Son of Hades (Percy Jackson) Chapter 303: Underworld Meeting (2)

[Third person POV] 


Markus was slammed into the coarse grey sand with a loud grunt, the wind knocked from his lungs. Towering above him was a grotesque creature—a twisted fusion of ghoul and vampire—its skin a pale ashen grey, eyes pitch-black voids that seemed to consume all light. Sharp, jagged fangs jutted out of its snarling mouth as it screeched in his face, foul-smelling saliva flying with every howl and splattering against Markus’ cheeks.


With a growl of effort, Markus bent his knees and drove both feet into the creature’s torso, launching it backward with a thunderous kick that sent it tumbling through the dust. He didn’t waste a second. With a single beat of his powerful wings, he was back on his feet and soaring forward, his twin sickles gleaming with menace.


The air sang with steel as Markus expertly spun and slashed, his blades moving like extensions of his body. The monster screamed in agony as he carved through its flesh, the sickles reducing it to shredded ribbons. With a final flourish, Markus brought both crescent blades down across its face, the sharp edges cutting deep. A spray of dark blood burst forth, coating his skin with sticky warmth.


The creature let out one last, pitiful groan before collapsing onto the sand, where its body began to disintegrate. Ash and dust swirled into the breeze as the remains faded from existence. Markus wiped his face in mild disgust, muttering, “Yuck,” as he flicked away the remnants of its bodily fluids.


He turned his head to check on Lucian and saw him standing tall amidst the chaos, holding his sword vertically in front of him with both hands. An entire horde of undead surged toward him. Calm and composed, Lucian exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. In the next moment, his entire body dissolved into writhing shadows.


In this incorporeal state, Lucian drifted silently through the horde like a whisper in the dark. The sword he wielded vanished into the shadowy veil, completely obscured. The undead didn’t even react—he was as intangible as the night itself. Once he reached the end of the group, Lucian rematerialized with a snap.


He flicked his sword in a arc, sending droplets of blood flying through the air to splatter onto the sand. Behind him, the undead that he had passed through shuddered violently before their bodies burst apart. Severed limbs and gory fragments flew in every direction before crumbling into dust, carried away by the Asphodel wind.


Lucian exhaled and grinned with smug satisfaction. “I'm so freaking cool,” he said under his breath.


Markus rolled his eyes at the comment and took to the air once more. With a spin mid-flight, he flipped and came crashing down in the midst of six approaching undead. The moment he landed, his aura flared to life. It rolled off his skin like a storm, swirling with dark energy before forming into massive tendrils that lashed out in every direction.


The tendrils impaled the undead with brutal precision, piercing their chests and wrapping tightly around them. With a pulse of dark power, the tendrils began to drain them—siphoning their life-force with a sickening hiss. The creatures twitched, groaned, and slowly crumbled into lifeless husks that disintegrated into ash.


Lucian approached with his sword resting lazily on his shoulders. “You have to remember to conserve your energy in a fight,” he said calmly, offering a word of advice. “Charging in and going all-out every time will leave you drained. Eventually, you’ll burn yourself out, and that’s when you’re vulnerable.”


“I know,” Markus replied confidently, still panting slightly. “That’s why I used them to recharge myself. I’m absorbing their life-force to refuel my power.” He raised his hands, allowing his swirling aura to visibly rise and dance along his fingers.


Lucian nodded approvingly. “Good. Smart thinking. You’re starting to use your head”


As the two continued their march through the fields of Asphodel—now nearly halfway through—the grey haze of drifting souls surrounded them. Lucian glanced over at Markus with a thoughtful expression.


“Have you ever considered adding a fear factor to your powers?”


Markus blinked, confused. “A fear factor?”


“Yeah,” Lucian clarified, lifting a hand and summoning a portion of his shadow to rise into the air. “Something that makes your powers look terrifying. You know—intimidation. Something that puts fear into your enemies before you even strike.”


The shadow in his palm began to shift and morph. It grew a gaping maw filled with rows of jagged, razor-sharp teeth and slitted, glowing eyes that glared with eerie sentience. The creature snapped its jaws repeatedly, its form unnerving even to Markus.


“For example, when you're draining someone's life,” Lucian continued, “you could make your tendrils take on a monstrous form. Give them mouths. Make them look like they’re gnawing the soul out of your victims. It’ll terrify anyone who sees it.”


Markus chuckled, flexing his fingers. “I think the fact that I can manipulate death itself will scare most people enough.”


Lucian let out a laugh as the two of them passed wandering spirits in black cloaks, their empty eyes staring blankly into space. “Haha! Yeah, you’ve got a point there.”


Markus looked down at his hands, a contemplative smile spreading across his face. “Still, I’ll think about it. Like you taught me—experimenting with my powers helps me understand them better.”


Without missing a beat, Markus hurled his sickle into a group of nearby undead. The weapon spun violently in the air, a vortex of death, and sliced clean through several necks in a single arc. Heads rolled, bodies crumpled, and his sickle returned to his hand.


