"Damnit." Percy gritted his teeth as he got off the back of the Drakon, looking at the towering mountains above. He had finally arrived here two days ago without trouble much to his relief. That relief and hope, however, was quickly dissipating. There wasn't much to these mountains at all. No Doors of Death, no clue that could lead him in the right direction, nothing! All there was here were rocks and black shards of glass. Feeling dread and panic swell in him, the son of Poseidon took deep breaths as he sat down on a boulder, trying his best to calm down.
"What do I do?" He repeatedly asked himself, wishing some kind of idea would pop inside of his head. Nothing was coming to him though. His mind was racing with all kinds of defeated thoughts. This was it. This plan to get to the mountains was the last thing he could think of and it was all for nothing. Feeling tears brim his eyes, he had a feeling this was the end for him. His rations were practically gone, he had no Phlegethon River water left to keep him from suffocating, and judging by the Drakon's alerted eyes that scanned the horizon he was sure monsters were following them.
"Fuck!" Percy reeled back, placing his hands on his face. Biting his trembling lips, he cursed all the misfortune he had suffered thus far. He cursed his luck. He cursed those Godsforsaken Fates. Oh, how he wished he could run them through with Riptide just once before he eventually succumbed to Tartarus's elements. Sighing, he closed his eyes as he thought back on his friends. He wished for a lot of things right now. Sitting there on that boulder for Gods know how long, Percy didn't seem to notice that the Drakon was getting more and more antsy by the minute. Its ears and eyes flickered as if hearing something walking towards them that the demigod couldn't sense. Looking at the son of Poseidon who had seemingly given up, the monster was torn between leaving him behind and staying to protect him. The man had after all saved its life and wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for him.
The sounds of footsteps were ever approaching, however. The Drakon could smell the stench of its would-be captors approaching at a rapid pace. It only had a few minutes until the enemy had descended down upon them. Growling in warning, it hoped that would draw Percy's attention but it seemed he was in his own little world, too grief-stricken that he would be dying here and not returning home. Before they knew it, it was already too late. The Drakon could see their silhouettes painting the mountainside, approaching their position. Hissing out with its forked tongue, the monster that had protected Percy for the journey promptly fled down the mountain, leaving the demigod to deal with the dire situation on his own.
"W-Wha?" The son of Poseidon quickly sat upward once he heard the shuffling footsteps of the Drakon hightailing it out of there. His heart sank when he realized what had just happened. His only true protection down here and his mode of transportation had just ditched him. "Oh, you gotta be shitting me!" He shouted out in utter disbelief.
"Hey, I heard something over here!" A strong, deep voice bellowed against the mountain's walls. Percy's head darted to where he had heard the voice and immediately leapt down the boulder he was sitting on. Hiding behind it and uncapping Riptide, he held his breath as he heard the clanking of armored footsteps approaching. His heart raced and his hands shook as he heard small rocks clatter down the mountainside, signaling that there was more than just one. Daring to peak out, he quickly spotted the figures descending down toward him despite Tartarus's darkness weakening his vision.
"Orcs." Percy surmised dreadfully. There were a lot more of them now than the first time he had encountered them, at least twenty more. Once again they were all wearing black metal armor and were armed to the teeth with a plethora of weapons. Hiding behind the boulder once again, he stared down at the sword in his shaking hand, his knuckles deathly white due to his vice-like grip. This seemed to be it. This was the beginning of the end of his story. There was no way he could take all these guys on, Hades, he barely made it out alive fighting just three of them. Fighting against the burning feeling in his lungs that almost made him cough out, he realized that Tartarus's air was starting to affect him again. With no Phlegethon River water, he was surely to meet his demise even if he were to somehow kill all these monsters.
Feeling something snap inside of him, he gave a crazed smile downward at Riptide, the bronze blade reflecting back his green eyes that were unrecognizable to him. They were fierce and poisonous, not wanting to die without a fight. Yet, hidden behind those emotions, was acceptance. Acceptance of the fact that he was going to die here on this desolate mountain, never to see the light of day or his loved ones again. This acceptance of death lit a fire in his soul, however. If he was to die here today then by all the Gods he wasn't going out without a fucking fight. He was going to make all these Godforsaken Orcs feel his wrath. Feel his fury, pain, and misery. Maybe then, just maybe, they would be able to feel an inkling of his suffering.
