Chapter VI

The Bull and the Scorpion.

"Terra is full of monsters, alright. The only reason we didn't kill them all is that the basterds hid in plain sight thanks to the mist. There's not as ferocious or deadly, but the sneaking basterds can still kill ya if you're not careful."

After hours of riding in the car, Heron nodded to the beat of the song he was listening to on his iPod. As he was in the car, Percy was in the passenger seat with his mother in the driver seat. The son of Sigmar had headphones on, so he wasn't being rude by listening to what was clearly a mother-son conversation between Percy and Sally.

Thoughts of having such conversations with his own mother came through his mind for a few seconds before he shook them away with a small sigh as they pulled up at Montauk by sunset.

Next to the glistening blue waves of the ocean stood an old, charming wood home. It was unusual for him to witness a beach that looked gorgeous; most beaches he had visited were either trashed or littered with plastic.

His dad's company, although still a private military company, would work around the clock to try to keep the earth's environment clean and its animals protected. It was thanks to the efforts of Unberogen Defense Industries that most of the endangered species and plants around the world are slowly recovering.

Heron took in the sight of white sand and a clean blue ocean that sparkled as the sun hit. It made him fall in love with the place instantly. Heron could now understand why Percy and his mother loved this area so much. Peaceful. Quiet. Calming. A perfect place to clear one's mind from the troubles of the outside world.

"Okay boys, why don't you unpack the car while I go pay and let the owners know that we have arrived?" Sally told the boys.

Not wanting to be a financial burden, though, Heron took out his wallet and gave Sally the money he owed her. "Okay, Mrs. Jackson, also here."

"Thank you, Heron; also, call me Sally," Mrs. Jackson said before heading off to pay for the stay. The two boys got out of the car and began unloading the back trunk and taking everything into the cabin. They had made a quick stop at Heron's house to pick up some of his clothing for the trip while also retrieving his weapons.

Yesterday's encounter at the museum was still fresh in his thoughts. Heron wanted to be prepared, given that he was nearly helpless in his fight against the fury. So he decided to bring two of his weapons on the journey as an additional precaution in case another monster came.

Heron concealed Soul-Drinker and his sword inside a secret compartment of his suitcase since the last thing he wanted was for his friend's mother to discover that he had taken weapons with him on their trip. It would be an extremely awkward conversation.

As they went into the cabin, though, Heron started to look around the place.

It was a pretty basic place, with a couple of cupboards, a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a couple of beds. Thankfully, there was a bunk bed and a double bed, so they would not have to worry about anyone sharing or sleeping on the floor.

"It's not much," said Percy, setting his bag down and looking around the cabin. "But I have loved coming here since I was little."

"I can see why; there's barely been a single sign of waste since we arrived." Heron stated this as he looked around the place. "It's very cozy."

"Yeah, but for my mom, there's a more special reason," Percy said.

"Oh, and what is that?"

"My mom fell in love with my dad here."

"You never talk about your dad very much."

Percy shrugged his shoulders. "I've never met him. I can't recall ever meeting him. Maybe the faintest hint of a smile, but that's it. My mother described him as incredibly rich and strong, but also quite sweet. Apparently, I share his eyes and hair. They spent their time here at the beach, but when my mother discovered she was carrying me, he had to depart for work. He traveled across the seas and never returned."

"What happened to him?" asked Heron.

"She said he was lost at sea—not dead, just lost at sea. She doesn't like to talk about him much; it makes her sad."

Heron watched the incoming figure of Sally Jackson and couldn't help but feel a little bit of sadness for her. She was a good woman, but unfortunately, a lot of bad things happened to her in her life.

Looking at her now on this large patch of sand called a beach, Sally Jackson looked happy. Like the years had been taken off of her and made her younger.

I suppose locations that make you joyful simply have that impact on people. Heron thought

When Sally got back, the trio quickly unpacked and made their way outside so they could enjoy the cool air. Since it was summer, the sand was warm when stepped on, but the moment they dipped their feet in the water, it was as cold as ice.

