CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
—dumb blessings

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—THE air tasted of ash and inevitability, heavy with the scent of destruction that clung to everything. Judith stood at the edge of the fray, the chaos of the battlefield spinning around her, but her thoughts were elsewhere — haunted by Silena's final, broken words, Forgive me.

  But there was no time for grief, not yet. Not when Clarisse's voice thundered above the madness.

  "I AM CLARISSE, DRAKON-SLAYER!" she bellowed, standing tall on their — her chariot as it barreled into the heart of a retreating Titan legion. Even without her armor or spear, Clarisse was a force of nature. Everything in her path crumbled — monsters, shields, even the walls of dracaenae.

  Judith watched on as she charged back toward the fallen drakon, her chariot grinding to a halt next to its carcass. She looped a grappling line through its empty eye sockets and lashed the chariot into motion. The massive corpse scraped along the pavement behind her, its gutted body dragged like a monstrous trophy.

  The sound was awful — sharp and grating, like a hundred knives tearing into stone — but it didn't stop Clarisse. She circled the battlefield, her voice booming above the retreating enemy lines.

  "Where is Kronos?" she roared. "BRING HIM OUT! Is he too much of a coward to face me?"

  Judith stood frozen, a scimitar still clenched in her trembling hand. She could feel the heat radiating from Clarisse, a fiery glow flickering around her like an aura.

  "Our father's blessing," a raspy voice came from her left, tone edged with something close to reverence.

  She turned sharply, her heart giving an uneven lurch. Phobos stood just a few steps away, his red-tinged gaze fixed on Clarisse as she continued her rampage through the battlefield. His posture was calm, but there was a weight to his presence, a heaviness she felt every time they appeared.

  "And a curse," Deimos added, stepping up beside his brother, the smell of sulfur following. His voice was quieter than usual, lacking its usual sharp edge of mockery.

  Judith's grip tightened on her blade. "What are you doing here?"

  "Same as you," Deimos said with a shrug, casually skewering a stray empousa with his spear as it tried to crawl out of a storm drain. "Fighting. You didn't think we'd let all our siblings have the fun without us, did you?"

  Judith's eyes narrowed. "You call this fun?"

  Phobos tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "It's war. It's in our nature. Just like it's in yours."

Deimos jabbed a thumb toward Clarisse, who continued her rampage, glowing brighter with every furious strike. "You're jealous, aren't you?" he asked, his tone somewhere between teasing and something heavier. "You're wondering why he didn't give it to you."

Yes—No.

Judith turned sharply toward him, a retort ready, but Phobos cut her off, his tone unusually serious. "Father couldn't give it to you, Judith. Not with what you're already carrying. The curse of Achilles. The odikinesis. The thermovariance. A gods damn son of Poseidon practically wrapped around your finger. You'd be unstoppable — and not in the good way."

Judith flinched at the bluntness of his words, her chest tightening. "You think I'd lose control," she said, her voice low.

Deimos raised an eyebrow. "You think you haven't already? I carried you off the battlefield yesterday."

Judith's jaw clenched, but Phobos stepped forward, his gaze hard and unrelenting. "It's not about control. It's about balance. Even he knows better than to tip the scales too far."

"Yeah, well, maybe he should've thought of that before sending me to the Styx," Judith snapped, the bitterness in her voice cutting through the chaos around them.

Deimos gave a humorless laugh. "Oh, don't kid yourself. That wasn't about balance. That was about desperation."

"He saw what was coming." Phobos nodded grimly. "What you'd need to survive. The Styx wasn't punishment, Judith. It was preparation."

She stared at them, her anger warring with the nagging weight of their words. "And you just went along with it? Like good little lackeys?"

Deimos bristled, but Phobos raised a hand, silencing him. "We didn't do it for him despite his say," he said, his voice steady. "We did it for you. Whether you believe that or not, it doesn't matter. We're here now."

Judith opened her mouth to respond, but Clarisse's voice cut through the battlefield, raw and thunderous.

"KRONOS! Where is he? BRING HIM OUT!"

