Monster? No, I'm a Cultivator! (Percy Jackson): Chapter 1

A/N

I read a Cyclops MC story in PJO recently, and my brain went to weird palces. Cyclops MC in PJO basically goes 'fuck it' and decides to be a cultivator because the world is shitty. He somehow fails upwards, much to the chagrin of those around him.

@***@

He sat there in the sands, watching the ocean's tides.

It was hypnotizing for him, to watch the water push and pull at the world, gradually, it would move closer and closer to him until the first splash of sea water touched his toes.

It was warm, inviting, despite the coolness of the water.

The sun shined down from the sky, and ever so slightly, if he squint his eye, he could see the outline of a chariot, and the silhouette of a person pulling the sun across the sky.

As fantastical as that was, his mind remained numb. Instead, he seemed to focus back on the water, as the sky seemed somewhat…..hostile to him for some strange reason.

Well, that wasn't entirely true, he knew the reason.

He was 'born' but minutes ago, maybe hours? It was hard to tell because his mind wasn't fully formed until but a few moments prior. But with it, came memories, inherited memories.

On one side, it was the memories of his parents. His very inhuman and not mortal parents. There was a reason the Sea felt so inviting to him, being a child of Poseidon.

Unfortunately, he didn't land on the correct side of the half-blood wall.

His singular eye blinked.

He was a Monster.

A Cyclops.

He barely remembered the face of his mother from the inherited memories. Was it simply something that all Monsters were born with? An innate understanding of who, what, where and why?

It would be weird if a Monster didn't know they were a Monster.

Or maybe it was the tiniest amount of pity his supposed mother had left for him after abandoning him on this small island after giving birth?

He basically knew everything involved in being a monster. How to be the best monster he could be. His memories basically told him to go out and nom on some delicious Demi-Gods in particular. Frankly, his core practically salivated at the thought.

It was an odd feeling accompanied by the many other oddities.

And on the other side, he had other memories he inherited. Of a time when he was human, in a time before this life.

They were more…..mute in comparison. Like a faint echo, but one that resonated with his very soul and he refused to let go of.

He knew where he was, and what he was.

This world had so many rules. Fate, Destiny, Providence, the names for the driving forces of creation, they all conspired in a very specific way. And he was an outlier amongst outliers, a piece on the board that shouldn't be here.

He hesitated on what he should do.

In a world of Gods, Monsters, Titans and more, what was a small – relatively speaking – Cyclops to do?

He was no true Demi-God that inherited his Father's domains to the extent of a certain boy he will probably hear about in the coming years. He was also no legendary creature that had Myths and Legends to back up their existence beyond the simple racial ties.

He had no legendary arms, no magical might…..he had nothing currently.

He had many paths he could take. Try to develop his bloodline perhaps? Maybe see if he inherited any racial abilities towards forging? Explore the myriad possibilities that came with the magical side of this world?

However, he seemed to settle on one conclusion, a resolute look overtaking him.

"Fuck it, I'm going to be a Cultivator."

@***@

Now, what would a Cultivator do in this situation?

He pondered that question and came to a conclusion. A true Cultivator would make a name for themselves.

…..literally, not figuratively.

He didn't have a name.

He needed something elegant, somewhat imposing, but nothing cringy. Something that points back to his origins, with a subtle overtone of arrogance.

"Ὠκεανὸς ᾆσμα" The Greek words left his mouth, his innate ability to both speak and understand the dead language.

It meant Ocean Song.

He would now be known as Daoist Ocean Song.

It was the first thing he woke up to in this new world and life. The Song of the Ocean all around him and its majesty that he aspired to.

Now…..he had to figure out how to be a Cultivator in every other very important aspect.

Did Qi exist? Did other Pantheons Exist? If so, then the Chinese Pantheon Exists, therefor Qi is a thing.

Maybe it was just what they called Magic here?

Wasn't he a Magical Creature? Shouldn't he be able to absorb Qi just by breathing then?

He plopped down, sitting cross legged and closed his eyes, trying his best to feel the world around him.

Trying to sense the minute Qi in the air was…..an effort in futility for him because it was completely and utterly overshadowed by the Qi the Ocean was exuding that he seemed so synchronized with.

It was then that realization dawned on him.

Of course, he was a son of the Sea, obviously his Spiritual Root (Alignment) was water and he should focus on drawing the Ocean's Qi to properly cultivate.

He pulled the Water Qi to himself, the refreshing feeling, the embrace of the Ocean…..it washed over him and refused to remain within his body, circling within himself before leaving.

He briefly pondered if that was how Demi-Gods utilized their Godly Powers?

Regardless, he wasn't one to give up!

He tried his hardest to grab hold of the Water Qi and store it in his body, to plunder it and ascend the heavens in a single step! Or whatever a true Cultivator would say in this situation.

But as the sun slowly moved across the sky, he hadn't once been able to store the supposed Qi in his body.

Thankfully, with his vast experience reading many different ancient texts in his past life– of the animated and fictional variety – he knew quite a few things about being a Cultivator that he could try.

First off, maybe he should try storing the Qi in his Meridians?

That was a term often used in the sacred texts.