After swimming for a couple of hours, they played a little game of baseball. The three of them took turns batting, pitching, and playing on the grass field nearby. What surprised Heron, though, was that Percy was great at it, but it was mostly swimming that he excelled at, while he himself was no slouch in swimming either; Percy could outswim the fastest swimmers on the American national Olympic swimming team, making Heron wonder why Percy didn't do any sports, swimming included.

After the day changed into night, the moon was high in the sky, causing the ocean to glitter and gleam just like it did during the day.

The trio sat around a cozy campfire as they roasted marshmallows on the end of a stick and made idle chat. Sadly, a storm suddenly

"Mom, what was dad like?" Percy suddenly asked, which caused Heron to look at him with surprise as Percy didn't talk much about his dad. The warrior of order saw Sally's eyes go misty, showing that Percy has asked this question a lot in the past.

Sally put her stick with the roasted marshmallow gently on the ground, trying to avoid getting sand on the tasty treat. The look on her face told Heron that Percy must have asked that question a lot. Plus, being here, where they met, just spurred it on.

"He was kind, Percy." She said, "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle too. You have his black hair, you know, and his green eyes." Sally fished a jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy. He would be so proud."

"How old was I?" Percy asked, pushing for more answers. "I mean, when he left?"

Sally watched as the flames flared. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. It was right here on this beach. This Cabin."

"But... he knew me as a baby, right?"

"No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born."

Percy nodded, obviously feeling a little hurt that his father never really met him when he was just a baby.

"What about you, Heron?" asked Sally to change the subject. "You've only spoken about your father but not your mother." She was curious because he never really spoke about his mother, only his father, who lived in

Heron stopped eating his smore for a second before swallowing his treat. Like Percy, Heron never really knew much about his birth mother other than that she loved him dearly.

Heron started to play with the wood in the fire, letting the heat wash over him like welcoming an old friend as he stared into the fire, watching the flames flicker.

"I never met my mother; all I remember is the sensation of warmth. My father said that I got her hair and brown eyes, that she loved me and would never leave me when I was born, and that her charm and beauty would comfort him in the worst of circumstances." Heron smiled sadly. "But according to him, her enemies and her family forced her to leave."

The stink in his hand began to crack as his grip began to tighten. "On the day she left us, a stalker came by and attacked my dad. tsch, it wasn't even considered a far fight. For the stalker, that is."

"What happened next?" Percy asked

"My dad, a former Delta Force operator, thus caved the guy's skull in like coconut. Don't worry, he didn't kill them. Only just put in the ER for the rest of his life."

Sally frowned, as this sounded suspiciously familiar. Is he like Percy?

The conversation went on quite a bit before things picked up. Percy asked Sally if she was going to send him away to another school again, to which Sally replied she didn't know but they'd have to do something. Heron watched, feeling a little jealous as he watched Sall hug her son and stare into the fire.

"Heron?" Sally snapped the Son of Sigmar out of his thoughts, and he looked to see her and Percy standing up. "We're going in; don't be too late." She gave him a motherly peck on the forehead.

"Sure." Heron said it with a small blush. "I'm just going to watch the stars for a while." They nodded and went inside, shutting the door behind them. Heron looked at the fire before looking at the stars, seeing that the constellations were out tonight.

He wondered if his mother enjoyed stargazing, and if she did and he met her, they could stargaze together. The young Heldenhammer looked into the fire for a while before he got to his feet, brushing sand off his jacket, and looked at the stars again.

"I hope we meet soon, mom." Heron whispered to himself before he turned and made his way to the cabin, unaware of warm brown eyes appearing in the fire and watching him head into the cabin, care evident in her eyes before the eyes disappeared and left a small fire burning.

Simultaneously, another set of eyes rose from the forest's darkness, but this time they were blood red and filled with ferocious anger and wicked, cruel vengeance. Not Sigmar's offspring, but Poseidon's son. Death will come quickly for the offspring of the man god. It was the least he deserved. But the other boy was the son of the god of the sea.

