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Monster? No, I'm a Cultivator! (Percy Jackson): Chapter 42
🕑 Added 2025-07-16 22:19:53 +0000 UTCOcean Song frowned.
He was worried.
He was worried enough that he couldn’t even look heroic while he drank from his wine gourd.
He was sitting at a table with Lyra, the little girl completely oblivious to the Cyclops’s worries. She was much more interested in the large bowl of ice cream that she hadn’t even gotten halfway through yet.
Ocean Song tried not to show his concern on his face, lest he make the young girl get scared. So, he calmly just took another drink from his wine gourd.
Even as he glanced up at the very dark sky, he calmly just drank.
His impeccable instincts told him that if he tried to fly upwards, he would be getting more than a face full of lightning.
The dark clouds stretched far off onto the horizon.
Yet, contrary to the looming threat overhead, not a single crackle of thunder was heard, nor a single raindrop fell down.
Truthfully, it just made it all the more ominous.
His Divine Sense swept out going north, to see if there was a path around this…storm.
However, his Divine Sense locked onto something that also noticed him.
Several serpentine heads opened their eyes, as if watching him.
Ocean Song had killed a lot of monsters at this point. The vast majority of them had been nothing more than cannon fodder. Even the Minotaur, perhaps the most famous monster he’d killed thus far, wasn’t particularly…..strong.
However, from those many eyes that looked back at him, Ocean Song felt a tingle down his spine.
Strong.
Very strong.
He also felt the creeping sense of Death, as if it was waiting for him there.
Of course, what else would one expect from a monster that even gods fear? With poison so potent that even immortals would wish for death.
It didn’t move; it was lying down in some deserted area far north, its eyes only half opened as if watching and waiting for prey to make a move.
Ocean Song had a feeling that if he tried to go north, it would go after him.
He pulled his Divine Sense back, then looked south for a long way until he found something else that gave him a fright.
There was an obese woman sitting at a cafe with a dog at her side. As soon as Ocean Song’s Divine Sense swept over her, out of the corner of her eye, she looked back at him.
The Mother of Monsters barely spared him a glance; the Manticore masquerading as a dog only half opened its eyes, and seeing that its owner didn’t make a move, it went back to sleep.
However, once more, Ocean Song felt like she was just simply…waiting.
He pulled his Divine Sense back again.
Then, he shot it out west, towards the ocean.
It didn’t even make it to the water before he hastily pulled it back because there was something large and deadly sitting beneath the waves.
Normally, the ocean’s tides would be a welcomed and warm home for him. However, there was only the sense of impending death if he continued that way.
He then looked out east, and it was as if nothing was there, a clear and peaceful route ‘home.’
It only made Ocean Song frown deeper, taking another drink from his gourd.
Ocean Song was many things, but he wasn’t stupid…most of the time. He knew a trap when he saw one, and he knew that he had been caged in.
He didn’t know how it happened, only that the proverbial walls fell down all at once and he didn’t have time to react.
Something or someone was guiding him to make a very specific move.
And it all compounded in the fact that none of his attempts to contact Hecate or other gods had worked.
And he realized that he couldn’t contact his fellow Sect members. Not because something was cutting off communication there too, but because he realized none of them had phones!
Truly, it was an oversight on his part.
He would have to set up a Sect Phone Plan when he got back.
The last nail in the proverbial coffin was the fact that any illusions he tried to weave through use of the Mists were…dispersed. Anything beyond hiding his own inhuman nature, it was like they wouldn’t take effect in the world.
It was unsettling, to say the least. He simply couldn’t do whatever he wanted now and forgo any mundane consequences.
Ocean Song gave himself a few light slaps on the cheeks for encouragement and reinvigoration. If the path ahead was filled with fire and ice, then so be it.
It was foolish to walk into a known danger, but if he was forced onto a dangerous road, then his sword would clear the way.
His main priority right now was to get Lyra to safety.
“Mr. Ocean, I’m all done.” Lyra set her spoon to the side.
Ocean Song just smiled. “Are you sure? Do you want something else?”
“I think my tummy is going to explode if I eat any more.” She laughed sincerely before looking up. “Is it going to rain, Mr. Ocean?”
Ocean Song took a glance upwards as well, at the foreboding dark clouds blanketing the sky. “I sure hope it doesn’t.” He said, standing up. “Are you ready to go?” He held out his hand.