He even knew where they were located….approximately. He marveled at his past life's insight in spending many hours looking into the Sacred Texts of Wikipedia.

There were 12 major Meridians in the human body…..

He wasn't human, but he assumed it was the same.

Probably.

Was he supposed to start with the Heart Meridian? Or was that supposed to be last?

Oh well, Heart it was for the Monster Cyclops.

…..somewhere in the heart, maybe

He didn't know the exact spot. Was there an exact spot? Or was it something like it being different for everyone?

He pulled on the Water Qi and pushed it into his Heart. He could sense the Water Qi due to his innate connection to it as it ran through his body, through the connection, he could see every point it circulated inside of him.

Slowly, his Heart began to fill and he felt a pressure in response.

That must be it!

He fought against it, pushing more Qi into it, he must forcibly open his Meridian!

He pulled on as much Water Qi as he possibly could, pushing it into his heart, circulating it as best as he could so it didn't immediately escape.

Eventually, he felt something give.

He was ecstatic!

It was as if something broke.

A dam had been opened!

Blood was pouring out of his mouth!

Why did his chest hurt!?

He fell over, face first into the sand.

@***@

Slowly, gradually, the Cyclops's singular eye flickered open as the Ocean's waters tickled against him.

The Sun was still out, that was good.

Wait, he noticed that the Sun was…..on the wrong side of the sky.

Oh, it was a new day.

His chest felt a lot better.

Conveniently, he recalled how the children of Poseidon healed at tremendous speeds when submerged in the water, specifically Ocean water for the best effects.

Oddly, he felt brimming with energy.

He could feel something inside of himself, in his Heart, the Qi was circulating and not escaping from his body.

"Holy shit it actually worked!" He jumped to his feet, pumping his fist into the air, before quickly clearing his throat. "I mean, It seems I broke through the first level of Qi Condensation." That which he was tentatively naming what he had done.

Twelve Major Meridians, Twelve realms of Qi Condensation.

Though truly, he felt powerful.

The Water Qi he absorbed, he felt it answer his call and he could call upon it. He ushered it out, around his fist, and threw a punch.

The air whipped at the force. However, just that much was a bit tiring.

Of course he knew that he had barely stepped upon the path of Immortality, thus he only had a tiny amount of Qi to utilize.

Now that he officially stepped on the path of Cultivation, he needed to choose how to proceed. There were many Daos to consider here for a budding Cultivator.

The Dao of Alchemy was a popular one, but he didn't think he had the patience for it. The Dao of Forging was another, but that was the same trouble as the first.

Actually…..there was a Dao for everything, he could just pick what he liked best.

And a true Cultivator should use a sword!

He looked around at the island he lived on….for all two days of his existence.

There wasn't much to work with, perhaps enough trees to make a raft if he wanted to drift away somewhere, but he wondered if there were any actual animals living on the island.

Oddly enough, he hadn't felt hungry yet.

Maybe it was because he almost died – Broke through.

Well, there was always one sure fire method to acquire a proper Magical Artifact.

Nepotism!

"Daaaaaaaaaaaad!" He called out, touching on the surface of the water. "I want a weapon!"

Surprisingly, he felt a vague response.

Not talking….more like a relay of emotions that he could decipher upon the waves.

From his memories, he knew that Gods weren't technically allowed to interact with their non-godly children in any meaningful capacity for some stupid and probably made up reasons.

But right at this moment, he felt like he had the attention of the Sea.

He felt...a mild amount of amusement as the eyes of a God looked at me.

Over his head, he felt the Ocean's power solidify into the shape of a Trident. A miniscule show of divine might from the Sea God as it condensed and truly transformed into a real weapon, landing upon the sands at his feet.

The Cyclops hesitantly poked at it to make sure it was real before picking it up.

"Dad….." The Cyclops whispered, caressing the Trident. He felt the gaze of his Father, warm and loving in this moment. He caressed it a few more times then threw it into the water with a huff. "I want a sword!"

The Sea God was…bewildered. He had never encountered one of his children react this way.

Far away, from the deepest depths of the Ocean, Poseidon, God of the Seas pursed his lips and raised a finger.

The Trident shot back out of the water smacking the Cyclops in the head as if to chastise him.

With that, he turned his gaze away, feeling he directly interfered enough.

"Dad, a sword, I want a sword!" The Cyclops continued to whine, but it fell on deaf ears as the God intentionally ignored him. "What kind of Cultivator uses a Trident!"

The Sea God heard the words, furrowing his brow as to why one of his children wanted to be a farmer...in which case, why would he want a sword?

He chalked it up to a quirk of his Monster child compared to his normal children and truly turned away, ignoring him completely rather than just his whining.

Ocean Song realized rather quickly that his whining wasn't going to accomplish much anymore. It seems that Nepotism had indeed failed him. Unless he can find somewhere to hawk – trade his Trident for a proper sword. But that seemed unlikely due to the fact that he was a Monster which would probably be killed on sight.

Thus, he changed his methods.

If whining didn't work, then the next method was Audacity.

He walked to the forest, using his newfound weapon to chop down some trees, making enough firewood for a decent bonfire.