He'll die in anguish.

IN PAIN!

Heron jolted out of bed, swiftly pulling out the knife from under his pillow. A force of habit he picked up during his travels in the realm of Ghyran and the Drakwald Forests.

"I have been searching all night. What were you both thinking!?"

Wait, is that Grover?! Heron quickly looked over to the door and saw Grover with goat hooves—wait, hooves! Heron attacked the disgraced bray with lightning speed, snatching him by the scruff of his shirt and hurling it over his shoulder to the other side of the cabin.

The thing he once called a friend cried out in shock and surprise as it flew in the air, smashing into the logged cabin wall and hitting the ground with a loud thud, then falling like a sack of rocks.

Upon regaining consciousness, Grover was confronted with the sight of a blade, embellished with a skull symbol, impaling both of his arms and immobilizing him on the ground.

"Holy shit!"

"Heron!"

Heron disregarded his surroundings, fixating his gaze on the beastman spy before him. He forcefully seized the mutant by the hair and yanked, compelling Grover to meet his intense, furious stare. All the while, Grover screamed at the top of his lungs in utter pain, and at the same time, the fire that was heating the cabin suddenly grew hotter along with his rage.

"GIVE ME ONE GOOD REASON NOT TO FLAY YOU ALIVE AND I'LL GIVE YOU A SWIFT DEATH HORNED ONE!" Shouted Heron, his voice louder than thunder, while every instinct in his body is screaming at him to kill this thing here and now. Grover not only deceived him but also

"Heron, let Grover go!"

Heron snapped his head at Sally Jackson so quickly that she believed the adolescent would have whiplash. All the time, Heron gazed at her as if she had sprouted a second head—no, she could have a second head hidden someplace on her body. Ever so slowly, he stood back up, giving the older woman a hard stare that only older men should have on their faces. Rage.

"You know what this... thing?" He inquired, his tone deadly calm, referring to Grover, who was still screaming in agony.

Sally nodded "Yes, I know what he is—a satry, so please let Grover go." She pleaded with him, but Heron stared at her with a look of surprise.

"Wait a second. Did you say satyr?" Heron asked.

"Yes."

"You mean the silenos? Male nature spirits of Greek mythology."

"Yes!"

"Known for being lovers of wine, music, dancing, women, and the companions of god Dionysus."

"YES!"

"Known for having sex themselves?"

"YE-wait what?"

Heron looked blankly at Grover for a second and said, "Oh my god, I'm friends with a sexually active rapist who masterbates with himself."

When he said those words, Grover's face turned bright red in anger.

"DUD, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR DO I MASTERBATE!?" Grover yelled out in indignation and pain.

"The things I heard about your kind tell me otherwise." Heron calmly shot back. "According to ancient Greek myths, satyrs would frequently try to seduce or rape nymphs and mortal women in order to propagate. Not surprising, Satyrs are more commonly associated with "bestailility urges" than with horses in heat."

"Hey, I take offense to that insult!?"

"Like, I give two shits what you think." Heron spat out as he pulled out his hunting knife in one swift motion so it would not leave any permanent damage to Grover's arm muscles. Then gesturing to Grover and Sally goat legs."Now, do you mind explaining this?"

"Later, after you bandage your arms, please." Grover grunted in pain.

"You'll going to need a extra limbs if you don't explain to me why your here in the first place." Heron threatened.

Just then, a thunderstorm sounded throughout the area, and the winds began picking up. Heron looked outside in confusion. There weren't supposed to be any lighting storms.

"Percy," she said, shouting over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

Percy was frozen, looking at Grover, so Heron explained what happened with Mrs. Dodds. They also heard the conversation between Grover and Sally, who went even paler after the explanation and got the car key's

"Boys, get in the car."

Grover ran for the camaro, but he wasn't running exactly. He was trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs made sense. He opened all the doors to let them in, and soon they were all in the car, with Sally driving them off from the cabin.