As the two of them exited the Fields of Asphodel, the air grew colder, heavier, and far more oppressive. Ahead, standing in formation like eerie statues, skeletal guards loomed with their rusted armor and hollow gazes. They remained perfectly still, weapons clutched in bony hands, their sole duty being to ensure no restless soul escaped the realm of the dead. Positioned exactly at the midpoint between the end of the Fields and the towering gates of Hades’ castle, they stood as an immovable line of defense—should the god of the Underworld ever call upon them.


Lucian’s eyes narrowed immediately, and his entire demeanor shifted as a visible grimace formed across his face. His scowl deepened with every step they took closer to the bone-clad sentinels.


“What’s with you?” Markus asked, blinking in surprise as he turned his sickles back into the glowing tattoos etched across his shoulders. “You look like you just stepped on something foul.”


“I don’t do well with skeletons,” Lucian muttered under his breath. “Creepy little fuckers
”


Markus stared at him, stunned. “Wait—are you being serious right now? You?” 


Lucian grumbled something incoherent and waved a dismissive hand before walking ahead. “Let’s just keep moving. I’ve got someone I need to introduce you to.”


“Really? Who—oh my god
” Markus stopped mid-sentence, his voice hitching in his throat as his gaze traveled into the distance.


What he had initially mistaken for a massive, furry hill began to stir.


Not one
 but three massive heads rose, groggy and yawning with jaws large enough to snap a giant in half. The ‘hill’ wasn’t terrain at all—it was Cerberus, the three-headed hound of the Underworld, who had apparently been taking a peaceful nap nearby. As he caught wind of a familiar scent, all three heads perked up at once.


Markus felt every instinct scream as the monstrous dog rose and bounded forward. The ground shook with every thunderous step, sending tremors through the dark soil and rattling Markus’s bones.


“Uh-oh—nope, nope, nope—” Markus stepped back instinctively, heart pounding like a war drum.


Then, without warning, Lucian sprinted forward and leapt into the air. With a roar and impossible strength, he tackled Cerberus with enough force to send the enormous dog rolling. A deep quake spread through the ground as Lucian landed on top of the beast.


From the surrounding shadows, several identical copies of Lucian burst forth—shadow clones—each one diving into Cerberus with playful ferocity. They ruffled the beast's thick fur, scratched behind each head's ears, and baby-talked the terrifying guardian like it was a beloved puppy.


“There’s my big boy~!” Lucian cooed in a tone that was utterly incompatible with the fearsome monster beneath him. “How’ve you been, you beautiful furry menace, huh? You missed me?”


Markus could only stand there in silent disbelief, blinking several times. “What the actual f—”


Cerberus shook its entire body, scattering some of Lucian’s clones, and gave a gleeful bark that echoed like thunder through the Underworld. One of its tongues lolled out and drenched Lucian in a wet, slobbery lick, causing him to grimace and chuckle at the same time.


Then Cerberus turned its attention to Markus.


All three heads locked onto him at once.


The ground vibrated again as Cerberus padded forward slowly, its heads sniffing at the air with growing interest. Markus stood frozen, every part of him screaming run, but his legs refused to move.


Cerberus lowered its heads, gave a deep inhale, and let out a bark of recognition.


Lucian crossed his arms and grinned smugly. “Smells familiar, doesn’t he?”


Markus didn’t have time to process the question before Cerberus licked him—all of him—with one massive swipe that left him soaked in thick dog drool.


“Ughhhh! That is disgusting,” Markus groaned in revulsion, immediately summoning his aura of death to sizzle the saliva off his body like acid eating through grime.


“Cerberus likes your father,” Lucian said matter-of-factly, patting the creature’s hind leg affectionately. “So, you’re good in his book.”


Markus muttered something under his breath, still wiping himself down with his powers. “Everyone just loves my father, don’t they?”


“Yup!” Lucian said with a cheer that was clearly meant to annoy him. It worked.


“Let’s just get this over with,” Markus grumbled, walking past Lucian, though not without shooting Cerberus a very cautious, lingering glance.


Lucian stayed behind for a moment longer, letting out a small sigh as he raised his hand. Three massive shadowy hands rose from the earth and lovingly scratched Cerberus beneath his chins. “I’ll be right back, bud. We’ve got some official business to take care of.”


He turned and jogged after Markus. “Hey! Wait up!”


Markus was now standing before the massive black doors of Hades’ castle. The towering obsidian gates loomed over him, emanating a sense of finality that made even his skin crawl. Despite all his bravado earlier, his face showed the slightest trace of nerves.


Lucian walked up beside him and gave him a hearty slap on the back. “Relax. You’ll be fine. My father’s probably already aware we’re here. He’s not really the type to be surprised.”


He placed both hands on the doors and began to push. “Come on, don’t second-guess yourself now. You’ve come all this way, made it this far. It's a little late to start thinking about turning back, don't you think?”


Markus stared into the long, dark corridor beyond the doors. Cold air rushed out from the darkness, whispering secrets only the dead should know. He took a deep breath, clenched his fists, and stepped forward.


The heavy metal doors groaned and closed behind them with a deep, echoing clang, sealing off the light—and sealing Markus’s decision.


There was no turning back now.