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Son of Hades (Percy Jackson) Chapter 289: Time Skip
🕑 Added 2025-06-10 13:59:25 +0000 UTC[Third Person's PoV]
6 months later…
Lucian stood within the vast training grounds nestled deep inside the Midnight Castle. Torches lining the walls flickered with blue flames, casting eerie shadows that danced across the floor. Opposite him stood Markus, clad in a sleeveless black shirt that clung to his form, revealing the light increase in his muscular build. His dark skin shimmered with sweat, and his jet-black wings were fully extended, the feathers twitching slightly with anticipation. His long, coiled dreadlocks were tied back into a neat bun, keeping them out of his intense, narrowed gaze.
Gripped tightly in his hands were twin crescent sickles, the curved blades glinting under the torchlight. He spun them slowly in tight circles, the motion precise and calculated. His eyes locked onto Lucian with focus, a mixture of determination and hesitation flickering beneath the surface.
Lucian, in contrast, looked almost casual. He wore a dark sleeveless sweater with the hood pulled over his head, casting part of his face in shadow. A long, dark staff was slung diagonally across his back, and his expression was equal parts amused and intrigued.
“Well?” Lucian asked, his tone playful as he reached up to rotate his staff with practiced ease. “Are you just going to stand there and admire me all day? I know I'm beautiful, but come on now~”
Markus didn’t rise to the bait. He narrowed his eyes further, spinning his sickles faster. Sparks erupted with each rotation as the twin blades scraped against one another, producing a high-pitched screech that echoed through the training ground. “I’m trying to find an opening…” he muttered, voice low and deliberate.
“Smart,” Lucian said, stepping slowly to the side, beginning to walk at an angle. “But don’t just look. Feel the rhythm of the fight.”
Markus mirrored his movement, walking in the opposite direction, the two of them beginning to circle each other like predators.
“Remember what I taught you,” Lucian warned, his voice suddenly losing its humor, gaining an edge.
“I know, I remember,” Markus replied with a nod. “If I can’t find an opening… then I make one. But you also taught me to never charge in recklessly. Plan ahead.”
Lucian gave a mock sniffle, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “They grow up so fast,” he said in a theatrical tone.
With a sudden beat of his wings, Markus surged forward. His sickles flared outward, slicing through the air. He slashed upward—but his attack was met instantly by Lucian’s staff. The clash rang out like thunder. Sparks burst into the air as the impact echoed, but before Markus could recover, Lucian’s foot drove into his torso with a sharp kick, sending him skidding backward across the stone floor.
“But not fast enough,” Lucian tutted, his voice lilting with that familiar mix of mockery and guidance. “Remember—any opening you see could be a trap. Bait.”
“I know!” Markus snapped, regaining his balance mid-slide by spreading his wings wide to slow his momentum. With a grunt, he flapped once and shot forward again, blades raised.
Lucian, without a hint of effort, blocked the strike again. Markus landed hard, and frustration bled into his attacks. His movements became more aggressive, less refined. He swung wildly, his sickles flashing in a flurry of chaotic strikes.
Lucian didn’t break a sweat. He weaved between the attacks like a dancer, the edge of his staff occasionally knocking aside a blade or redirecting the force harmlessly away.
With a sharp motion, Lucian smacked Markus’s wrist. The sickle clattered to the ground. Before Markus could react, Lucian struck his leg, making it buckle, then shoved the staff against his chest. Markus fell backward, landing unceremoniously on his rear.
Lucian walked calmly toward him, his staff resting on his shoulder. “What was your first mistake?” he asked, now circling Markus like a teacher inspecting a failing student.
Markus winced, rubbing his stinging wrist. “I dropped my weapon—”
Whack!
Lucian smacked the top of his head with the end of his staff.
“Wrong. Try again.”
Markus flinched and rubbed his skull, groaning. “I wasn’t watching your movement—”
Whack!
“Wrong again.”
“Ow! Seriously?”
“Your first mistake,” Lucian said with a scoff, “was letting me hit you.”
Markus blinked, incredulous. “What?! That’s not fair! That’s not something I could’ve avoided!”