The car accelerated through the night as they traveled along the dark country roads. The wind was slamming into the Camaro. Rain lashed the glass of the windshield. Despite the fact that the windshield wipers cleared the windshield, they were ineffective owing to the amount of rain.

No one knew how Sally could see where she was going, but she kept driving as if she were on autopilot.

"So, um, Grover, you and my mom know each other?" Percy asked, finally finding his voice.

"Sort of off." Grover said, "She doesn't know me very well, but she knew I was keeping an eye on you. Both of you." He looked at Heron as he said that.

With an arched eyebrow, Heron spoke the words, "So what? You pretended to be our friend while watching us like common prey."

"Yes-no! I was keeping tabs on you both. Making certain you were both okay. But I was not faking my friendship with any of you." Grover added hastily, "I am still your friend."

"Urn, what are you, exactly?" Percy asked, looking at Grover's goat legs.

"That doesn't matter right now." Grover tried to dismiss it. looking out the window.

"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is not only a rapist but also a donkey.

Grover let out a sharp, throaty, "Blaa-ha-ha!"

Heron snorted when hearing that, despite the fact that the situation was pretty funny.

"Goat!" Grover cried.

"What?' Percy asked with a confused tone.

"I'm a goat from the waist down. And I'm not a rapist either!"

Heron raised an eyebrow," Meh, I really doubt that." Considering he met some of his kind during his travels in Achronia, seeing a half man, half goat wasn't that odd to him. "So you're one of those Satyres from Greek mythology."

Grover looked surprised but nodded. "How did you know?"

"My dad told me to read all the mythology around the world. Greek included. Gave me quite the headache." Heron said

"Percy," Sally said, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what? Who's after me?" Percy asked, confused by everything that was going on.

"Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey. "Just the lord of the dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Come again?" Heron asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, Percy's mostly in danger, but we needed to get you away as well." Grover said before he realized just what he said.

It was then that Sally made a hard left along the road before the group found themselves driving past a large strawberry farm that had large wooden houses that looked dark. There was also a large pocket sign that said, "PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES."

"Where are we going?" Percy asked.

"The summer camp I told you about." Sally's voice was tight, as if she were fighting with herself about something.

"The place you said you didn't want me to go." Percy said that causing Heron's eye to twitch and shaking his head were not helping matters.

"Please dear." Sally begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. Your in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut some yarn." Percy said, referring to the three old ladies they saw yesterday.

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the fates. Do you know what it means—the fact that they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to... when someone's about to die."

"Whoa. You said "you." Percy said, catching onto that.

"No, I didn't. I said'someone.'"

"You meant 'you.' as in me."

"I meant you, like'someone.' Not you, you."

"Now we're just making this a lot more confusing; stop trying to explain the meaning here and get to the point." Heron said with a shake of his head.

"Are you okay, Percy?" Asked Sally.

"Huh, oh yeah, I'm okay. Just when I went to sleep a few hours ago, the last thing I was expecting was to be driving down a road full throttle with my friend, who turns out to be a Satyr that was supposed to be a Greek myth," said Percy sarcastically.

All of a sudden, Heron whacked him in the back of the head. "Do not badmouth; don't you see you're hurting your mo-"Heron was cut off when Sally made a sharp turn, and a large figure suddenly appeared beside the car. She narrowly missed it.

"What was that?!" Percy asked.

"We're almost there," Sally said, ignoring the question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please."

It was silent for a second until a blinding flash came out of the sky and lit up the area before the car suddenly went up in the air and caused the car to flip over and land on the ground upside down.

"Shit," moaned Heron as he held his bleeding forehead. "Oh gods, that's going to be sore in the morning." He heard Sally ask if anyone was okay with him just giving a thumbs up.

He looked up to see the roof had cracked open like an eggshell, and rain was pouring in that had blackened edges around it and was still giving off small traces of smoke, indicating one thing. Lighting. A bolt of lightning. That was the only explanation.