Her chariot tore through the battlefield, dragging the drakon's carcass in tow. Spears and arrows bounced harmlessly off her glowing form, but Judith could see the strain, the way the blessing fed on her fury, demanding more and more.

"She can't keep this up," Judith said, her voice quieter now. She could feel it, the power simmering below a boil. It wasn't enough.

The brothers exchanged a glance, then looked back at Judith.

"She's going to tear herself apart," Phobos said, as if discussing the weather. "The blessing makes her invincible for now, but it feeds on her anger. It'll drain her dry when it's done."

"And what are you going to do about it, hero?" Deimos added, his grin sharp.

Judith felt the heat rising in her chest, the fire that always seemed to burn just beneath her skin when they were near. She could supply the anger. She had ample supply of it, and she could give it all to her sister. She scowled. Their words settled in her chest, lighting the fuse of the storm inside her. They wanted her to pour her fury into Clarisse, to make her stronger. But the thought terrified her. If she let that fire go, even for her sister, could she pull it back? Could she stop herself from burning everything?

Phobos stepped closer, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "You're already holding it back, Judith. You've been holding it back your entire life. That anger — your anger — it's not just yours. It's his. It's ours. And it's what she needs right now."

Judith's eyes darted to Clarisse, who was a blur of motion, her chariot carving brutal circles into the retreating enemy lines. The glow around her was flickering now, uneven and strained.

"She'll burn out," Phobos pressed, his voice sharp. "If you don't act, she'll burn out and take herself with it."

Judith closed her eyes for half a second, feeling the heat in her chest surge to the surface. The odikinesis. The curse. The rage that wasn't just hers, but centuries of war and bloodshed. She hated it, feared it — needed it.

She stepped forward, raising her free hand and focusing on Clarisse. The fire inside her roared, desperate for release.

"What if it's too much?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

Phobos smirked, but his tone held no malice. "It won't be. She's our sister. She can take it."

Deimos nodded, his expression uncharacteristically solemn. "But don't push too hard. You overextend, you fall. She falls. Then who's left standing?"

Judith gritted her teeth. If the blessing fed on fury, then she could give it what it needed — bit by bit, a steady stream to keep her sister standing. The power inside her swelled at the thought, eager, almost alive.

With a sharp breath, Judith let go.

The fire in her chest exploded outward, invisible but unmistakable, flowing from her like a tidal wave and crashing toward Clarisse. She felt it leave her, a burning, raw energy that clawed its way out and latched onto her sister.

Clarisse staggered for half a heartbeat, the glow around her flickering — and then it blazed. The red fire that had been faint before now roared to life, brighter and hotter, enveloping her entirely. Her chariot wheels sparked against the pavement, her voice rising above the battlefield with newfound ferocity.

"I AM CLARISSE, DAUGHTER OF ARES!" she shouted, her voice carrying like thunder. "COME FACE ME, OR DIE LIKE COWARDS!"

The enemy hesitated, their retreat stuttering as her presence overwhelmed the battlefield.

Judith took a shaky breath and turned toward the chaos of another fight nearby, unsheathing her other scimitar. She couldn't stay still — not with the excess energy demanding release. She was giving it an inch, but it was demanding a mile.

She moved forward, carving her own path through the hordes of monsters. Each swing from Soulrender and Bloodscythe were deliberate, powerful, yet controlled. She had to hold back just enough to keep a constant feed to Clarisse, but it didn't like being siphoned so carefully.

Every time she felt her anger bubble over, she let it surge toward her sister. It wasn't a constant stream — more like steady waves, keeping Clarisse burning but never tipping over the edge.

It was exhausting. Sweat trickled down Judith's temples as her insides screamed in protest. Every burst of power burned her a little more, but she didn't stop. She couldn't.

Phobos and Deimos watched her for a moment as they also tackled a small influx of monsters, their eyes glinting with something unreadable. Deimos gave her a sharp nod, and Phobos just smirked.

"You're doing fine," Phobos said, as if the words weren't meant to be encouraging but more of an acknowledgment of her determination. "Keep that connection going, and she'll stay untouchable."