The young girl hopped off her seat, picking up her colorful and sticker-covered backpack. It held all her things inside; suffice to say, it was larger on the inside than should be logically possible. One of the few direct gifts that her mother had snuck her way, technically breaking a few rules.
She nodded happily, taking his hand as they began to walk down the street.
They weren’t far away from where they needed to go. There was a bus station that made cross-country trips. Plenty of buses that went from California to the East Coast and back every day.
Despite never having been to a train station in this life, Ocean Song wasn’t flustered. He had plenty of experience to fall back on from his time before.
Though he didn’t particularly like the idea of traveling by bus, he couldn’t very well walk the entire way with a young lady at his side. She most likely wouldn’t make it a few miles, and it would just be ridiculous for Ocean Song to push her to do something like that.
However, once inside, there was a monitor overhead that showed bus routes and buses that were sold out.
He frowned again because it was just too obviously far this time.
The only bus available until the next morning was a bus that ran right back to New York.
Of course, Ocean Song wasn’t oblivious to other options. Go rent a car, pay a driver, or even steal a car and drive away. However, he had an inkling that it didn’t matter what method of transportation he took; he would be forced along this predetermined route.
He felt like a rat trapped in a maze with someone overhead ready to nudge him—forcibly if needed—onto the correct path if he tried to stray.
Ocean Song put his gourd up to his lips again, staring at the monitor before walking towards one of the automatic kiosks that accepted money.
He printed out two tickets for him and Lyra, the younger girl still having no idea about his turbulent thoughts.
And Ocean Song had no time to dwell on it either because the bus was departing within minutes.
If he were alone, he may have done his best to flip the board. Like cutting in half the bus that they were walking to.
Though, to be honest, if Ocean Song were alone, he would have already flown at one of the monsters keeping their distance.
His Dao Heart wasn’t so fragile that he would be scared of losing against such impressive foes. But his Dao Heart wouldn’t allow him to be scared of fighting.
However, there was a difference between running away in fear and running away because you fear for someone else.
Just as they were walking to the bus, Lyra squeezed his hand, pointing up. “Look, that birdie has tickets in its mouth.” She giggled.
Ocean Song followed her gaze towards another bus; a raven was sitting on the back edge, with two tickets in its mouth.
It dropped them, letting out a caw, and then flying away.
Ocean Song watched it fly away for a moment, his lips curling up as he walked over and picked up the tickets. They were for the bus that the raven had stood on. Ocean Song read the tickets, and they were also for New York, but they were taking a completely different route.
“Let’s go, Lyra.” Ocean Song smiled, leading her to the new bus.
@***@
Elsewhere, high above the mundane world, the Fates looked down upon the threads.
It was rare for them to take such overt actions. But dire times called for dire actions, as it were.
If they couldn’t cut a thread, then they could isolate its effect on other important threads, lead it somewhere else, or even try to have its owner killed through other means, thereby solving the problem entirely.
Everything was meticulously planned.
From the budding romance they witnessed between the goddess and monster to the child of the goddess needing ‘rescue.’
Every action, every movement across the mortal continent, they watched carefully and maneuvered their pieces into place. They had dozens of different contingencies ready for whatever actions he took.
If he wanted to run headfirst into the Hydra or the Mother of Monsters, so be it. It would save them a lot of trouble.
But there were also…certain rules that had to be acknowledged even for the Fates.
The three old women scowled together.
Things could be moved into place ahead of time; they could set up all the chess pieces they needed. However, once the ‘game’ began, they couldn’t interfere any longer; they had already made all the moves they were ‘allowed.’ They couldn’t add any more Dominos after they started falling over.
“Who!?” One of the three old women shouted.
“It was him!” Another added
“You bastard, you broke the rules!” The third shouted, her voice reverberating with the other two.
A chuckle permeated the world around them, a mocking laugh from an old man. Their eyes tore through the void and swept across the world, landing on the old man in question.
Over in Los Angeles, not far away from a certain bus station, an old man was sitting at a bench, tossing out birdseed to a bunch of pigeons.
No one walking by noticed the two ravens that landed on either of his shoulders.
He had a rather conspicuous eye patch over one of his eyes.
“This is an explicit violation of the rules!” Clotho pointed at him.
“You overstep, Asgardian!”
“We demand punishment!”
The other two spoke just as quickly.
The one-eyed old man barely looked up, just smiled lightly. “I’m just repaying a small debt I incurred; it’s completely within the rules. Are you telling me that I’m not allowed to buy a young man some bus tickets to pay him back for helping this old man’s niece?”
