The Price of Hybris

Chapter 20: The Price of Hybris

I am free. My mantra managed to keep me going as I spurned my horse forward, and attacked what was likely one of the Big Nopes existent in the Greek World.

The Price of Hybris

I threw the two jars of greek fire by the useful rope tied around their necks, just as Mera's hindquarters pushed hard against the cement and for an instant, I felt like I was flying. My legs clamped hard against the flanks of my horse, both to be ready to guide her with the pressure of my knees, and in order to not be unsaddled during the imminent impact. Tensing my core muscles I lunged with my still unnamed naginata, the celestial bronze part of the blade gleaming eagerly as it neared the objective.

My horse weighted around 800 kilograms, for she was all-powerful muscles and sturdy bones, ready to trample any army, I weighted around 80 kilograms, and that was without tallying my armour, weapons or the contents of my saddle's bags. Such a weight was focused and leveraged with the two meters long haft of my chosen weapon, so, just as my horse began her descent from the assault on the back of Kampê, I managed to exercise an unbelievable amount of force, coupled with whatever metaphysical power demigods inherently had.

I didn't aim for Kampê's back, nor for her neck, I wasn't under the illusion that a single sneak attack would be able to kill her, so I opted for the second optimal target: her scorpion tail. The first objective when facing someone vastly outside your reach and strength was to reduce mobility, or, if you can't manage it, its one-hit one-kill weaponry.

The point of my spear met unerringly the center of the scorpion's sting's base. The chitinous structure cracked immediately under my assault, just an instant before Mera's hooves touched again the floor, where she pushed again in order to move out of retaliation that came too quickly to be real.

Kampê's tail shuddered while the creature whirled with a howling, hissing roar spewing forth both from her actual mouth and the several ever-shifting animal faces that separated her womanly half from the dragon one.

I bent forward on Mera's back, feeling the air on my nape wail horribly when Kampê's malformed wing cut just an inch above me, and I was never more grateful for my admittedly impulsive purchase at Geryon's, which now proved her worth by hightailing away from the Tartarus' spawn.

As Mera galloped in a tight circle in order to bring us on the opposite side of the courtyard, the unholy voice of Kampê resounded in my ears, hissing just as the steel on my blade did now that it had a tar-like liquid running over it, happy result of my first assault: "What's this? A little demigod coming to his death?"

My eyes returned to my opponent, and I saw the revolting face of the monster turn into cruel amusement, her eyes open and gleaming of a hellish orange tint that made it look like her skull was the only thing containing all the misshapen forms of Tartarus itself. I opened my mouth to make a witty retort, to distract her if nothing else, but when she took a step forward on her dragon legs, hundreds of snakes slithering around her body, I gulped and remained quiet. My focus went instead to steel my resolve, just as the two jars of greek fire I had thrown before lunging landed upon her back, where they shattered, unleashing a viridescent gale of flames that clung to her form with a hungry woosh.

I expected rage, death threats, even an unstoppable retaliation, but Kampê simply laughed, her unholy voice echoing across the courtyard: "You think your little fire can harm me? I am from Tartarus, foolish demigod!".

Her voice once again brought forth terrible images of sulfur and empty wastelands, of creeping terrors and neverending ruin. But I was committed, and even overwhelmed as I was, I raised my weapon in a silent challenge as I felt my lips part back in a spontaneous snarl. For an instant, I felt like I was holding the Helm of the Adamas during the first freak storm that had claimed two of mine, and then the feeling was gone, leaving me unnaturally ready to face what should not be faced.

She thundered toward me on her dragon legs, hundreds of snakes slithering around her body making her look almost like a wave as she covered the distance between us, and I was saved only by the extensive training of Mera, who bolted on our left as I swung with my weapon against the clawed hand of Kampê.

What was supposed to be a heavy blow capable of staggering anything turned out to be nothing more than a barely acceptable parry as my flesh-eating horse bared her teeth threateningly towards the invincible monster in front of us. I shifted my weight enough for Mera to keep moving while I maneuvered my already ruined naginata in short stabs towards Kampê's eyes, who instinctively flinched back, but not before swinging out with her clawed hands, forcing me to swing with all my strength in order to not get skewered.

Mera briefly hesitated when a wave of sulfuric hot air washed over us, and Kampê was on us like a landslide, a second later, I was flung like a ragdoll across the air, my lungs struggling to take another breath after the previous lungful had been forcefully expelled. The world seemed to blur and spin before coming to an abrupt halt when my other side stopped cold against a wall.