Deimos said nothing, but his gaze lingered for a second longer before he looked toward the distant battlefield, where the rest of the Ares cabin was chopping their way through the fray.

Without a word, they turned on their heels, rushing toward their siblings, their presence like a storm.

"Judith!"

Well, no wonder they ran off so quickly. Scaredy cats.

She turned at the sound of Percy's voice, his face grim as he ran toward her. He cut down a dracaena in one smooth motion before reaching her side.

"Clarisse looks like she's going to take down the whole block," Percy said, glancing toward the glowing figure on the chariot. "But you—" He stopped, taking in the strain on her face. "What are you doing?"

"She needs it," was all she offered. "If I stop, she falls."

Judith flinched as his worry softened his face. "And you'll be okay to keep this up?"

"For however long she needs," she said resolutely.

"You know your limits..." he conceded.

Did she?

"Please, take care of yourself," he added. "We're going up to Olympus. Annabeth and I. Thalia's staying to hold the line. We'll be back soon."

Judith managed a small smile, despite the strain. "You sound like you don't trust me to pace myself."

Percy smirked faintly, though his eyes betrayed his concern. "I trust you. I just know how stubborn you are."

She huffed a quiet laugh, her grip tightening on her blades' hilts as another wave of monsters surged forward. "Go. I'll keep her standing."

Percy hesitated for a moment longer before stepping back. "Take it easy, Judith," he said, his voice low but firm. "We're finishing this together."

She didn't respond, already turning back to the battle. She let another pulse of power flow toward Clarisse, the glow around her sister blazing brighter in response.

Judith squared her shoulders and gritted her teeth, cutting through the next wave of enemies. She wasn't just holding the line anymore. She was holding her sister, keeping her standing, and she would keep doing it until there was nothing left to give.

...

It went on for what felt like hours, though it could have only been half an hour.

Her body was burning, but not in the way it had been before. The rage, the anger that had been feeding Clarisse's invincibility, was starting to slip through her fingers. Every blow she struck, every enemy she felled, was another piece of herself gone. Another body of anger that she could not draw from.

She could feel it — the growing weakness in her limbs, the strain in her chest as the fire that had been so fierce began to smolder. The anger that had once been easy to summon, easy to harness, was slipping away. Her comrades were falling. She could feel their fury draining away from her, leaving nothing but an empty, hollow ache.

Her connection to Clarisse was weakening too. Her sister's glowing form flickered, a shadow of the fire she'd been just moments before.

And then the ground shook beneath her feet. She looked up, and her heart sank.

The Ice Giants had arrived.

Hyperboreans.

Massive, towering figures in armor made of glistening ice, their footsteps shaking the earth. Judith barely had time to react before one of them swung a massive axe in her direction. She dodged, but the movement was sluggish, the power of the fire and fury fading with every breath.

Her grip on her blades faltered, and the fire inside her sputtered out, leaving only cold emptiness in its wake. She stumbled back, breathing hard, trying to summon something — anything — left to give.

But it was too much.

She felt like she was drowning in the void left by her sister's faltering strength, unable to fight back against the tide of ice that was starting to consume them all.

And then Clarisse fell in the distance. Or rather, she was enveloped in ice.

And Judith decided that was a better fate for her than continuing a losing fight. She pulled back the threads of power.

Her own scimitars were slick with frost, the once-sharp blades now dull, ice-coated masses that barely cut through the air. She swung it at the Hyperborean Giant with all the strength she could muster, but each strike felt slower, weaker. The rage — the fire — that had fueled her for so long was gone, replaced by an unrelenting coldness, the weight of every loss crashing down on her.

The Hyperborean giant laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed across the battlefield. His massive axe swung at her, and she barely dodged in time, the ice shards it sent scattering over the ground biting into her skin. Every breath she took felt like ice sliding into her chest, her limbs growing heavier with each movement.

But there was something in her, something deep within, that wouldn't let her fall. She was the last one standing. Her comrades had fought valiantly, but they had been overwhelmed — her siblings, the Hunters, the centaurs, all gone or too injured to fight. The battlefield was eerily quiet now, the sound of the wind the only noise that filled the void left by the fallen.

