over. They found common ground in their dedication to physical training and fighting techniques. Clarisse, who initially looked down on him, even more so than others given how lazy he had been before, began to value him as a worthy sparring partner. She certainly made just as much use of him as he did her, sparring constantly in the following days with growing camaraderie.
That said she was most certainly a child of Ares, even if they were friends she was frustratingly annoying, but still somehow thoughtful in a rough way. Dumb tsundere…
The final friend he made was Beckendorf. He initially maintained a professional demeanor with Clovis since Beckendorf was his debtor. However, after Clovis paid him off—more easily than anticipated due to the growing number of customers engaging with his business, Serenity was very useful—their professional relationship deepened into a genuine friendship.
At first, Beckendorf was intrigued but didn't say much about Clovis's unusual request for enchanted bands. Yet, as Clovis returned a few times for maintenance on the weighted bands, Beckendorf eventually asked about his training routine and came to appreciate Clovis's dedication and persistence.
Soon after Clovis often found himself bouncing ideas off Beckendorf about magical enchantments in his spare time, exploring what was feasible without divine intervention. Beckendorf's insights proved valuable, and their interactions continued to become more relaxed. Clovis had noticed that Beckendorf was a lot like how his father Hephaestus was described, slow to make friends, very socially awkward, but soon Beckendorf started seeking Clovis's opinion on his own ideas for unique builds, valuing Clovis's wild out of this world ideas—literally.
In addition to forming these close friendships, he had considered becoming friends with other prominent people such as Silena Beauregard, Katie Gardner, Michael Yew, Lee Fletcher but honestly he didn't have the energy to maintain that many friends, so he just tried to make acquaintances with them.
In similar fashion Clovis also made an effort to get to know many campers beyond his close circle, largely through his business ventures. His natural demeanor and genuine kindness earned him a good reputation. He transformed from the reclusive son of Hypnos, who rarely participated in camp activities, into a more prominent figure known for his intense sparring with a massive Claymore and for using his powers to build a successful business, steadily becoming well-regarded and integrated into the camp community.
Outside of the campers, one of his most notable business interactions was with the Hunters of Artemis, a group of maidens sworn to serve the goddess Artemis, dedicating their lives to the Hunt and rejecting love. They were Artemis's maidservants, companions, and sisters-in-arms.
He recalled back to their first meeting…
Artemis had business on Olympus that week and left her Hunters at camp, much to their displeasure. Their feelings were made clear during a Capture the Flag match shortly after their arrival, where they achieved a complete victory. He wasn't surprised. While the rivalry between the campers and Hunters was strong, Clovis privately believed it was one-sided.
The Hunters had significant advantages thanks to Artemis's blessings: eternal youth, innate archery skills, enhanced physical strength (with their speed even described by Percy as swift as a cheetah), and the ability to speak with animals, among other gifts. Combined with their extensive experience in monster hunting, constant training with ancient hunters—like Zoë, and the guidance of Artemis herself, the Hunters were nearly unbeatable for the mostly young inexperienced campers.
However, the campers didn't seem to mind the disparity in strength, even after losing for the 55th time in a row. The constant defeats might have been a constant blessing in disguise—which was probably why Chiron still allowed them to happen, so they could serve as a motivating force to push the demi-gods to improve. It wasn't that the campers lacked potential; rather, different circumstances had given the hunters an edge in strength.
Either way, Clovis had initially planned to avoid the Hunters, knowing their famous disdain for men. Despite liking them and their goddess in the books, he knew the reality would be different. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you see it—things didn't go as planned.
One day, as Clovis was relaxing by the beachside after training, Zoë Nightshade, Artemis's loyal lieutenant for roughly 2,000 years, caught his gaze and marched straight toward him. He admittedly panicked, fearing he had somehow offended the Hunters and was about to get a beating. His anxiety wasn't unfounded—he hadn't seen the Hunters willingly interact with any male, outside of necessary interactions, without conflict during their stay, though to be fair, most campers deserved it.
However, to his surprise, instead of trouble, Zoë threw him a large bag of golden drachmas. Apparently, the rumors of his business had reached the Hunters. Zoë, with a noble and haughty demeanor, informed him that she had decided to contract his services on behalf of her sisters, and that there was enough payment for the rest of the week. Despite her rude attitude, which Clovis understood given her backstory, he was more than happy to accept the drachmas.
By the end of the week, he had earned 105 drachmas from the 35 Hunters that stayed in camp and was sad to see them leave. Unable to resist the opportunity, Clovis quickly asked Zoë if they could stay in contact through Iris Messaging, so that when his powers advanced enough to reach long distances—or if they were close to camp, they could continue their business transactions.
He had to speak quickly, as Zoë reached for her bow at the mention of keeping in contact via IM.
In the end, a deal was struck. And perhaps, after a week of meeting each hunter in their dreams and blessing them with blissful sleep, they were just a little bit nicer to Clovis…
Ultimately it was these friendships, acquaintances, and interactions that gave Clovis a sense of belonging, something he'd feared he'd never find after his transmigration into this universe.
He felt like they helped him grow as a person and allowed Clovis to adapt to camp life. Both of his past selves, David and Clovis, hadn't exactly been very social, though more so Clovis, so he was very much grateful for their friendship…
Before he could reminisce any further about the fun stuff that had occurred over the year, a loud boom caught his attention.
Thunder rumbled in the distance and a soft breeze rustled the leaves above him, pulling Clovis back to the present. He blinked, realizing how long he had been lost in thought. His hand rested on the hilt of his Claymore, the weight familiar, grounding him. The sounds of camp drifted back into focus—sparring matches, distant chatter, the hum of daily life.
Clovis smiled to himself, the memories of the past year still vivid, and his recall sharper than ever.
There was no need to linger on the past—too much lay ahead for him to dwell on old memories for long. Percy was due to arrive at camp very soon by his calculations. The Lightning Thief had struck months ago. There were rumors of a major dispute on Olympus and whispers among the nature spirits about a looming deadline on the summer solstice had already circulated.
Soon he would be put to the test. Clovis wasn't sure if he was ready for it, but one thing was certain, the plot was about to begin, and this time, Clovis wouldn't just be a bystander.
"Clovis! Clovis! You're up next—are you coming or not?" Clarisse called out, snapping him out of his reverie.
With one final glance at the horizon, Clovis adjusted the Claymore on his back and took a resolute step toward the arena.
Well, before anything, he had to crush Clarisse.
Thanks for the follows, favorites and reviews. I appreciate your appreciation. I hope you all enjoyed the next chapter here. Let me know what you think, also if you see any large loopholes I might have missed; don't think too much on it, this is a fanfiction.
Coming up is a small overview/preview of the next chapter, just so you know, SPOILER ALERT; A lot of the world building info dump and initial character building for Clovis is pretty much done. Next we get more into the plot with more actual dialogue. Percy is set to arrive at camp soon, and Clovis prepares to mentor him so he isn't such a seaweed brain, whilst also befriending him, likely will go all the way till the start of the quest.