The unbelievable pressure let up for an instant as I fell, my stomach climbing in my throat as the floor rushed me. I knew what to do, place my feet down and roll in order to disperse kinetic energy, so I somewhat managed to stretch my legs and ready myself, and when my feet reached down... I crumpled like wet paper, and for an instant, everything went dark.

The pain surged forth with a pressure that forbade me from drawing breath, and the coppery taste of blood made itself known as my own cheek was scratched by my teeth. With my head still spinning and my sight slowly climbing out of the sudden darkness, I forced myself to take a slow and shallow breath, pushing against the pain with all of myself, while I tentatively tried to figure out if my broken ribs had pierced my lungs.

It was telling that the pain of the blow reached me only after I had been slammed against a wall. But I could feel it, no scratch that, I could feel only that. Air once more left my lungs in a desperate wheeze as the throbbing pain of my ribcage made itself known with a vengeance, acting as a soundtrack to the rumbling stabbing hurt that washed over me every time I tried to breathe.

I was free, but the conceptual power of my mantra did not extend to freeing myself from pain. I was part of the physical word, and while I could gain some form of strength by remembering my deeds, apparently it was power only present in whatever metaphysical realm the Gods seemed to reside in. A pity, it would have been right useful.

My eyes rolled around desperately in time to see what looked like an endless streak of light repeatedly stab into Kampe, coming from... a wave of fire? Then I blinked, bringing into focus the glorious form of Abigail rushing around over Feb, her flaming horse.

With a heavy grunt and almost magically ignoring the pain of my body, I twisted the Mist around Kampê, making her dodge in one direction only for her head to slam against a catwalk, making her stagger in surprise long enough for my hands to close around the haft of my naginata, only for my eyes to crinkle in disgust when I saw the destroyed steel of the blade.

Where before there was a straight blade that had looked like the crystallized form of twin flames meeting from opposite sides, one celestial bronze and the other Damascus steel, now only the bronze side actually remained, its edge unmarred by the tar-like ichor of Kampê. Where before there was steel, now only a blackened ruin seemed to cling to the still bright bronze. I guess there is a reason why nobody goes around with a blade like this. I grimaced as I wavered for another instant between consciousness and Morpheus' realm.

With yet another push of sheer willpower, my eyes remained open as they roamed across the courtyard in time to see Mera bite off a viper that lunged from one of Kampê's rear legs, and I once more twisted the Mist around our clearly superior opponent, who seemed to grow wise to my tricks and turn towards me with her orange eyes shining with a promise of ruin.

While Kampê lumbered towards me, Abigail didn't let up her assault as I used my weapon as a crutch in order to stand, my trembling legs almost refusing to listen to me. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest, and I distractedly wondered if I would be able to count the beats between that instant and my imminent death.

Tartarus' daughter stopped for a moment in her advance in order to swing her sting-less tail like a bludgeoning whip towards Abigail, whose horse reared back and spewed ineffective fire over the offending appendage.

I started to breathe frequently and shallowly in order to spare my ribs from the worse of the stress just in time to climb on Mera's back once she reached me, and once more I cautiously engaged Kampê.

My group's only advantage? The lumbering form of Kampê had less maneuverability than us in the courtyard and in the balconies, nevermind the catwalks that our actually magical horses were barely capable of jumping from and to. Not for the first time, I wondered what kind of bullshit breeding program Geryon had applied to the line of equines we purchased. And yet, it was blatantly clear that there was nothing we could do capable of stopping the Jailer of Cyclops.

Our weapons, while capable of wounding her, were clearly not up to the task of inflicting wounds capable of actually hurting the monster. This is a big fucking problem.

"Free them, then back me up!" Abigail managed to shout amidst a flurry of golden arrows that glinted brightly even in the dim light of the courtyard, while the Kampê snarled terribly and whirled on her, only to get a mouthful of fire-breath from the demigoddess' flaming horse, which then was directed to run in a small circle around the lumbering form of Cyclops' Jailer.

Once more I made extensive use of my skill with the Mist, throwing what little there was left of my Greek Fire on Kampê's face, hoping that she would remain blinded until the fire was snuffed out. Without a sound beyond the hissing breath that left my lips, I slid off my horse and stumbled inside of Briares and Charles' cell, where I didn't waste time before swallowing the mouthful of nectar I still had on me and slapping Charles in order to awaken him.

