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Athos Apsifoun : The Son Of Herakles

Athos, a broken man, who regularly drinks himself to sleep, finds himself in the world of Percy Jackson as the son of Herakles. Filled with great ambition and new purpose, he seeks the greatest gift of all, Godhood. . . . . . . . . I do not own the cover. The artist can contact me if they want me to take it down. *** Support me on P@treon if you like the story, or are just feeling exceedingly generous. I won't be holding chapters hostage because that's a mean thing to do. The P@treon is just there if you wish to support me because you enjoy my work. You are in no way obligated to provide me with anything. patreon.com/Marine0IQ *** Will be posted on RR ( Royal Road ) too. WARNING: NO HAREM

Marine0IQ · Derivados de obras
Sin suficientes valoraciones
92 Chs

CRY

The closer the silhouette drew, the more that dreadful aura pressed down on him.

*BOOM*

*BOOM*

*BOOM*

It took heavy steps in the air, shattering the earth below as though touching the ground would besmirch its dignity and the dust clouds rolled off the beings body as though afraid of sullying it - revealing a man whose appearance could only be described with terms such as 'Impeccable' and 'Flawless'. If he cared to lower himself to the ground, he would tower over even Herakles who stood at an impressive two metres.

His bronzed skin gleamed as though it was forged metal and his silky black hair disappeared into an equally black cape whose tips emitted trails of black mist. His deep, dark-blue eyes which were akin to two abysses along with his chiselled face gave him a near-perfect look while his muscular chest and sculpted body were covered by tight-fitting armour that would make any veteran of the battlefield palpitate with fear and awe.

His pitch-black breastplate rose and fell as though it were a second skin and the gauntlets that enveloped his forearms and palms ended in retractable draconic claws that seemed to only exist to rip and tear. A spiked belt covered his waist and his black cape billowed out even in the absence of wind, further enunciating his fearsome appearance.

The vines binding Herakles loosened and he didn't let the opportunity go to waste. He burst out of the ground, burying his uninjured arm so deep into Dionysus' potbelly that it seemed to touch his spine. With a sonic boom, the Wine God blasted backwards, spilling his drink and smashing through boulders and trees alike, disappearing deep into the island.

"ATHOS!', Herakles cried out and turned toward the floating man behind him. His hands were trembling in wonder and awe. Had his son really stopped an Olympian in his tracks?!

Athos on the other hand wasn't feeling all too good. The mighty aura that enveloped the area disappeared in an instant and his body dangerously wobbled.

"Ugh!"

His face paled and his feet slammed onto the ground, forming cracks. Using his Draconic aura, even for a few moments, was incredibly draining but it made sense. How could an ability that could freeze an Olympian and cut off access to Divinity possibly be so easy to use?

"Can you stand?", Herakles rushed forward and grabbed his shoulders which were now equal to his.

"Yeah...just need a few moments", he grunted, stretching his new, larger muscles, making his bones pop. It was quite hard to reel in his new strength that seemed to be practically endless and it made him have an all-new appreciation for his father, who didn't seem to be destroying the ground with every step he took. With a few deep breaths, he stood back up, his back ramrod straight - standing up to his full 6'8 height.

"You've...grown", Herakles muttered before taking a step back and wincing, grabbing his broken arm. In his elation induced by his son's survival, he'd forgotten that he had an injury that was deep enough to see bone which had only gotten worse with all the struggling he had done.

If it were any other god that had tried to use their bodies as a medium for that much divinity, rather than suffering a deep injury they'd probably have to go about without a body for a few decades.

Athos grit his teeth seeing his father in pain. Rage bubbled up in him and he looked around him. What was once a beautiful, tropical paradise was now something out of an apocalypse movie. One-half of the island was shattered beyond repair - the sea claiming most of it, leaving miniature ones in its place. The other half was littered with broken and smashed trees while the others drooped sadly.

"Dionysus did this?", Athos said through clenched teeth feeling slightly incredulous. Sure, Dionysus was powerful in his own right, but his might paled in front of his other peers. He was a demigod before ascending too and if he was the one who wrought such destruction on the island and had reduced his father to this state, then the mountain he'd have to scale to slay Zeus was much, much taller than he'd previously expected.

"Huh? That drunken fart? Never. It was Apollo. He was the first to arrive after sensing the ritual", Herakles sighed while his fur cloak transfigured into a sling.

"Apollo!", Athos' eyebrows shot up. "Really? You defeated a Major God!? Dad, how are you alive right now?!"

"Is that how you are supposed to be talking to your father?", Herakles grumbled.