He looked to see Grover knocked out, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. Percy asked Grover if he was okay, and when he groaned "food," Heron knew he was. Heron kicked his door open so hard that it came off the springs. He then crawled out, helping everyone else do the same and taking Grover with him.

"Boys, we have to get out of here," Sally said before the sound of loud stomping could be heard coming down the road. The group looked down the road to see a large figure lumbering towards them. It looked as if something was covering his head and had its arms up high in the air like sharp points.

"Everyone out of the car now!" Sally yelled as she and Heron, who slung his briefcase on his shoulder, kicked their doors open and scrambled outside. Sally went around to help out while Heron dragged Grover out and carried him on his shoulder.

"Boys, do you see that big tree?" said Sally

"What?" Percy asked, and Heron looked at where Sally was pointing to see a large pine tree at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line; get over that hill, and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run, and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

"Mom, you're coming too."

Her face was pale, and her eyes were as sad as when she looked at the ocean.

"No!" Percy shouted. "You are coming with us. Help me carry Grover."

"Food!" Grover moaned a little louder.

"Seriously, Grover, if you weren't my friend, I would turn you into lamb chops." Heron said with a shake of his head as he adjusted Grover onto his shoulder. "I got him; now let's get out of here!"

The large man that was chasing them kept coming toward them, making grunting and snorting noises. As he got closer, Heron saw that it looked like a normal man because his hands—hugy, meaty hands—were swinging at his sides. What Heron thought was a blanket over his head was actually his head. At the points that looked like horns, a beastman.

"He doesn't want us," Sally told Percy and Heron. "He wants you, Percy. But he may also want you as well, Heron."

"Mom, that thing. That looks like-"

"Don't say its name, Percy. Names have power."

"Names only have power if you let them. By not saying the Minotaur's name, you are giving it more power. In other words, I will call whatever I encounter by its name." Heron said it with a condescending tone.

"B-but how can it be real? Those were just myths," said Percy as he ran alongside Heron, his hand still holding on to his mother.

"Percy, I got an unconscious satyr on my shoulder, and a bull-man hybrid from Greek myths is chasing us." Heron said. "Now, let's hurry and get out of here!"

He ran towards the pine tree, Percy and his mother following behind him, with the bullman heading over to the car, probably to check if anyone was there. The pine tree was still way too far—a hundred yards uphill at least. Heron was doing fine, thanks to his Azyr side, but Percy and Sally were still humans and didn't have the stamina a warrior comes with.

"His sight and hearing are terrible," Sally said. "He is going by smell. But soon enough, he'll figure out where we are."

One cue: the minotaur bellowed out in rage. He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded.

"It looks like you spoke too soon," Heron growled as he got closer to the tree.

"When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way, directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?" Sally asked.

Heron nodded, but Percy was still confused. "How do you know all this?"

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me."

"Keeping me near you? But-"

Another bellow of rage, and the Minotaur started stomping uphill. He had smelled them. The pine tree was only a few more yards away, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker. Heron was making it to the tree, and he stood Grover down against it. Putting his suitcase down next to Grover, Heron opened the secret compartment and grabbed his sword and soul-drinker from his case. Before going to help Percy and Sally, Sally separated from Percy to try and distract the Minotaur.

It was then that Heron saw something amiss with this scene as soon as he got a good look at the beast.

Minotaurs, also known as Bullgor's, are a massive bull-headed breed of the Beastmen race that are known famously for their savage temper, brute strength, and insatiable hunger for hot blood and raw flesh. Often growing to twice the height of a man and far greater in muscular bulk, their thick-skulled heads are broad and ugly, and their sharp horns can eviscerate with a single thrust.

Heron knew from personal experience, having battled numerous of their type on the Mallus Sacundes and other mortal realms. But this thing wasn't the same Minotaur he'd fought and killed. It looks weaker. Civilized. Yes, all the bestial traits are there, but Heron saw no weapons from fallen heroes, rivals, or even skull trophies of its victims.

Whatever this creature is, it's not a creature of chaos.

He saw Percy making his way up the pine tree alone, but looked in horror when Heron saw Sally running in the opposite direction and back towards the road.

