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Monster? No, I'm a Cultivator! (Percy Jackson): Chapter 45
🕑 Added 2025-08-07 09:24:55 +0000 UTCOdin laid back in his chair, watching the TV as he does often. Through the eyes of his trusty ravens, he could see everything he needed to.
“Father, I’ve done as you asked.” Thor walked into the room and sounded a mite tired. “I must say, that Greek Hydra was no easy opponent! However, it decided to run away mid-fight. My poor bottom is still hurting from where it managed to get some of its poison on my skin.” He scratched his head.
“Thank you, son.” Odin grunted in response.
“It was no trouble, Father! Though, I still do not know why you had me go fight that Greek monster. However, it was thrilling all the same! A creature that could even make a god fear its poison—truly it was exhilarating!”
Odin hummed. “Just a small game I’m playing against a few old bats.”
He didn’t want that Hydra around; it was an eyesore for what he was planning.
Thor looked around, and his eyes fell on the TV. “Oh, is it our Cyclops friend?” He perked up. “What manner of creature is that?”
He was, of course, referring to the half-scorpion man that also appeared.
“Aqrabuamelu. From the old Sumerian lot that aren’t around anymore.” Odin replied. “It was birthed by their Primordial Goddess in antiquity. Long before you were born.”
“Ah, I seem to recall you mentioning them in the past.” Thor nodded. “Monsters do fade much slower than gods do when their faith collapses.”
Faith was a very illusive term even for gods. What was Faith? What constituted it? The most direct answer would be someone who believes wholeheartedly, but if that were the case, then how would many of the old gods today still persist? How many people genuinely still worship the Greek or Norse gods and revere them as deities they ‘know exist’ compared to Christianity or any of the other modern religions?
The answer is more of a vague notion of acknowledgement. Odin, Thor, and Loki are household names in a significant portion of the world. By extension, the idea of the Norse cosmology is still present across the globe even if many don’t worship it like in the past.
Who, in these modern times, even remembers the name of more than one or two deities from Ancient Mesopotamia among the common folk?
“Did you send me out to help our Cyclops friend, Father?” Thor asked, sitting down next to Odin.
Odin gave a slow nod, leaning back. “Those three crones wanted to get rid of him.”
“How despicable!” Thor looked aghast. “I never did like the way they meddle so much. Why could they not be like our Norns, who simply watch the strings of fate as observers?”
“Who knows? Maybe in time, even our Norns will get bored and want to stick their hands into the great tapestry and become part of the grand game.” Odin gave a cryptic reply.
Odin looked up towards the ceiling, but he was more so looking somewhere else. “Some should learn a lesson or two from their cousins and keep their hands out of other people’s cookie jars.”
Though he spoke, Thor didn’t hear the words; they instead reverberated through the realms.
Thor was many things, but subtle was not one of them; Odin’s little trick just then went completely unnoticed by him.
The Fates immediately turned their attention to him, furious, but they dared not speak a word.
They didn’t speak because they had been shamed to a greater extent than they had ever experienced before.
Antropos, the one responsible for cutting the strings—the very fates of others—was currently nursing her hand.
Golden blood dripped onto the ground, and a cut could be seen across her skin, her scissors having fallen to the ground.
Odin snorted and turned away.
He never considered them ‘opponents.’ Despite them being powerful enough that it made him wary, they fell short when it came to ‘scheming.’
When you could easily control the fates of everyone with ease, when would you ever have to learn how to plan or strategize?
He shook his head finally, ignoring them completely, giving some last parting words. “Giving false hope, lying to that poor creature to use as a disposable pawn—how…crude.”
In the east, they called it Karma.
For Odin and most gods in these parts, they called it causality.
The concept was something that no gods could escape. It was intertwined with their very beings due to being gods and connected with the world.
As the mortals say, all actions have consequences.
What many gods don’t know, or don’t care to understand, is that something even as simple as lying carries with it a casualty that can land on their heads at the worst time.
It’s why Odin rarely, if ever, lied like this. That isn’t to say he’s never lied before; he’s a ruthless god, and he’s done many a thing that would make most people side-eye him.