While the Satyr groggily came to his senses, I leveraged the haft made of Hera's tree of Golden Apples to unhinge the bars that separated the large form of Briares from the courtyard, only to immediately swing my ruined weapon against the chain that kept the Hundred-Handed One prisoner, feeling that it was almost like a bind of Circe's magic. There was more to the chain than what I could consciously observe, but it didn't matter, I despised chains, because "I am free!".

I roared, more with my mind and soul than with my ragged voice, and the dark iron shattered under the weight of my strength of will.

With the corner of my eye, I spied Charles rising to his feet: "Prepare us a ferry to escape!" I ordered him just as I turned towards Briares.

"Abigail and I cannot defeat her." I freely admitted to the Hundred-Handed One, "But with your help, we can all escape, otherwise we're lost."

"I-I can't" his faces contorted in a mismatched mess of fearful and hopeless expressions, but I found one face, the same that had tasted ambrosia a few hours before, looking with desperate intensity towards the courtyard, and the small stretch of sky that was visible from our position.

"Will you let the only ones to help you in the last 2000 years die, Briares?" I felt the ethereal sensation that marked each of my discoveries about the extent of my semi-divine powers stir within me, but there was no water to command, no trick to pull, there was only me, forced to deal with my neverending need to push forward, "I have an island, hidden in the Sea, she won't find you there."

"That's not fair." but even as he spoke, a familiar hopeful face popped up from his usual sea of despair.

"Life and death are not fair. Kampê's not going to be fair if we hang around. She's going to blame you for ripping off the bars. I and mine are risking everything for you, now come on!" I insisted, forcefully shattering the last chain that in theory kept Briares from running.

Briares sniffled: "Unfair demigod." but his only hopeful face was now staring at me with wide eyes, desperate eyes, eyes that had seen everything being stripped from their owner, eyes that now landed on me with all the weight of more than 2000 years of agony. With a sigh that echoed across his fifty heads, he scampered to his feet and followed me out of the cell. I started to feel hopeful. All we had to do was get outside and board a ferry to the mainland.

My eyes landed once more on the courtyard, just in time to see the Greek Fire over Kampê's face splutter and die as her glowing orange eyes, still lacking anything resembling iris or pupil, found my form, and just behind me, her prized prisoner.

I heard a multiple whimper echo from behind me just as another volley of golden tinted arrows speared Kampê, who simply broke the shafts and let the arrowheads burn in her tar-like ichor as she lumbered towards us, and despite everything, I felt my lips pull back in a wide, taunting smile that showed just too many teeth to be anything but a threatening motion.

Then my eyes landed on the shredded form of Feb, his pale guts hidden under a scorching stretch of scars that ran cleanly through the dead horse and deep into the concrete of the floor. His fire had been snuffed out like a candle, leaving lazily curling streaks of smoke in the torrid air of the courtyard.

My eyes then found the exhausted form of Abigail, who was already directing my Mera up a catwalk while she sat backward on her saddle and kept up her supporting role.

Without stopping to consider any other option, we ran. We needed to reach the ferry, and then the city, in which we could hopefully disappear. I channeled my neverending need to push forward, and we moved as fast as our flesh allowed us to.

We bolted down the catwalk. This time Briares was happy to not only follow me, but he instead sprinted out front, a hundred arms waving in panic and mad hope that his torment was finally going to end. Behind us, I heard the sound of giant wings as Kampê took to the air. She hissed and growled like a bubbling spurt of lava from a volcano, accompanied by the sinister whistling of wings that seemed to cut the very air as she flew.

We scrambled up the stairs, through a corridor, past an empty guard's station and somehow we managed to reach outside, where we could spot a ferry with Charles waiting for us at the controls, which were, luckily enough, easy enough to use. "Punch down the walls!" I shouted to Briares, who was far too gone to question me, and with a mighty heave of his ridiculously powerful back, broke Alcatraz while we kept running.

When a hundred fists of Briares landed at the same time on the nearest structure, the concrete and the very ground seemed to ripple like water only to shatter as if it was made of glass, crumbling inwards and burying Kampê beyond our sight. We were temporarily safe. We ran through the jail yard and out the gates of the prison, the monster luckily trapped beneath the rubble while Mortals screamed and ran, fearful of the earthquake that the Mist convinced them was the true responsibility for the disaster. Emergency sirens began to blare.