Lucian gave him a look that could only be described as amused disdain. “But it is something you should avoid. Never let an opponent land a hit. What are you, dumb? You let me hit you. That’s already a loss. Now—your second mistake was dropping your weapon. Even if you can’t dodge the blow, hold onto your weapon. Even if your hands are cut off, they better still be holding your blades when they hit the ground.”
Markus grumbled under his breath as he picked himself up.
Lucian took a few steps back, resetting the space between them. “Now come on. Again.”
Markus clenched his jaw, flexed his wings, and retrieved his dropped sickles. He clashed the blades together with a metallic screech and dropped into a ready stance, eyes sharp and body tense.
Markus launched forward without hesitation, his wings snapping open and propelling him like a missile. His twin sickles blurred in the air, cutting twin arcs of silver as he aimed a feint toward Lucian’s head before snapping the real strike low toward his legs.
Lucian sidestepped with surgical precision, his staff whipping downward to intercept the incoming strike. Metal clashed against metal, the force causing a shockwave of sparks to scatter across the floor. Markus didn’t stop—he pivoted on his heel and brought both blades down in an X-formation, hoping to catch Lucian mid-dodge.
But Lucian spun low beneath the strike, his staff sweeping across the ground and nearly catching Markus’s ankle. Markus jumped back just in time, wings spreading to stabilize his balance. He beat them once, using the burst of wind to kick dust into Lucian’s face.
Lucian raised his forearm, shielding his eyes, but it bought Markus a brief moment. He shot forward again, blades flashing with renewed aggression. One sickle aimed high for the shoulder; the other curved in low for Lucian’s ribs.
Lucian ducked beneath the first and used the shaft of his staff to redirect the second, using Markus’s own momentum to send him stumbling a step forward. He twisted and brought the end of the staff toward Markus’s spine, but Markus rolled just in time, tucking his wings and tumbling into a crouch.
He sprang up, sickles arcing behind him, and slammed them together. The ringing metal echoed as he unleashed a flurry of strikes—high, low, diagonal, erratic but relentless. Lucian blocked each one with minimal effort, each strike countered with a fluid spin or deflection, his body moving like flowing water around the fury of blades.
Markus leapt upward, wings snapping open, and hovered for a second before dive-bombing Lucian. The twin blades screamed as they descended, but Lucian caught the shaft of both in the crook of his staff, twisted, and slammed Markus into the ground with a whip-like motion.
Markus grunted, the breath knocked from him, but he wasn’t done. He kicked upward, forcing Lucian to hop back, and with a spin, Markus regained his footing, eyes blazing with renewed determination.
They clashed again—Markus swinging wide, Lucian deflecting with one hand and jabbing with the other. Dust exploded from beneath their feet.
Lucian’s grin returned—sharp and electric.
He moved faster.
Markus barely had time to react as Lucian blurred forward, staff striking out in three quick jabs—wrist, knee, chest. Markus blocked the first two, but the third sent him skidding again. His foot caught a rock, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he twisted in midair and slashed one of his sickles at Lucian.
Lucian tilted his head—the sickle passed by, grazing his hood.
“Alright, let's call it a day…” Lucian said with a proud smile as he looked up at his hood.
“Why, let's continue, scared I'll actually scratch you this time?” Markus teased.
“Ha! Someone is getting cocky! Need I remind you you can barely hold your own against Nico?” Lucian laughed.
Markus sulked, “That brother of yours is a monster to begin with that doesn't count…”
“Heh, Nico is great isn't he… But no I'm not scared you'll scratch me, you still have a way to go before you could manage that, the reason we're stopping earlier is cause I gotta rest, tomorrow's valentines day after all” Lucian said proudly.
“Oh for christ sake I forgot about your little harem” Markus grumbled, “Fine… We'll cut it short”
Lucian chuckled, patting Markus’ shoulder and walking away.
Comments
Vrati
Agreed. And never drop a weapon shouldn’t be a strict rule. While generally you don’t want to lose your weapon, it can be discard in some circumstances like if it becomes a hindrance to your movement or that it got stuck. It is better to lose your weapon than to lose your hand or your life.
Ugly
I’d think letting his frustration get the better of him would be his biggest mistake
Toby
thanks for the chapter