"Huh? Is there a specific way you'd like me to?"

"Yes, it's with something younglings like you greatly lack"

"Younglings? Dad, have you been reading dictionaries in your spare time?"

Herakles sighed in exasperation before looking up at Athos as though finally getting a good look at him. His eyes flickered with what looked like melancholy before he got a hold of himself and broke into a smile.

"I'm glad you're okay, son", he said with difficulty as though expressing such emotion was utterly foreign to him.

Athos merely grinned back and enveloped Herakles in a bear hug, making sure to avoid the arm in the sling, "I'm glad you're okay too, Dad. Thanks for protecting me for so long."

He truly felt endless gratitude towards his father. He never had one in his past life and had never experienced how it was to have someone he could always rely on no matter what. His father had sacrificed so much to satisfy his lust for power and he really didn't know how to repay him.

He tightened his hug and his eyes filled with resolve. He swore to himself that he'd do whatever it took to drag the Queen of the Gods down from her throne to his father's feet, be it cutting down Olympus itself. She had drenched his father's fist with the blood of his own family but Athos on the other hand would cover his fist with the blood of hers.

"I...It's nothing", Herakles muttered, awkwardly patting Athos' back.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes once again but instead of wiping them away, he let them fall. Perhaps it was okay to cry - to let go of his worries and hug it out, but it seemed that a certain drunk God had other plans. At that moment, while the father-son duo were having a moment, it was rudely interrupted.

'Yo...YOU!....Ack...How?!", Dionysus spluttered, stumbling out from the broken trees, clutching his stomach. His hair was covered in twigs and his beard with dirt, completely unlike what one would think a God would look like.

Athos sighed and released his dad before turning around and glaring at the Wine God who involuntarily took a step back. Dionysus' watery, electric-blue eyes immediately shifted from scared to enraged as though angered at the fact that he'd been intimidated at all.

"DIE!", he announced and flicked his finger toward Athos.

Perhaps he wished to turn Athos into a cockroach or a dolphin or a monkey or just straight-up kill him but it didn't matter. Instead of Athos switching species, Dionysus' head snapped back as if he slammed into some imaginary wall. He stumbled back in shock before regaining his balance and looking at Athos in fear.

"Who...no...What are you?!", Dionysus blubbered, holding onto a tree for support as though still physically reeling from Herakles' blow.

Athos showed no response to the baffled God. As much as he wanted to respond with something incredibly cheesy as 'Your Death', he himself didn't truly understand what he was as the title 'Khaos-kin' gave rise to as many questions as it answered. He previously didn't fully understand the advantages it gave him and was probably oblivious to much of its perks even now, but after partially ascending he found it much easier to evaluate his strength and abilities as though he had been gifted a perfect understanding of his body.

Merely combining the physically most powerful Titan's Heart and the physically most powerful God's Ichor would've probably given him Divine strength of unfathomable proportions, but adding Ladon's Blood was the icing on the cake, boosting it even further. Moreover, he was pretty sure he'd gone through much more than just a physical modification. When he was floating in Oblivion and losing his mind, he could've sworn a flash of blue light had brought him closer to Khaos, strengthening his taint to the primordial nothingness.

That was not all, he even had access to multiple abilities such as the Draconic aura, the one he'd used on Dionysus, Khaos Sight, one that he hadn't got the chance to use yet and limited Aerokinesis, one he'd probably inherited from his Grandfather. But if he had to point out what would be most useful, it would be the second one he'd inherited from Zeus.

A helmet extended out from the back of his neck and covered his face, the two glowing blue slits representing his eyes exuding an indifference that only served to morph Dionysus' fear into anger once more.

The Wine God glowered at him before stamping his feet in anger.

*BOOM*

Gigantic grape veins burst out from the broken ground, further breaking it, swaying like tentacles of some Lovecraftian monster. It didn't stop with one or two, no - hundreds of them broke out of the earth's crust as though it had trapped them for centuries. They seemed to hold enough strength to topple buildings with a touch and were long enough to wrap around one.

With another finger flick, they morphed together, forming one giant humanoid being that stood an impressive fifty feet and possessed fists large enough to cover Camp Half-Blood's mess hall. The vines forming its head parted, revealing a giant maw.

"GHHHHRROOOAGHHHHHH!!!!", It boomed, its voice loud enough to clear all debris in a fifty-metre radius.

Athos merely chuckled at the display, his voice sounding deeper than it already was with his helmet on. He extended his arms and with a satisfying clink, extended his claws that seemed to scream for blood.

It was about time.

***

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