And behind the giant, marching in formation, was an army. A cold, ruthless army of Kronos's forces, the signature flag fluttering in the distance, the black and gold banner rippling with ominous certainty. They were coming, their march unbroken, and the enemy's victory was just a heartbeat away.

Judith took a deep breath, her body screaming for rest, but she couldn't stop now. She couldn't let this be the end — not while she still had the power to fight, though that power was fading faster than it could replenish.

She locked eyes with the Hyperborean Giant, her voice shaky but defiant. "Overgrown ice cube."

The giant's laugh echoed, a cruel sound. He raised his axe to strike again, and Judith braced herself, her muscles trembling, but then —

A sharp twang cut through the air, and an arrow collided with the giant's chest, making him stumble back.

Thalia.

Judith's heart lifted briefly as she saw the Huntress take her position at her side, but it quickly fell when she saw the way Thalia's legs wavered, her movements slower than usual.

She was hurt. Badly.

"Thalia!" Judith called, her voice desperate.

The daughter of Zeus barely nodded, her bow raised as she blocked another sheet of ice with a quick motion, but the impact snapped her bow in two and she dropped to one knee, panting heavily.

"Go get Percy," Judith told her, her words urgent. "Go!"

Thalia looked at her, eyes full of pain and reluctance, but she didn't argue. With a grunt, she pushed herself up, stumbling away from Judith and towards the doors of the Empire State Building.

Judith turned back to the giant, who was now advancing again, a wicked grin curling on his face. Her insides burned, her veins screaming with every movement, but she held her ground. The anger was becoming a threadbare thing, barely enough to sustain her as the fire in her blood began to sputter.

She was alone now. The battlefield around her was a mess of fallen comrades and icy ruins, and she was the last line of defense. If she fell, if she broke, there would be nothing left between them and Mount Olympus.

Between them and Percy.

The giant's smile stretched wider as he swung his axe, and she barely had time to sidestep, the blade glancing off her shoulder as it passed by. A fatal shot for a mortal.

Her eyes flicked to where Thalia had stumbled off, to the revolving doors of the Empire State Building.

The giant roared, swinging again, but this time Judith was ready. She raised her scimitars, slashing at the blade with all the fury she could muster. The sound of steel against steel rang out, deafening. For a moment, the giant faltered, giving her just enough of an opening to land a hit. But she didn't have the strength to finish him off, and he quickly recovered, throwing her back into the building with a swing of his massive fist.

Judith's vision blurred with the effort of getting up, the edges of her sight darkening, but she refused to let go. She couldn't. Not yet.

But then the ground shook, a rumble that was too big to ignore. From the corner of her eye, Judith saw a shadow. A centaur thundered into view, his bow raised high, and with a twang of the string, he let loose a powerful shot straight into the chest of the Hyperborean, taking the giant down with ease. The rest of the enemy seemed to falter for a moment, just enough to give Judith a brief respite.

Judith's eyes went wide with relief, her heart pounding in her chest. Chiron.

But just as she allowed herself a brief moment of hope, another sound broke through the air, one that froze her blood. The sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, crunching through the debris and the frost. She turned her head toward the source, her breath catching in her throat.

It was Luke — Kronos. His form towered above the battlefield, his scythe gleaming in the dim light of the war-torn street. His army was right behind him — Ethan Nakamura ( the bastard who took her out earlier ), the dracaena queen in her gleaming green armor, the two remaining Hyperboreans. The Titan's vanguard.

Judith's hands clenched around her blades, but the weight of the moment was suffocating. She couldn't hold them all off alone — especially not when Nakamura knew exactly where to hit to kill.

Kronos's cold eyes locked on hers, his expression unreadable, but his presence was enough to make her knees shake. She could feel his power, suffocating and immense, radiating from him like an oppressive storm. The only thing running through her head was the moment outside the labyrinth when he tore down her axe with little more than a swipe.

But even as Judith braced for what was surely the end, there was a movement from behind her — footsteps, fast and frantic. A familiar voice broke through the tension.

"Judith!" Percy's voice called out, and she whipped to the doors to see him running toward her, his expression frantic.