Hearing footsteps almost on top of him, his wolf-like eyes stared into emptiness as he waited. Readying his sword and steadying his breath, the first Orc walked inside his peripheral vision, unaware of his presence thanks to the shadows coiling around him.
"Hey, I smell something. It smells like hum-" The orc tried to say but was promptly dragged down by a hand coming out of the darkness. Struggling against the demigod's strength, the Orc had no time to protect itself before it felt the cold sensation of bronze slide harshly against its throat. Gurgling out black blood, the son of Poseidon threw the now lifeless Orc's body to the side and waited for his next victim. It seemed the others hadn't noticed the commotion quite just yet.
"What was that, Urzul?" The closest orc called out, confused as to why its comrade had stopped speaking so suddenly. Receiving no response, the Orc grew confused and began to cautiously walk toward the boulder, unaware that hidden behind it was the wolf of death. "Urzul? Come out now." The Orcs commanded, gesturing for the others to fall in behind it.
By now the other Orcs seemed to realize something was up. Silently communicating to one another to surround the boulder, they prepped their weapons and prepared for the worst. All became silent and still as they zoned in on the boulder they were approaching ever so slowly. The first Orc was only a few feet away before its head was suddenly pierced by a spear thrown through the darkness. A spear that had once belonged to the now-dead Urzul.
The Orcs all snarled and screamed out in fright as they witnessed their friend's head ripped off its shoulders. Capitalizing on their moment of hesitation and fear, the son of Poseidon jumped over the boulder and began his slaughter. Piercing the side of the neck of the closest one to him, he wasted no time going after the next one. He needed to be quick, precise and not take a single second for granted. He would only have a couple more seconds to kill as many as he could before they reorganized themselves. Cutting off the leg of one Orc, he jumped to the side to avoid a sharp curved knife splitting his skull open. Circling behind his would-be killer, Percy stabbed upward into the back of an opening of the monster's helmet, killing it instantly.
Using its armored body as a shield, he blocked the incoming onslaught of arrows as he charged toward their archers. Throwing the lifeless body toward the first ranged soldier, it had to quickly move out of the way less it wanted to be pinned to the ground by the much larger dead Orc. That was what the demigod wanted though. Quickly sidestepping and blocking its path, he was well within this archer's zone now without having to worry about its arrows. Grabbing the monster by its neck, the son of Poseidon threw it against the mountain's rocky wall, the black shards of glass jutting out of the rocks piercing the back of the Orc.
Percy didn't have much time for reprieve though as the next archer had already backed off and was now sending arrows his way. With inhuman reflexes, he somehow managed to catch an arrow just before it nailed his face. Using it to stab upward into the jaw of another charging Orc, he began his pursuit toward the last archer. Weaving and dodging through the projectiles, he quickly descended upon the monster like a wolf ready to kill, slicing the Orc's bow and its head in half with his demigod strength. Not a moment later, however, was his turn to get hit.
"Ack!" The son of Poseidon cried out as he felt the full force of a blunt hammer hit him square in the back. Flying backward, he hit the ground hard, seeing stars and spitting out blood. There was definitely some internal damage. He tried to get to his feet but his body wasn't listening. The strain from fighting and Tartarus's poisonous air was beginning to be all too much. His breathing was beginning to worsen and his eyes bleeding. Looking up in a daze, he could only watch in horror as the remaining sixteen Orcs began to surround him, just itching at the thought of red human blood staining their weapons.
"Not much fight left in 'em. Tie 'em up and send him to the King." One of the Orcs, presumably the leader, said in a somewhat broken Scottish accent. Doing as they were ordered, one of the smaller ones walked up to him with rope in hand, not realizing that the demigod had his pen hidden in his hand. Kneeling down next to Percy, the Orc leaned across his torso to grab his hands which offered the perfect opening for him to act on. Quickly putting his hand underneath the monster's jaw, he uncapped Riptide which immediately jutted outward into the base of its skull. With blood and brain matter splattering down on his face, he immediately pushed the monster off and got to his feet despite the pain.
The Orcs all took a step back in shock as they witnessed this beast of a demigod stand before them, his menacing, poisonous green eyes staring daggers through their souls. Whipping the black goo off his blade with the flick of a wrist, the son of Poseidon got into a defensive posture, prepared to take this fight to the very end. He was not about to be taken prisoner just to be tortured for Gods know how long. He'd kill himself before letting that happen.