Perhaps, it was Loki’s presence that caused him to subtly change over the years. He would freely admit that he was a bit more like Zeus than many realize, but his mind became sharper when he had to battle wits with someone like Loki.
To lie to that older monster creature, to give it false hope of a ‘place’ within their cosmological umbrella—that was crude, not just in execution but in divine providence.
A big lie like that, if the creature succeeded as planned, would have…consequences when it falls through.
There was a reason that the Greek Gods had so many…issues, comparative to even the Norse.
Off the top of his head, Odin could only pick out a handful of gods from the Greeks that observed causality properly like he did. Out of the actual Olympians, that number dwindled even more.
He would at least acknowledge their Goddess of Wisdom for understanding these concepts and acknowledging them.
Odin wasn’t even sure Zeus knew, or if he did, he simply didn’t care.
Unfortunately, such ‘consequences’ don’t always land on the gods themselves directly. For many Greeks who simply didn’t care much beyond their own well-being and desires, if their children or associates caught strays, it was just an unfortunate conclusion.
Such deep and interwoven cosmic concepts made it hard to link them, to follow the trails, and to be able to pin one consequence to one action. But Odin was pretty sure that the reason the Greek demigods even have so much trouble with monsters in the first place is because their gods have just run rampant for too long and simply accumulated that cosmic debt.
“I have a question, Father: why is that monster this far west? Shouldn’t it be clinging to the last vestiges of its homeland to prolong its existence? It may very well fade if it doesn’t return home in the next few days.” Thor spoke up.
“A lie mistaken for a promise.” Odin grunted. “It thought it was achieving a new home for itself, but it simply ended up being cast aside as a disposable pawn.”
Odin wasn’t beyond sympathy; it just usually took a back burner when it came to his priorities.
He did sympathize, knowing that this monster was promised entry into the Greek Mythos—a chance at survival for it and its kin—only for it to be all a fabrication. Maybe it even knew that it was a lie from the start, but it still wanted to hope.
Such is the existence of one nearly forgotten by the world.
Some day too, Odin recognized, that could be him.
“...Father, should I go help?” Thor asked, staring at the screen.
He came in at the end, not seeing the good parts. But that was fine; Odin recorded everything. He wouldn’t mind watching it again with his son.
But now, the Aqrabuamelu stood over the Cyclops, who had collapsed from doing something he quite frankly shouldn’t have been able to do.
But then again, those strange and rare beings who could defy fate, they often did things beyond common sense.
It was beaten and nearly broken, with not much life left inside of it, in all honesty. Odin agreed with his son’s words; it would probably fade for good if it didn’t return to its home quickly.
“No need.” Odin told Thor. “The heart of a warrior is a strange and oddly beautiful thing.”
The Scorpion Man, despite most likely still believing that his chance at survival was in front of him, with a swing of its sword, could earn a continued existence. Ocean Song was passed out, completely unguarded.
Yet, he didn’t swing; he didn’t harm him at all.
Carefully, the Aqrabuamelu lifted Ocean Song up over his shoulder and did his best to shuffle towards the bus that was driving away in the distance.
There are some things that can even move a ruthless god like Odin.
A Raven followed after the Aqrabuamelu.
@***@
Ocean Song shot up from his prone position.
He looked around, anxious, ready to continue a fight that seemingly had already passed.
He unconsciously reached for his sword, and he found it at his side, grabbing it protectively.
But once he came to his senses, he realized where he was, and confusion washed over him. For he was not lying face first in the desert; rather, he was now back on top of the bus.
Rather quickly, he leaned down over the edge and saw Lyra still in her seat, looking rather happy, if tired.
She noticed Ocean Song poking his head down and smiled brightly, waving at him, completely unaware of what had transpired earlier.
Ocean Song, despite the pain in his body, smiled and waved back before sitting back up on top of the bus.
He let out a sigh, looking up at the still dark sky.
“The path to the Dao is long. May we meet again, friend.” He raised his sword up in proper acknowledgement of the warrior he had fought.
Knowing that he was safe, that Lyra was safe, and that everything seemed to calm down, he took a cross-legged position to inspect himself properly.
He circulated his Cultivation Base to assess the damage.