The sight of him sent a rush through her, the kind of sensation that could've been mistaken for relief if it weren't so much more. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, time seemed to slow — his presence cut through the flood of chaos like a beacon, pulling her out of the suffocating grip of the cold battlefield.

It was the fire.

It flared in her chest, deep and consuming, but this time it wasn't just anger. It was something darker, more primal, and sweet in its intensity — like the first taste of a storm. The flame twisted around her heart, burning brighter with each step he took. It made her feel alive again, reminded her of what it was like to fight with someone at her side, to be connected by something greater than the weight of her own rage.

She was falling into the flame, letting it consume her, but this time, it wasn't just her own fury feeding it.

It was him. It was Percy.

Judith's chest tightened as the warmth spread, but it didn't soothe her. No. This fire didn't heal, didn't make things better. It devoured. Her blood simmered under her skin, the heat prickling and pulsing with each beat of her heart, urging her to let go, to embrace it fully.

But she didn't. She couldn't. Not yet.

She could feel his power, too, like something ancient and raw flowing beneath his skin. He was her anchor, steadying her when the flames tried to pull her into the wild, but he was also the wind that fed the fire, pushing her further into the chaos, into the fury that would only burn brighter with him close. He was both balance and imbalance, her tether and her undoing.

The moment he reached her side, his arm wrapped around her tightly, pulling her close. It was only then that she realized she was shivering, a sharp tremor that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the hypothermia that she couldn't seem to shake.

She cursed herself for letting it get this far again. Deimos was probably cursing her from wherever he was, too.

He pulled her a step over to where Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia stood, their gazes locked on the standoff between Chiron and Kronos. Judith kept her eyes sharp, watching the Titan with wariness.

The Titan's voice echoed across the battlefield, dripping with disdain. "Step aside, little son."

Judith's grip on her sword tightened. The hatred between them was palpable, and she could feel it like a weight in the air.

"Chiron!" Annabeth called, her voice shrill with warning.

The dracaena queen didn't want to wait. She charged forward, quick as a flash, but Chiron's reflexes were just as fast. His arrow flew, and in a blink, the queen was vaporized, her armor clattering to the ground as her body disappeared in a puff of smoke. Judith couldn't help but exhale a breath of relief, but it was short-lived.

Chiron reached for another arrow, only to realize that his quiver was empty. He dropped the bow like it had offended him personally, drawing his sword instead. Judith's lips twisted. She didn't need to be a genius to know how much Chiron hated fighting with a sword. It wasn't his weapon. It never had been. Nor did it suit him.

Kronos's chuckle made her skin crawl as he stepped forward. Chiron's horse-half skittered nervously, his tail flicking back and forth. Not exactly the picture of courage.

"You're a teacher," Kronos sneered. "Not a hero."

Chiron's response was steady, unwavering. "Luke was a hero. He was a good one, until you corrupted him."

Judith felt a pang of something at Chiron's words. She understood the grief in his tone, the years of disappointment.

"FOOL!" Kronos's voice reverberated around the city. And Judith's heart nearly combusted at the wave of energy. "You filled his head with empty promises. You said the gods cared about me!"

"Me," Chiron noticed quietly. "You said me."

Judith blinked, watching the Titan's face twist in that fleeting moment of confusion. It was gone in a second, and Chiron struck — a well-executed feint followed by a strike to the face that should've landed perfectly. If Luke — Kronos weren't so quick, so skilled, it would have. Instead, the Titan knocked Chiron's blade aside with a sneer and bellowed, "BACK!"

Judith's breath caught as a blinding light exploded between them. Then came the sound — the sickening thud of Chiron being flung through the air, his body crashing into the side of a building next to them with enough force to shatter stone. The building buckled, debris raining down and burying him beneath a pile of rubble.

Annabeth wailed, a gut-wrenching sound that made Judith's chest tighten, and they all rushed forward, trying to clear the rubble, but it was futile. Chiron was buried under a pile of debris, and the laughter of Kronos's army echoed through the streets. Judith clenched her jaw, refusing to let the despair creep in. The Titan's laughter was like acid on her skin.