"Guess I was wrong." The Scottish-sounding Orc smirked, his nasty fanged teeth jutting outward. "Alright boys, go get 'em for me. Just don't kill 'em!" It said as if he were sending the hounds of war out of their cage.
Percy snarled in rage as he dug his feet into the dirt, watching as the numerous monsters ran right at him with bloodlust in their eyes. Letting autopilot and instincts take over him, he did only what was natural. Dodging, weaving, slicing, and stabbing, he was like a deadly yet graceful ballerina. His attacks were quick and precise, killing anything that dared get inside the range of his sword. Soon enough, black blood coated both his skin and his blade. That didn't mean, however, that he was left unscathed. Multiple gashes littered his body, one of the fingers on his left hand was hanging on by a thread, and blood spilled out from his mouth due to the broken ribs puncturing his organs. Despite all that, however, he was still standing and would continue to do so until every last one of these bastards was dead at his feet.
Before he knew it, that promise was almost fulfilled. All of the Orcs, save one, were killed by his hand. All except the Scottish one that had stayed back to watch him fight.
"Wow." The leader exclaimed, clapping his hands. "When the King told me that I shouldn't take you lightly, I thought he was just joking around. Boy, should I have listened. You certainly live up to the stories I have heard!"
"The King?" Percy wanted to ask but it was taking all of his strength just to breathe. Spitting out the blood that was pooling in his mouth, he decided he needed to end this fight fast. It wouldn't be too much longer until he passed out from the sheer pain and exhaustion he was feeling. Sprinting at his target, he immediately got inside of its guard. He was too close for the Orc to properly use its hammer which meant his attack would go unimpeded. What he didn't expect, however, was for the monster to use his own momentum against him. Kneeling downward and bracing its shoulder against Percy's torso, the Orc sent the demigod flying over him without even moving a step.
Wheezing out the last bit of air in his lungs from the impact, the son of Poseidon barely had enough time to roll out of the way before the face of a hammer embedded itself in his skull. Trying to get up only to find an armored boot hitting his chest, he was harshly sent backward into the side of a mountain, its black glass deeply piercing his back.
"Ugggh!" The demigod grunted out, not having enough air in his lungs to even scream out in pain. Looking out, he noticed the towering Orc walk ever so slowly toward him, pounding its hammer in his hand mockingly.
"Looks like you weren't strong enough for me though. The great Lortar!" The Orc snarled, mere inches away from Percy now. Looking for his sword only to find it on the ground a few feet away, the demigod came to the horrifying realization that it would be far too late until it arrived in his pocket. "You're defeated, Perseus Jackson. Quit your struggle." The monster said, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him upward.
"If you've really heard the stories about me." Percy gasped out, every word feeling like a needle stabbing his throat, as he slyly reached behind and pulled out a black glass shard that was still embedded in his back. "Then you know I'll kill anyone that tries to stop me!" He snarled before driving the glass shard deep into the eye of Lortar.
The Orc screamed out in pain as it dropped the demigod to the ground, desperately clawing at his now-blinded eye. Percy, taking the moment of opportunity, crawled toward his sword which was still on the ground a few feet away. His heart raced and his vision blurred as he desperately reached out for his weapon. He was so close, his hand practically on the grip. Much to his dismay, however, the Orc was not going to let him have the chance.
"You fucking human filth!" It cried out, slamming the hammer into the son of Poseidon's leg, a sickening crunch of bone quickly resonating through the air. Percy didn't have so much as a chance to scream out in pain because the monster just continued to wail on him with all its strength. The demigod didn't know how long it continued because he had quickly passed out from the sheer pain he had experienced. He knew that most of his ribs had been broken. His right leg definitely was. He didn't even want to think of his organs.
All he remembered was going in and out of consciousness once the fight was over. He could only remember bits and pieces like being tied up and dragged off somewhere. One thing he did clearly remember through his hazy vision was entering an old, Greek temple that had lit torches on its columns. On top of the temple were words etched in the marble.
"The King of Kings"
"The true heir of Olympus"
"The harbinger of war"
He didn't know what that meant. He supposed only time would tell. Little did he know, however, that things were about to get a whole lot worse. Not just for him but for the world.