Sadly, we could still hear the outraged hissing of thousands of snakes from the Pit, along with the tearing sound of metal being shredded and the thunder of rock being shattered. After being inside for so long, the daylight almost blinded me. Tourists were milling around, taking pictures. The wind whipped cold off the bay. In the south, San Francisco gleamed all white and beautiful, while in the north, over Mount Tamalpais, I could spy the endless column of Sky weight down on Atlas' back.

"Straight to the closest stretch of land! Don't bother with a pier!" Abigail shouted to the satyr at the moment my horse landed on the ferry, carrying her on her back, immediately followed by my trembling form and Briares, who was busy looking at his hands in what I could tell was a dumb stupor.

I grinned between my ragged breaths at the last of the Hecatonchīres: "I told you didn't I? If you wanted to, you could tear the very sky asunder." then I folded like a wet napkin and rested, sprawled, on the deck of the ferry.

Roughly five minutes after our hasty departure from Alcatraz, that now appeared to be like a random amount of rocks where pieces of buildings had been randomly tossed, with its lonely, abandoned lighthouse remaining standing as a monument to the ruin the rest of the island had witnessed, I heard it: a thud like sound that was immediately accompanied by a change in the air's pressure. A shrill scream born of the unholy combination oh howls, roars, hisses, and even the clacking of crab clamps far too large to be real.

After that unholy sound, I swallowed what ambrosia Abigail could spare, and wobbled back on my feet. I am free.

Thud. The glinting sun of the sunset seemed to forget completely about me, and its light shuddered over San Francisco.

"Well done Mera." I patted my horse distractedly even as she trembled with large patches of fur drenched in sweat. I am free.

Thud. A hot wave of air, smelling of sulfur and hate and ruinous stampedes across our backs washed over the bay of the city.

"We'll make it." I rested my hand on the thigh of Abigail with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. I am free.

"She killed my horse." the daughter of Apollo flatly replied, "We're killing the half-formed bitch."

Thud. The vibration carried through the air, seared through my still very much broken ribs, making me stumble as I tried to remain on my feet on the deck of the ferry.

A minute later, Abigail resumed her offensive with arrows that managed to glint in the light of the setting sun, singing in her father's domain even as the sun approached the horizon.

With a thundering crash, the ferry, still pushing forward with all of its might cracked against the Pier 45 of San Francisco, and as soon as we could, we jumped on land and found ourselves on a miraculously empty stretch of road that coasted the water, deciding to immediately run away from the quickly gaining shape of Kampê, that still soared ominously through the air, her wings beating the tempo of our escape.

"How do we kill that bithc?" Abigail seethed through her teeth as we moved, causing my mind to fruitlessly come up with a solution. 'I have no idea' didn't seem to be an acceptable answer.

Truly, my purpose had been freeing Briares, even befriending him, and that much we had halfway accomplished. Killing Kampê however, as a whole different kettle of fish. It was uncommon for Abigail to be the one to spur me towards an impossible task. Hell, it was uncommon for me to not be the one already trying the impossible, but then again, I had no idea what process the daughter of Apollo had to undergo in order to gain the loyalty of her flaming horse, which the daughter of Tartarus had happily slaughtered.

"Keep moving," Briares wailed, "she is behind us!"

We ran to the beginning of the Pier, soon finding ourselves in need to swerve among the regular mortals that very much missed the extremely problematic presence of Kampê. With Abigail keeping up our pitiful delaying tactic through her quickly depleting reserve of arrows, and Charles using the Mist in order to open us a path through the mortals, I was somewhat free of thinking about a way to 'kill the bitch', as the demigoddess riding my horse wanted.

"Briares dropped Alcatraz on her, it didn't work for long." I proposed distractedly, eyeing the skyscrapers around us.

"What about the mortals?" Charles pointed out as he ran.

"What about them?" I replied, biting down on my annoyance. Mortals died every fucking day, I was trying to keep my friends alive after having pissed off one of the top 5 monsters against which it was plain stupid to act. Kampê was in the top tier of monsters. Never defeated by demigods, only by a god with th help of others. Fucking hell, I would have preferred to face Ladon, at least he couldn't see through the Mist without even trying.

"We can't just randomly choose to condemn hundreds of mortals!" Abigail made her opinion known while Mera whined in irritation.