He was a bit weak at the moment, he noted. Opening his third eye to boost his physical abilities, it certainly was draining even to him, who had become Nascent Soul. Though, that is to say, his Physical Body gets stronger along with his Cultivation Base, so it would never fall behind.
He tried to remember the feeling of that last slash of his, but it was fleeting and ethereal. He felt like he touched on something too early for him and overexerted himself…again.
This time though, it was more unintentional.
But what kind of Cultivator would he be if he didn’t repeat the same mistakes several times?
And things weren’t all bad; there were even gains!
Ocean Song smiled lightly as he noted his Cultivation Base had broken through.
He had reached the middle stages of the Nascent Soul Realm.
How did that happen? Well, he wasn’t quite sure yet.
Truthfully, he hadn’t even thought fully about the next steps in the Nascent Soul Realm. He had been consumed by other thoughts that had taken his attention. Building his sect had been a nearly full-time engagement for him.
That’s not to say he was neglecting his Cultivation, but it was proper to let a person rest and digest their new profound realm when breaking through.
It hadn’t even been that long since he broke through to the Nascent Soul Realm.
He was trying to think back to how it happened, as it was so natural and in the middle of the fight.
He thought of his opponent—the Aqrabuamelu—and what had caused it. Was it simply a matter of fighting a life-or-death battle that pushed him that far? He wasn’t quite sure that was the case. He could guess that it certainly helped; the ancient and sacred texts he had read in the past often mentioned acquiring real battle experience as being important.
Perhaps he should find a sealed realm somewhere to delve into to search for treasures that only opens once every ten thousand years that just so happens to be opening when he’s nearby?
Or maybe he should find an auction that only takes place every century that just so happens to be taking place again as he’s nearby. Which will inevitably lead to him acquiring a treasure that causes jealousy from others and makes them attack him.
It was unfortunate that he no longer had the sacred texts to research from in this life.
But he was getting distracted.
He focused back on his Cultivation Base, particularly his Nascent Soul.
A Nascent Soul was exactly that, the Nascent Immortal Soul that a Cultivator nurtures to Immortality.
It had grown quite a bit since his first breakthrough into the realm initially.
But he wasn’t sure what caused it to grow to such an extent.
He kept replaying the scenes in his head from the fight, how he felt, his emotions, his exertions, his power, and any hint at all.
It took him awhile, but he finally seemed to reach enlightenment.
He stopped meditating and opened his eyes, leaning back, catching himself with his hands before he fell backwards and relaxed.
He let out another long breath.
It seemed obvious in hindsight.
What is a soul? It’s a record of our experiences, of our lives.
A Nascent Soul needs to [live] to grow. It needs to experience [life].
The Seven Emotions were pivotal to the growth of his Nascent Soul.
Just as he understood that, a strange, almost foreign thought entered his mind and burrowed deep into his heart.
It was enough that he took his gourd and drank a large mouthful several times in a row.
“Why did my mother abandon me?” He said softly to no one in particular.
He didn’t know why he suddenly had that thought, or why it took precedence, but it refused to leave his heart, and he had a newfound understanding that if this wasn’t settled, he wouldn’t be able to break through to the next realm.
He slapped his storage pouch and took out a fresh set of robes and changed into them before cleaning up his appearance.
As a proper Cultivator, it’s important to look immaculate. Of course, there was the exception of being disheveled and having clothes torn from a fight, which had its own charm. But after it’s over, cleaning up is a necessity to retain the elegance of a Cultivator.
Though, his spirits weren’t lifted much.
He took another drink from his gourd and settled on a plan for the future.
After he was done with this little adventure, he was going to have to go find his father and ask him about his mother.
@***@
A/N
The chapter is a bit later than intended, but I had a flare-up today, and I was having trouble sitting down properly.
Comments
Kz3838
Thank you for the great chapter, sorry to hear about your flare-up I hope you feel better soon. Stay safe out there and keep up the good work!
The_Slave_Knight
I love that despite how foolish and mostly clueless Ocean Song may be, he has an iron cald Power System for himself, one that's thourough enough that he can judge others with it. Does it make sense to anyone other than himself? Not really, but that doesn't matter!