The minotaur grunted, pawing at the ground. He kept eyeing Sally, who was retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road, trying to lead the monster away from them.

"Run boys!" Sally shouted. "I can't go any farther. Run!"

Percy just stood there, frozen in fear, as the monster charged her. She tried to sidestep, as she'd told them to do, but the monster had learned its lesson. Its hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck as she tried to get away, lifting her as she struggled, kicking, and pummeling the air.

"NO MOM/MRS J!" Percy and Heron yelled, but it was already too late.

Sally looked at them one more time and choked out one word. "Run!"

Then, with an angry roar, the monster closed its fists around Sally's neck, and she dissolved before their eyes, melting into light in a shimmering golden form, as if she were a holographic projection. A blinding flash, and she was simply...gone.

"NO!" Percy yelled in horror as he saw his mom disappear in a puff of golden dust in front of him and drop to his knees, but Heron had a blank face. Stoic as stone. But if one peered into his eyes, one could sense a suppressed fire of hatred. A righteous hatred.

A hatred of mutants, a hatred of heretics, a hatred of the unclean, and a loathing of daemons. The same hatred—the same rage—boiled within Heron every time he saw brave men under his command die horribly at the hands of monsters who only saw humans as cattle, at the hands of fellow men who surrendered to dark powers far older than time itself to creatures who only desired the pleasure of war and slaughter. Now that rage will finally be directed

Another terrifying roar erupted from behind the forest line. Heron carefully raised his head to see a hybrid of a lion and a scorpion emerge from the forest's shadows and ramm into the Minotaur.

Heron realized immediately that this new beast was a Manticore. However, it does not have gigantic bat-like wings and a face of a lion like the ones currently used by the great Tahlia Vedra, the lioness of the Parch, Freeguild commander, and the current First Marshal of Hammerhal. However, the ground beneath its feet recoiled against them, and the rich dirt deteriorated with each stride.

It barely took a second for Heron's keen eyes to spot over a dozen sickly dark green stones protruding from its thick skin like ticks on a wild beast. The Manticore's eyes were erratic, swaying back and forth, choosing one of the three to kill first.

Heron's eyes hurt every time he gazed at the intricate designs carved into the surface of the stones on his thick skin. Whatever it is, this beast must have been connected to the fictitious minotaur.

Heron had to laugh sourly at what had happened. "This has to be some cruel joke. A minotaur first, then chaos corrupted Manticore; what will happen next, a Ghorgon?" Heron muttered gently to himself.

Percy was in shock at the death of his mother, who had reared him for virtually his entire life. However, he was aware that she had departed this world and would never return. So when Heron spoke, his words were only echoes that were muffled by cold reality.

"Come on, we need to go. We cannot let her sacrifice go in vain." Heron murmured as he grabbed Percy's arm and tried to rush him over to the tree, where Grover was still unconscious. But Percy just shoved Heron's hand away, as the twelve-year-old was filled with the need to avenge his mother.

As the Manticore's sharp claws tore into the Minotaur's flesh, Pasiphae's son let out a wailing howl. Golden blood poured out of its wounds like a fountain. Then, whether out of pain or anger, the minotaur sent a powerful punch to the manticore's face. The blow snapped two of the manticore's keen teeth, followed up by another earth-shattering fist that could tear a normal mortal's head off in a gory mess. In retaliation, the Manticore thrust its scorpion tail at the minotaur.

Piercing the Minotaur's right shoulder blade with such anguish, the animal let out a high-pitched cry before grasping the manticore's scorpion tail with his two hands. The Minotaur pulled the stinger of the manticore out of his shoulder and then, with all of its might, threw the manticore into the numerous trees and sent it flying a full three kilometers into the treeline. However, whatever poison could have been contained within the manticore caused it to lose its strength.

Once the Minotaur laid its eyes on them, it returned its focus to the demigods, charging at them.