But we can. I kept my thought quiet as we ran, moving my thoughts in another direction. Had Abigail's Horse survived, Feb could have blown fire in order to clear us a path forward while hopefully provide a barrier against the daughter of Tartarus, instead, Mera covered that role by snarling hatefully at everything in her path.

With Charles opening the way with music that made the mortals uneasily leave the area and Briares' disbelieving behavior as he stuck close to us, we ducked between the buildings, hoping to suddenly stumble upon an opportunity to escape. Either we can ignore collateral damage, or we run away. I wanted to point out the foolishness of holding back on the account of bystanders when against a monster that far outstripped our might, but it seemed redundant.

If Abigail didn't want to endanger mortals, she should drop her wish to kill Kampê, because she's going to rain fire and brimstone in our wake. It was obvious, and if the daughter of Apollo ignored that point, I wasn't going to make her see sense while we escaped.

The angle of the building beyond which we had just ducked exploded. Tourists screamed as Kampê appeared from the dust and rubble, her wings spread out as wide as the whole fucking road. She was holding two swords, long bronze scimitars that glowed with a weird greenish aura, boiling wisps of vapor that smelled sour and hot even at a distance.

"Poison!" Charles yelped between a flurry of notes and the following one: "Don't let those things touch you or…"

"Or we'll die?" I coughed out some form of laughter while Abigail was busy insulting everyone that had ever held a sword and Briares whimpered after a half-hearted thought dedicated to defending us.

"Well…after you shrivel slowly to dust, yes." Charles completed his frankly unnecessary warning as we passed an ATM Bank of America while we ducked into Bay Street and kept running in search of a solution.

"Let's avoid the swords," I agreed as I half stumbled and half-used my weapon as a crutch to keep going forward, "Briares we could really use some of your help now!"

Instead, Briares looked like he was trying to shrink even smaller. He appeared to be wearing his absolutely horrified faces, even if one of his visages appeared regretful as he looked at me. Kampê thundered toward us on her dragon legs, hundreds of snakes slithering around her body. Even so, he started to casually pick parked cars and minivans, flinging them behind us without truly taking aim.

Nevertheless, he managed to buy us time, and we kept moving.

That was the end of the debate. There was no fighting that thing, she carried with her the wrongness of Tartarus, and... If we die, we die. The thought wedged itself without my consent upon my slightly hysterical mind, and I considered, only for an instant, what if.

We've reached this point, haven't we? It was true. We did some incredible shit this far, without a prophecy to guide us, without blanket protection given from the Fates, relying only on our skills and the general support of some of the gods, that more likely than not were the only reasons why we hadn't been erased from existence by a fit of boredom. Better than the heroes of old, and surely better than the childish adventure that Percy Jackson was going to have. Only because we could.

Abigail wants her dead. A part of me pretended to actually care about the demigoddess' foolish wish in order to make myself feel lees guilty about my impending decision of actually fighting Kampê. But I knew the truth. I wanted to fight, no to conquer the myth that was the Jailor of Tartarus. To sand where Zeus stood, and be able one day to laugh this moment off as one of my lesser accomplishments. Am I going to allow Kampê to push me around when Ouranos didn't succeed in doing the same?

With those thoughts building up in my mind, I slowed down even more than before, bringing my weapon to bear against the incoming ruin, that had just followed us in a parking lot that Charles' music had just emptied: "She's gaining on us." I stated forcefully between a ragged breath and another, feeling the burning in my legs from the effort of running like no mortal had any business doing, suffering through the weight of my broken ribs, and feeling my head pound with the sheer importance of my decision.

We turned into a larger road named Columbus street, where I hoped Briares could find something truly huge to throw at the monster, while Charles grimaced at the feel of the ever-increasing fire that we lest in our wake. Am I going to flee from the consequences of my choice of freeing Briares?

"The only effect that our last rounds of Greek Fire had was to set the city on fire!" the satyr reprimanded me while at the same time the daughter of apollo screamed at me in order to make me move faster.

When I hesitated, she actually snarled. "Icarus!" Abigail shouted, "We need to go!"

"We need to kill her." I blandly reminded her that she wanted to kill the one that had brutalized Feb.

Kampê barrelled fully into the road, just as the shadows generated by the setting sun swallowed us: "Briares, you don't need to get close, but throw at her whatever you can grab." I spoke quickly, clearly, and without leaving any space for objections. I already held the sky longer than Herakles, what's to say I can't kill Kampê?