Thankfully, he also found a decent stone that he could probably make some sparks with his Trident.

It took some effort – hours, to make a fire, but he was able to use his newfound Qi to somehow exuberate the process.

In the sand, he drew the symbols of Poseidon, the Sea God.

"You are called Earth-Shaker, Father of Horses, and Lord of the Sea. You are Storm Bringer and Atlantis King. You are the protector of sailors, and their bane. You are the summoner of Hurricanes, the commander of floods, and the bringer of droughts." He shamelessly began to rip off other source material, making things up as he went along. However, he felt his Father's attention snap to him, a strange sense of….pride? He felt his Father's self pride among a hint of arrogance. "You have as many names as there are winds, and as many titles as there are ways to die. You are Poseidon!" He threw his hands up with a flourish, and the flames of the bonfire intensified as he felt the gaze of his father much more than earlier.

If before he was spared a glance, now, it felt like he had the full and undivided attention of the Sea God.

Poseidon himself was pleasantly surprised at the ceremonial offering. He wasn't unfamiliar with the ritual, barely paying it any heed as mortals paid their proper respects to him. But rarely had someone been so…. verbally grandiose in their rites before.

The Cyclops in question, slowly picked up the trident he had received not a few hours earlier, and unceremoniously threw it onto the fire in offering.

With a wisp of flames, it disappeared.

Maybe it was the audacity of his newest son, but he seemed to have accepted it without a second thought as the Trident he had given him earlier now clanged to the floor right infront of his throne.

The Sea God moved a hand up to the bridge of his nose, and let out an uncharacteristic sigh, thankful that he was alone in this moment.

"I ask for one boon, or great Poseidon!" Poseidon's newest son declared. "Dad I want a sword!"

Ocean Song felt a wave of odd feelings amidst the….waves of the ocean. Exasperation was among the forefront, along with a hint of, well, not quite anger, but he felt like it was more along the lines of wanting to smack him upside the head for some reason.

"You are a son of mine, just use a Trident!" Poseidon, both impressed and annoyed in equal measure with his newest son, answered him directly, verbally, to his own detriment.

The Ancient Rules forbid interaction, but there was a bit of …..leeway.

"I want a sword!" He shot back.

"It's a good trident!"

Ocean Song blew a loud raspberry.

"Are you a child!?" Poseidon grumbled in irritation, still verbally connected with his son across the distance.

"Yes!" He answered back without hesitation. "I'm literally two days old, give me a damn sword!"

At this point, it was a matter of pride for Poseidon. He didn't truly care if his son preferred another weapon, but his newest son needed to be taught a lesson. Sure, he wouldn't harm his son, but at the very least, he would make him suffer just a tiny bit in this way.

"You're using a Trident, and that's final. If you dare throw it away again, I'll make it so that any other weapon rusts in your hands."

Ocean Song furrowed his brow, realizing that his second method of attack didn't work. Nepotism failed. Audacity didn't quite hit the mark.

He was left with his final weapon.

He took a deep breath, reached deep inside himself, and began wailing like the infant he technically was.

Poseidon was taken off guard once more.

He admired his new son's shamelessness in a way. Though in equal parts, he felt like his son was in need of a very thorough spanking.

Poseidon looked afar from his Throne in Atlantis, as his newest son, sitting on the beach, crying.

It wasn't fake tears, well, it was fake, but he was fully crying with everything he had. The Sea God wasn't fooled, but simultaneous, he felt a small twinge in his heart seeing his newborn son actually crying.

Though he hardened himself. He would not be….extorted by a newborn son of his!

Instead, he just chuckled. "Son, do you think this is the first time I've had to deal with a crying baby?"

Rather quickly, the Cyclops' tears abruptly stopped. Poseidon felt good, seemingly as he won. He would never mention to anyone that he felt prideful at getting a win over his literally two-day old son, but the fact of the matter stood.

He narrowed his eyes, however, noticing his son going very…still.

He watched as his son stood up, moving to the fire, the method of offering amateurish and primitive, but he didn't blame his son for that aspect. Intent, he felt, was important when mortals gave offerings. He didn't have much to work with, but his son started to do something around it.

Of course it's not like him destroying the small alter would cut off any 'connection', he was a powerful God, keeping it connected was literally effortless.

He looked at what his son was doing. His son had originally drew a few vague images of his symbols in the sands, smart if nothing else. But he started to…change them.

"…..son." He whispered almost unconsciously as the first symbol appeared, a dolphin. The second one, a seal. The third one, a Trident.

Poseidon's son looked out onto the ocean, a rather mischievous smile appeared on his face. "Hey dad, these are the symbols of your wife, right?"

He asked, knowing the answer to that question already.

"…..Son, what are you doing?"

"I'm just….paying respects to the wife of my father, that's not wrong, is it?" He said with faux innocence. "If I just start crying, well…..I can't be faulted for that, can I? I'm only two days old and my dad won't give me a sword like I want."

Poseidon didn't know what was more impressive. The fact that his Son had the gall to blackmail him – a God, a being that could smite him with but a gesture.

….or the fact that he succeeded in doing so.

"What do you want?"