At the very last second, Heron gave Percy a shove in front of him. He then removed the Sigmarite blade from its sheath and elevated his warhammer to a ready position. He blocked out everything around him and focused just on the bull-headed adversary in front of him.

Over time, Heron grew accustomed to facing more powerful adversaries. Heron requires only one flawless stroke of his sword to precisely sever the Minotaur's limb, following which he can deliver a powerful hammer blow to its brain.

With a savage roar that reverberated across the forest for miles, the minotaur renewed its charge. Rage started to run through the creature's veins as its legs carried it onward. Fully intending to kill these two demigods once and for all, except when staring at this single demigod who stood before his wrath.

About two seconds in front of the thing, Heron let out a warcry of his own, swerved to clear the path, and used all the power his one arm could summon to swing his sword at its unarmored shin. He could hear the sound of steel cutting through meat and bone over the sound of thousands of raindrops and the crack of thunder.

The minotaur crashed down to the ground, scraping up some soil, and screamed in anguish as its stump poured gold blood across the ground. Slowly it

Heron would have finished off right then and there if not for Percy Jackson, who ran past him at full speed, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Hey! Ground Beef!"

"PERCY WHAT IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU DOING!"

However, just as the minotaur got close, Percy did something incredible. The twelve-year-old tensed his legs, jumped into the air, used its head as a springboard, and then wrapped his legs around its neck.

It appeared to be a tug of battle until the audible crack, at which point Percy hoisted the broken horn over his head and thrust its spear-like tip into the minitour's eye socket. Killing it. The beast roared in pain and dissipated in gold dust. Scattering

"Nice job, Percy," said Heron before he saw Pery knocked out from exhaustion.

It was then that every human instinct in his body screamed at him. Danger! Heron rolled out of the way as a giant scorpion stinger the size of his arm landed on the moist ground where he was once standing. He grunted as he faced the now-snarling corrupted manticore, which had freed itself from the tree that had fallen on it.

As the two opponents gazed down, Heron noticed the majority of the wounds from the beast's battle with the minotaur had already healed.

"Alright, come on, you ugly basterd, let's see how you like the taste of azurite steel." Heron snarled.

As though responding to him, the Manticore hissed back at him. Heron felt that this creature had greater intellect behind it, even if he was unable to comprehend it. The two adversaries made a leisurely circle around one another. The surrounding forest seemed eerily still, seemingly defying gravity, as though the entirety of the wild world was holding its breath to see who would challenge the other and emerge victorious.

The rain finally stopped, for which Heron was thankful, but he knew the rain turned the ground into mud, making it hard for the two of them to move fast enough without slipping. However, Manticore's weight and mass would keep it from falling into the mud. Heron, though, didn't have such a large muscle mass, but what he does have is mobility and cold, hard experience.

It was like a starting gun, in the form of a bolt of lightning, suddenly cracking in the sky, causing the two of them to charge at each other.

The manticore immediately lifted its upper body, swiping wide at Heron with its razor-sharp claws with the full intent to shred the thirteen-year-old in front in twine. Heron retaliated by lowering himself and sliding down, using the mud to barely avoid its broadsword blows, before slamming his warhammer into one of its legs.

The soul-drinker's flat end landed heavily on one of the monster's hind legs. Heron heard bones cracking and flesh ripping as the beast shrieked in agony, and he had to retreat swiftly to avoid being stung by a manticore that was attempting to skewer him, but each time it failed to hit him.

Its lethal stinger was pointed directly at Heron's, yet it missed the thirteen-year-old by a hair's breadth before striking again. Heron, though, continued to move. Avoiding the stinger's course and then striking the beast in the flesh with his sword or breaking bones with soul-drinker in brutal retaliation.

Heron could only stare in horrified fascination as the beast's skin quickly recovered from the wounds he had made. The beast was now capable of healing wounds quickly. All because within its flesh is a wretched stone called a warp stone.

Crushing the soil beneath its paws with its fists and cutting at tree trunks with its talons, it sought revenge on Heron, who had escaped death until the last moment. This lethal dance between man and beast lasted half an hour, with both opponents drenched in muck, scarlet, and golden blood from their wounds.