“Nonsense, you know exactly what you did! You altered the Fate we created!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have set up such flimsy fates, hmm?” He shot back. “It’s terribly crass to have to scheme so overtly, don’t you think? I’m just offended by looking at it.”
The Three Sisters scowled deeper, their anger nearly boiling over.
“Do you think this will change anything?” Antropos asked him with anger in her voice. “Either way, death will await him, and the threads will return to normal in time.”
“Who knows?” The man admitted. “But at the very least, I don’t like such pathetic scripts. Don’t you think it’s more exciting when you let someone else write some lines into it?” He smiled.
The three sisters scoffed indignantly and turned their gaze away, not bothering with him anymore. They knew that arguing was pointless, and fighting was completely off the table.
Even at their most arrogant, they didn’t want to fight Odin. There was no victory to be had if they engaged that god in battle. The most frightening thing about him wasn’t his strength; it was that even if they won, he would make sure they lost.
“I never did like those old crones.” A new voice spoke next to Odin.
Another man, well dressed but nothing ostentatious. He was clean and well kept without very many defining features other than his deep green eyes.
Odin grunted.
“All that power, and they use it for what? Exhaust themselves by meticulously plotting the course of so many unimportant fates just so their little story plays out exactly how they want.” He continued. “Bah. I’m already at my wits end planning one single Ragnarok; I couldn’t imagine doing it for all of eternity.”
“Loki.” Odin named the person who had joined him. “How are you?”
“Oh, you know, suffering excruciating pain, wishing for death, blah blah.” He waved his hand flippantly. “So, that Cyclops is one of your new pieces? I admit, it took me by surprise. He’s certainly an odd one.”
“Odd is good.” Odin replied curtly.
“There’s nothing wrong with Odd.” Loki said politely. “Merely an observation. I wouldn’t want to insult someone who did my daughter such a favor out of merely goodwill.” He smiled warmly despite the tension between the two of them.
“He ruined some of your plans.” Odin pointed out.
“That he did. It happens; I can’t have everything go my way. My current punishment is proof of that.”
There was a beat of silence between the two as they just casually looked at the birds eating the seed on the ground.
Loki reached over, and Odin tilted the bag of seed for him to get a handful and toss it out.
“It’s insulting.” Loki spoke up again. “I’m offended by association. All it took to get them that angry was one outside factor meddling. If I couldn’t account for a few outside factors poking around in my plots, I would have hung up my cape years ago.”
Odin nodded. “You were set back by a bit now, though. Hel being outside of her realm and no longer obsessing over Baldr is rather annoying, isn’t it?”
“Certainly.” Loki let out a sigh. “But it is what it is. What should happen will happen eventually. There’s no use crying over spilled milk. On the bright side, my daughter is enjoying herself, and she has a chance to find someone who appreciates her. As a father, how could I not be happy about that?”
“What should happen will happen.” Odin repeated. “I don’t like those words.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” Loki didn’t argue. “You think you’re right, and I think I’m right; that’s how it’s always been. Our fight has never been about proving who was wrong; it was always about who was more right.”
Loki stood up, straightening his clothes. “Well, I suppose I’ll get back to my punishment. I’m sure that egregiously large serpent is missing me and has some particularly nasty venom to drip onto me all ready. I’ll keep an eye on that odd Cyclops; he seems rather interesting.”
He disappeared with a hazy flash, leaving Odin all alone.
Though, the old one-eyed god just grinned as he continued to watch the show.
@***@
A/N
PJO, funnily enough, has the Xianxia trope of the ‘high-level cultivators’ playing chess with everyone in the world. If the Fates couldn’t cut his Thread, then they could put all the pieces into place to force him in the direction they wanted. Either away from their ‘plot’ or to certain death. Odin, though, took exception to that and just ever so slightly pushed that intended course off a bit. Essentially, the Fates are doing their best to make sure the canon train sticks to the rails for the ‘proper story’ and since Ocean Song is causing problems, they’re trying to push him out of the way or off the tracks completely.
Comments
TOS SOT
Great Chapter! Hm and tbh I find it wholesome with Mel. And well xD I think Fate will get to know they are signing thier own Fate with thier Meddling in it and especially with so many people. They might be Fateweabers but they are not Fate or such. For Fate is a force of nature, a constant that always will exist. And the more u meddle with it the bigger the Backlash in the end will come to the Meddlers.
Nazarickk
Thanks for the chapter
