"Faster!"
Luke's voice snapped through the arena like a whip.
I flicked my wrist, grunting as Luke's sword deflected mine with an almost lazy motion. He sidestepped, fluid and precise, before smashing his fist into my ribcage. The impact was brutal. Dark spots danced across my vision, and I stumbled back, gasping for air.
"Again."
The command came sharp and uncompromising.
TWANG!
Our blades clanged together, the metallic ring vibrating up my arm.
Luke deflected my slash with ease, his movements sharper, faster, like he wasn't even breaking a sweat. He followed up with a swift kick to my calf, and my leg buckled. I hit the dirt hard, tasting copper in my mouth.
"You're losing speed, Percy," Luke said, his voice tinged with frustration as he batted away another half-hearted attempt to strike him. I jabbed, and he spun around the jab, raising his arms in exasperation. "Head in the game!"
"Dude, I'm tired," I panted, stumbling and leaning on my sword like it was a crutch. My chest burned with exertion, and my muscles screamed in protest. Every part of me begged for a break, maybe some water—or better yet, a Gatorade.
Luke's expression darkened. The jagged scar running down his face seemed more pronounced in the harsh sunlight, like a lightning bolt carved into his skin. He stared at me for a long moment before speaking, his tone colder now. "You think the shit out there is going
to care if you're tired or not? You think it'll wonder why your slashes are getting slower? No! It's going to take moments like this and beat the fuck out of you for having them. You can't show weakness out there. Ever. If we were fighting for real, I could've slit your throat."
"I mean...I get what you're saying," I admitted reluctantly, trying to catch my breath. I raised Riptide again, ignoring the burning pain that shot through my shoulders, and the stinging feeling permeating my fingers. "But I highly doubt a hellhound is going to be a master swordsman."
Luke froze for a moment, then ran a hand through his sweatdrenched hair, smacking his forehead like I'd said the dumbest thing imaginable. A low chuckle floated out of his mouth, and he twisted
his sword, spinning the tip in the dirt. "That's what you think I'm training you for?"
"Well, yeah..." I trailed off, confused. Wasn't that obvious?
"Maybe I gave you too much credit," Luke muttered, more to himself than to me. He sighed heavily, "You're too caught up in the idea of slashing and hacking at every monster that shows its teeth. Think bigger, Percy. Why do they keep coming to kill us?"
I frowned, trying to figure out if this was a trick question. "Because they want to kill us?"
"Funny," Luke said, though his tone was anything but amused. He moved faster than I could react, smacking the flat of his blade against my stomach. The dull, heavy thud knocked the wind out of
me, and I doubled over, gasping as I collapsed to my knees. Riptide clattered on the ground.
All I wanted was a second to recover, but Luke kept talking, his voice cutting through the pounding in my ears. "Sure, it's in a monster's nature to fight—they can't help it any more than a demigod can help being dragged into battle. But that's the thing: we're all just doing what we're told, aren't we? They fight because they don't know any better; we fight because the gods point us at them. The real question is, who's really at fault? The beasts, for following their instincts, or the ones who let this vicious cycle go on without lifting a finger ?"
"I feel like you're at fault for the bruise on my stomach," I wheezed, clutching my ribs. It felt like I'd just been reamed by a truck!
Luke ignored me, pacing a few steps away as he slid his sword into its sheath with a quiet ring. He stared into the distance, his gaze intense and unyielding. "The gods watch from a distance while we
break our backs, facing wave after wave of monsters, never really sharing the bigger picture. Maybe they figure if we're fighting, we won't stop to question why."
I struggled to my feet, still clutching my ribs. "What's your deal?"
He hesitated for a moment, his expression softening—just slightly.
Then he let out a low breath, "What I'm saying, Percy, is that you're
going to learn a lot of things out there. Things that will make you question everything you think you know about this world. About the gods. About yourself."
I frowned, feeling an uncomfortable knot form in my stomach as I picked up Riptide. "And what exactly am I supposed to do with that?"
"That's up to you," Luke said, his tone unreadable. He sucked in a breath. "But you're not ready yet. Not even close."
A sharp silence fell between us, broken only by the distant clash of swords from other campers training nearby. Luke stepped closer, his voice dropping into something more personal, almost conspiratorial.
"You need to stop thinking about monsters like they're the biggest threat you'll face. They're just pawns. Just like us. The real threats? They're the ones moving the pieces."
I stared at him, trying to piece together what he was saying. "You mean the Titans?"
"Sure," Luke said, but there was something in his tone that suggested it wasn't that simple. "The Titans, the gods, whatever label you want to give them. What you need to understand is that our paths don't end here, Percy. This camp, this training—it's just the beginning. You're heading out there, and at some point, we'll cross paths again. When that happens, I'll show you how deep this really goes."
"That sounds ominous," I muttered, trying to mask my unease with sarcasm.
Luke's lips quirked into a faint smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He carved a smiley face into the dirt of the training ground with his shoe.
"It should. I'll see you back here tomorrow morning, and you better be moving faster than you were today."
He turned, walking away with the same fluid grace he always had, leaving me standing there in the middle of the arena, bruised, exhausted, and confused as hell.
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Here's more Luke Castellan for you all, it is always a pleasure to write him. We really have Uncle Rick to thank for giving us such a great character to play with. Also, don't forget—more power stones for me, more chapters for you. My goal is 300 power stones = bonus chapter. If you'd like to support me further, you can find me on Patreon: patreon.com/Aurelius DBlack (just erase the space before "D"). And of course, leaving a comment or review helps a lot too.