We found a park, and I felt tentatively hopeful until Charles denied my mute request with a violent shake of his head, forcing us forward. Herakles and Alexander were the same, but they didn't risk falling under their own weight. The words of Janus rang in my head like a bell, causing a heavy frown to land on my features.

"Is that a fucking Elementary School?!"

"Kampê is ignoring everything but us, they'll be fine." I dismissed the satyr disbelieving curse as we kept moving, eventually reaching a park that sprouted some kind of commemorative tower. It was white, resembling a fire hose nozzle of some sort. It wasn't anything memorable, less than 60 meters tall, but it gave us options.

Will you unravel under the weight of your own name? The question came without voice, and without a body to utter it. Yet, it carried with it the delightful dissonance of twin voices trying to push my answer in different directions, and I spotted a familiar two-faced god in the corner of my eye, before I blinked, and he disappeared, making me believe that I had only imagined it.

"Abigail!" I indicated the tower, receiving a nod as an answer while she hopped off Mera, who slowed down immediately and seemed to be torn between fleeing and biting the daughter of Apollo.

"Charles, if the nature spirits don't help us here, they'll die anyway." I distractedly informed the satyr as I approached my horse, "You've been a good girl with Abigail, haven't you? We'll find something good to eat soon enough, I promise."

I tightened the latch that kept my helm in place and did the same with the shield that hung from my back as I climbed upon Mera. Will you pop under the strain? As I directed Mera, my mind dismissing the worrying voices of the bi-faced god, for an instant I felt like I was far away, looking at myself from a third person's eye, and with that detachment, I considered myself. Who I was, what I wished, what I was willing to accept, what I was willing to compromise.

I couldn't state something as foolish as 'I will not retreat', for there was wisdom in knowing when to take a step back. I could not claim as me something along the lines 'I will not be moved', because I recognized that the opinion of others could and should be able to change my own.

Then the moment passed, as if Reality had held its breath in order to give me the time to figure out the necessity of another piece to add to the mantra that was my very self, and I was once more staring at the world through my mismatched eyes, my senses burning brightly for a moment, until I managed to adjust to the adrenaline-fueled circumstances.

My companions would cover my back if it ever came necessary, but the mobility offered by a horse now that we were finally on an open territory wasn't something that I was going to ignore.

I would need every advantage for the frontal assault: "Abigail! Don't waste arrows, her eyes or mouth, if you can, her wrists, set her swings off-balance, Charles, steal a car and set it to crash against her, or fucking get the trees moving! Briares... just do whatever, but don't place yourself between us."

I tightened the knees on the sides of my horse and rose my weapon as the furious visage of Kampê neared us, and the motion seemed to set her off: "Little demigods and their great foolishness, little giants and their great fears..." she seemed to almost smile while the orange and unearthly glow of her eyes turned downright poisonous.

A golden arrow shattered itself against the enemy's right wrist, Mera rocketed forward only to disengage, just in time for a car to crumple against the form of Kampê, and I felt a smile stretch my lips: "Thanks Briares!"

In that moment, a shaken choir of voices rose from our surroundings, and roots that had no business moving attempted to trip the monster, whose viper-clad legs tore apart like they were made of water.

Yet, she wasted a couple of seconds on that, and I lunged forward, my ruined naginata battling away the instinctive scimitar's slash of Kampê, while my return blow managed to nick her right wrist, exactly where Abigail's arrow had left a mark. I am free. I repeated to myself, taking whatever calm it managed to give me.

Mera's sharpened canines held back the wolf's head sprouted from the conjunction between Kampê's upper and lower halves, trying to tear my leg off. My horse reared back, her celestial bronze horseshoes meeting with force another slash from the monster's right hand.

A golden arrow burrowed itself into Kampê's left eye, making the monster howl in outrage as she blinked, her eyelids breaking the shaft and the arrowhead burning into nothingness inside of the orange eye of the monster. Mera had taken that instant to hightail out of there, and a second later a boulder as large as a minivan slammed into the lumbering form of Tartarus' daughter, buying us a few more seconds.

Another two pebbles were picked up from the ground by Briares' eager hands and were flown faster than I could blink, growing larger and more unforgiving as they neared Tartarus' daughter. A branch from an oak snapped down on the tailbone of the monster, making her turn with an outraged hiss and another wave of sulfurous hot air. I stole a glance at Abigail, who seemed to read my movements with something akin to precognition while she rained golden arrows upon our opponent.