Annabeth, trembling with grief, turned on Luke, her face twisted with a fury Judith knew all too well. The girl's knife came out with a flash, and Judith stepped forward, eyes narrowing. She could already see the disastrous result.

"Annabeth, don't," Percy said, his voice tight with desperation. But Annabeth wasn't listening, not with the fury of losing Chiron consuming her.

Judith's eyes followed Annabeth's blade as it plunged toward Kronos's armor, only to bounce off with a hollow clang. She saw Annabeth stumble back, pain flashing across her face. The girl clutched her arm, and Judith could already sense the sharpness of the ache, the sickening snap of the blade's failure.

Before Judith could open her mouth, Kronos swung his scythe — too fast, too deadly. Annabeth barely managed to dodge, her shoulders heaving as she gasped for air. Percy reacted instinctively, yanking her to safety, his arms encircling her with urgency.

"I HATE you!" Annabeth screamed, her voice shrill with fury, and Judith could see it: the flicker of something — pain? Regret? — on Percy's face, but there was a glimmer of something similar in Luke — Kronos's face too. Something... almost wistful. The betrayal in those eyes was as sharp as any blade.

Percy grunted and gave Annabeth to her with a curt, "Take her." Judith's teeth ground together, but before she could protest, her arms were around Annabeth, pulling the girl close, locking her in place with an iron grip.

"I have to fight him," Percy said, looking at them both, solemn.

And Judith had half a mind to release Annabeth so that they could both throttle him.

It was just like him. The stupid hero in him.

She wanted to scream at him. I'm right here, Percy. I promised I'd be beside you, didn't I? But she knew — knew deep down — that it had to be him. He had the power. The connection to the prophecy. He was the one meant to face Kronos.

It was always him.

The words sat in her chest like lead. She wanted to protect him, to shield him from all the damage that came with being the one who had to fight this battle. But she couldn't. He wouldn't let her. And there was a brutal truth she couldn't deny: he had to do this alone.

Annabeth struggled in her arms, "It's my fight, too, Percy!"

"Annabeth, let it go," Judith muttered under her breath, her voice flat, though there was no malice in it. Annabeth, her arms still stiff with tension, fought against her hold, but Judith didn't release her.

Kronos chuckled darkly, cutting through the tension. "So much spirit. I can see why Luke wanted to spare you. Unfortunately, that won't be possible."

Judith could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up as the scythe lifted in Kronos's hand, the very air growing colder with his power. The seconds stretched like an eternity. But before Kronos could strike, a sound sliced through the air — a howl that sent chills down her spine.

"Arroooooooo!"

Judith's heart stopped for a fraction of a second. She nearly collapsed at the sound, her pulse quickening, throat tight. She knew that howl all too well.

"Mrs. O'Leary," she whispered, barely more than a breath. The words were dangerous, like invoking some kind of curse, but they escaped her lips all the same.

The enemy forces seemed to stir uneasily, like the ground itself had begun to quake beneath them. Judith's eyes narrowed as she watched the monsters part in a way that felt almost unnatural, a path clearing down the center of Fifth Avenue. It was as though something — or someone — was pushing them back, forcing them aside.

Judith's gaze followed the path, dread and relief battling within her. A familiar, monstrous shape emerged at the end of the street. Mrs. O'Leary, the hellhound, her massive frame moving with terrifying speed, her eyes wild with the thrill of the fight. But it wasn't just the dog.

The figure beside her was small, cloaked in black armor that shimmered in the dim light. And when he stepped forward, Judith felt her blood run cold and hot all at once.

Nico.

NOTES ;

guys, I'm doing it!

Two posts relatively back to back.

I am milking all of the writing motivation I have. I am putting all of the energy I've got into finishing this out.

Judith's story needs closure.

We see some more character development here. But most of this was just her figuring out her abilities. Plus, I couldn't help adding in Phobos and Deimos again. I love them (and I hate them)

Here's to hoping the next chapter comes out quickly! Because it's got Nico! And I love Nico! And I just want to have Nico and Judith happy with each other again.