Its fatal stinger was aimed squarely at Heron's belly, yet it only missed the thirteen-year-old before attacking again. Nonetheless, Heron continued to travel. He skirted the stinger's path and then struck back, tearing the beast's flesh with his sword, but the beast immediately retreated, leaving just minor wounds.

In time, though, the wounds would soon rapidly heal. Heron, like a warrior of old, would continue to use his sword to hack at the beast while breaking its bones with his hammer.

Just as Heron was ready to chop off the beast's scorpion's tail with his sword, the stinger vanished, allowing Heron's blade to cut through the cold, empty air.

A dreadful realization came up to him. He was now exposed.

In those seconds, the monster materialized before him and slashed at Heron with its claws. At the last second, though, Heron used the flat end of his sword to protect himself, but it shattered into hundreds of pieces upon impact.

The impact on his upper torso, along with the creature's forward velocity, sent him tumbling backwards before he crashed into a nearby tree. As Heron let out a cry of agony, he could feel the shards from his sword that were now lodged in his flesh. Once his vision began to clear, he caught sight of the monstrous creature approaching him with a human-like grin. Pushing with all the strength he could muster, Heron was able to get back to his feet when it opened its mouth to bite him.

"Well, come one then!" Heron yelled.

At the last moment, Heron rolled out of the way as it closed its jaw, chomping on the tree trunk instead of human flesh.

Heron spun around, grabbed his broken sword from the ground, and plunged it into the beast's neck. He let out a vengeful roar, dragging his sword across the monster's neck, slicing it across the beast's throat, and spilling all of its golden blood onto the forest floor, turning the entire ground the color of gold. The manticore's paw immediately raced to its opened throat in a desperate attempt to stem the bleeding, and its eyes dilated with horror and dismay as he staggered backwards.

Heron grabbed hold of the soul-drinker's handle with ferocity and summoned the power that was given to him by his mother. A second later, the warhammer's head burst into flame like a torch in the night, revealing ancient dwarven inscriptions engraved into the metal.

He charged the beast's face, both hands drenched in blood, and let loose an ordinating yell of ancestral hate. He swung down Soul-Taker, smashed down on the beast's entire skull in a single mighty blow, and obliterated it. The hammerhead's flat face ripped veins in its brain, smashed the skull, and pushed bone shards into it. It was then followed by its entire body, which burst into flames.

Like so many others who engaged him in single combat throughout the years, they were all killed by his rage. Heron watched the beast's body fall to the earth.

He could feel something wet running down his face. Heron managed to move his hand up and wipe whatever was off. But Heron looked at his hand to see familiar red liquid dripping from it.

Blood.

His own blood.

Wheezing in pain Heron limped

When Heron heard a pair of footsteps from his side, he turned around to see that it was a girl. A girl made Heron's breath freeze in his throat when he saw her, and he couldn't stop staring.

She looked to be around thirteen years old. She had silky black hair, which he had only seen in high-end salons. Her hair ended at her lower back. She had pink eyeliner and lipstick on her lips, which added to her beauty. She also wore an orange T-shirt and blue jeans.

All in all, aside from the brothels of Aphrodite, this girl is the prettiest one he has ever seen.

His body began to feel chilly, and his strength faded. The world started to dim around him, but the sun had not set yet. Heron could have sworn he heard the girl in front of him calling out to him, but he could not make out who it was. But with the last of his strength, he said one word. "Beautiful."

When he said those words, the girl's cheeks blushed red until she caught Heron when he fell forward into her warm arms.

Heron could hear footsteps running toward him, and a few more voices followed after that. The darkness was closing in, and with it, his sight was fading. But before the darkness overtook him, Heron could have sworn he saw a pair of familiar brown eyes looking at him.

Okay chapter six is done and the real story has began.

As for the manticore how did it get corrupted by the warp stone, and who was third party watching from the Shadows? I'll leave you guessing.

So see ya next time.