Mera charged forward while another golden arrow outran us, the first rock thrown by Briares slamming against Kampê hard enough to make her stagger, while the second was broken apart by a twin blow of the monster' scimitars.

The golden arrow landed once more in the beast's left eye, and then I was there, with Mera's hooves battling away the half-formed animal heads attempting to bite me and my unnamed, half-ruined weapon plunging deep into Kampê's right eye, effectively blinding her for a second.

Whatever power and strength I could muster came with each of my strikes, it was in each of my swings, I felt once more like I had once when facing against Thalia, like I had felt while crushing Circe. Whatever power I was due or could command from the sea surged in my arms, all the strength I had been able to exercise since I had gotten to know Atlas was there. Whatever command I had over the Mist was in each of my breaths, but I cared not for illusions. I wanted the world to follow my will, and whatever magic I was inherently capable of came just beyond the edge of the corner of my eye, just beyond my fingertips.

I acted, and I wanted the world to accept what I was doing. I am free.

I didn't relent, seeing the oak that had attracted the beast's attention had unrooted itself, intertwining its branches around the arms of my opponent, still overextended from when she had broken Briares' second rock. While the ancient tree started to shrivel into dust because of the poison on Kampê's blade, my naginata fell in a downward swing, my ribs howling in protest even as yet another golden arrow landed in the open mouth of the enemy.

The wrist that I had nicked before, that Abigail had knowingly or not marked for me, was cut. Not cleanly, for whatever held Kampê together under whatever passed for her skin wasn't simple flesh, but her right clawed hand was cut free from the rest of her body.

With another sharp torsion, that sent my ribs pleading for mercy that they wouldn't receive, I whipped my weapon in order to strike the blade of the falling scimitar, hurling it towards Birares, who jumped away with a yelp. I laughed even as my eyes reached the top of the nearby tower, from where Abigail looked down upon the battle with an unforgiving rage that suited her.

Mera ran away just in time to avoid being splattered by the immense scorpion-like tail that Kampê used as a bludgeoning weapon to strike us away. But I had eyes only for my naginata. While the celestial bronze appeared immune to whatever bullshit-venom the daughter of Tartarus had going for her, and the wood from Hera's Apple Tree that composed the haft seemed to be unfazed by the toxic substance, the side of the blade that had once belonged to simple steel, already ruined by the enemy's tar-like ichor, seemed to shudder.

Corrosion came forth ignoring gravity or whatever motion I did to arrest it, and in mere seconds, I was left with a blade that looked right out of a kid's edgy drawing phase. Where the blade had been quenched under a layer of clay, in order to keep it softer and more capable of witnessing pressure, now there was a layer of jagged, unforgiving, and twisted celestial bronze. Where it had once hugged the steel, granting stability to the whole construct, now it appeared like it had been newly quenched both in the tar-like ichor and in whatever poison Kampê 's blade carried. Where there had once been harmony and precision, now the weight of Tartarus seemed to twist the very air.

Another rain of rocks, courtesy of Briares, fell upon Kampê, the trees abandoned the fight now that they had witnessed what could befall them, and just like that Charles' music could no longer help us.

"It's now or never!" my knees spurned Mera forward, her hooves thundering on the ruined grass while a deep growl that matched mine echoed forth from her chest. I placed my naginata like I was some fucking knight jousting, and while Abigail kept up her support even as the sun hid behind the skyscrapers that hid us from the horizon, I fought.

The jagged side of my blade was more suited to sawing than to cutting, but I turned the weight of Tartarus upon Kampê herself, and the wounds that I managed to inflict now that she had a single scimitar brought a smile on my face, because they no longer healed after a few minutes.

After another exchange, Kampê started to barrel through most of what Briares threw at her, even as the Hundred-Handed One seemed to grow bolder now that we had shown him that we were capable of keeping our word, and Mera's muscles shivered unconsciously, exhaustion seeping deep into her. Kampê was a ruinous mess, but still very much capable of killing us all. We couldn't relent, couldn't let her room to breathe.

While I kept Kampê's attention on me, Abigail rained golden arrows on the back of the enemy, and in a lull of the fight, given to us by an unusually large boulder thrown by Briares, I looked at my fellow demigod.

At the top of Coit Memorial Tower, Abigail found herself in one of the last stretches of San Francisco where the setting sun still reached, and as I pushed forth my last offensive, my mantra echoing endlessly in my ears, I heard her like she was right next to me: "Πατέρας, if I ever meant anything to you... please, I never asked for anything... Slayer of the mighty Πύθων, help me."

As she finished her whispered prayer, her voice changed, echoing like a golden bell struck by a crystalline battering ram, and Abigail appeared to shine of a light coming from her very skin, blindingly bright, searing hot, unreachable and unstoppable as the very Sun that seemed to place a hand over her shoulder, the arrow ready to fly turning into a pure white light that forced me to look away, as, for an instant, it looked like the very star that sat at the center of the solar system was less than a meter from me.

Then I felt more than saw her relinquish the hold on the bowstring, and, I pushed one last time, with all that I was, like I was once more under the weight of the sky, opposing my existence to the concept of surrendering, ignoring the bursting feeling that overcame my gut, I stabbed blindly with my weapon adding a small swirling motion, hoping that my target hadn't moved at the last second.

A searing pain blasted my head on one side just as the Sun seemed to land on the back of Kampê's head, and everything turned black.

AN

I'm glad that everybody kind of caught up with the fact that the 'I am free' spiel has gradually made the MC somewhat unhinged. It is something that I did knowingly, and it is clear by now that having only that piece of mantra to refer to is pushing Icarus further and further from anything resembling a reasonable behaviour. He sees a challenge, and he immediately throws himself on it, to hell with anything else. It's not that his mantra gives him the solution to any random problem he faces, but it is something that keeps him from freaking out because of the admittedly batshit crazy series of events that saw him go from using the Mist to steal around and take care only of himself to holding the Sky and setting out with the Adamas.

This is my first time actually working towards a character's development, and you've seen thus far that the 'I am free' influence has been steadily growing since he first held the Sky, and despite Janus warning, there is no actually controlling yourself in this particular situation. Until Icarus slams hard against a wall, that will force another 'Truth' upon him, his behaviour will only keep growing more unhinged. He plans, and reasonably well at that, but when a plan falls through he can's even consider pulling back and trying in another way, he'll simply push forward, just like he did when he held the Sky. It's something I have set up and showcased knowingly, and in my head it makes sense.

For now, Icarus has no power to defy Fate, as I have clearly showcased with the whole Thalia-turned-tree-situation, will he eventually? I certainly hope so, but I must set up a situation with the Lore available in Greek Myth that can allow such. I already know how that particular part is going to happen, but it won't be for some chapters still, in any case, it is something that I've never seen done anywhere before, so I hope you'll keep enjoying this admittedly long set up.

About the Name:

As for the pieces of his Name, I didn't want to set the precedent that he's simply able to add pieces to 'himself' anytime he is at risk of dying. That's not how self-discovery works. I don't want to turn his name into a plot device,

To recap, after the first introductory Arc, we had the Skyholder Arc, and now we're going to rush through the escalating end of the Odyssey Arc, which I tried to make engaging, but there isn't a truly dynamic way to turn a succession of islands a là One Piece into something more entertaining, at least not while keeping up with the Plot that I've set out to accomplish, that admittedly requires a lot of pieces showcased here and there in order to make sense later.

About Abigail's bullshittery:

I don't know why Riordan hasn't made use of it, but after Zeus, Apollo is the strongest god. At least in open battle: the slayer of the might Piton really does not make him justice. It's the fucking SUN. You know, the thing that every sentient race worshipped at one point or another? Besides, it was high time that the gods started butting in directly in Icarus' life.

And I couldn't make 2 demigods succeed where Zeus plus 3 Hundred-Handed Ones were the only ones capable of killing Kampê.

The whys and the hows, as well as the consequences for what Icarus and his did, will be obviously seen in the following chapter (spoils too!).

About other pantheons:

About the integration of other pantheons, eventually, the MC will grow too large to not interact with them, but as stated in Riordan's work, each pantheon tends to keep to themselves, and in particular, Hera/Juno rides hard the Prophecy of the Seven in order to bring together the Roman and Greek camp. It's only by her direct intervention that the two manage to interact with something resembling coordination and not immediate violence.

'What about Renya? She was on Circe's island' - I actually discovered that fairly recently, and I had nothing in particular already set out for the Roman Pantheon, but yeah, New Rome will have a role. Again, not any time soon.

How did the fight with Kampe work out? I don't know if I managed to make it believable/nice-to-read. Opinions? I found out it's difficult for me to describe a fight between a humanoid and a misshapen monster, go figure.

Anyway, thank you all for the support and reviews!