Percy's Priority
Atlas heard that and couldn't help curling his lips into a mocking smile, though he quickly hid it.
Percy barely caught it and stared at him, narrowing his eyes. But a moment later, he shifted his gaze back to Thalia, who was prepared to sacrifice herself like that. Even so, Percy couldn't really blame her. He himself had been willing to risk his life for his friends far too many times.
Still...
He seemed to be thinking seriously about something.
Luke, obvious sadness written across his face, lowered his head as though it hurt him to accept it before hardening his expression. Then he turned toward the back, where a group of dracaenae was carrying Kronos's golden sarcophagus, and gave them a signal.
One of them took a hand off the sarcophagus, which the dracaenae kept suspended above the ground at all times, and blew into a small flute that rang out like a war trumpet.
A heavy aura burst out from Kronos's coffin, and at the same time, the mist and the surrounding shadows seemed to begin stirring.
Then, all at once, pillars of darkness slowly started rising, accompanied by wails that seemed to come from deep inside them.
Simultaneously, the sound of countless footsteps and marching echoed from the mountainside as they drew closer.
An army of monsters came into view—dracaenae, empousai, Laestrygonians, demigods, hellhounds, harpies, and many other creatures.
Although...
At the same time, it felt like a large portion of them was missing.
Of course, they were far fewer than the army they'd seen last summer aboard the Princess Andromeda.
But Percy remembered that the massive ship had been destroyed during Thor's battle with the deity protecting it. And the absence of that ship, which should have been anchored along the shore, was impossible to miss.
Even Luke's expression looked annoyed for a moment.
So did Atlas's.
"Even though we lost a large portion of them, this will be more than enough to march into Camp Half-Blood, where we'll gather more comrades to rebuild our forces before advancing on Olympus itself," Luke explained, his voice colder this time.
"If I can't count on you... then so be it."
Luke finally accepted it, his tone sounding almost helpless, but at the same time he steeled himself.
And the sword pressed against Annabeth's neck became even firmer.
"If you don't bring the Ophiotaurus here right now..." Luke said as he looked off to one side, where, just like the pillars of darkness, what looked like a small lake had begun to form.
Yes.
A lake.
Right beside the mountain.
Large enough for Bessie to move around comfortably inside, though that was probably the last thing anyone had expected to see with the Ophiotaurus there.
"Fine. If that's how it is, then say goodbye to Annabeth," Luke finally said without another thought, without any more pleading, and without a shred of mercy, as though everything he'd said before had been nothing but lies.
As though he'd buried every bit of sincerity behind his pleas beneath a layer of cruelty.
Just like when Luke had tricked Annabeth into taking the weight of the world onto her shoulders.
But neither Thalia nor Percy answered.
Instead, the one who spoke was Grover.
Throughout all that time, he hadn't seemed to be looking at Luke at all. Instead, his nervous eyes kept darting behind Luke and Atlas while he bit his lip anxiously.
Until, at last, his expression changed into one of joy and hope.
"Now, Percy!" he shouted excitedly.
Luke looked at the satyr in confusion, unable to understand why he'd suddenly yelled, while Percy, standing beside Thalia, hadn't even moved and was still staring straight at him.
A faint smile spread across Percy's face.
And out of nowhere, the body that had been standing there the entire time began turning bluish, almost transparent.
As though it had become a ghost.
Luke felt overwhelming danger behind him.
As though the Grim Reaper's scythe were hanging over his neck.
He spun around instantly, raising his sword with superhuman reflexes and skill.
Just in time to see a black blade hurtling toward his throat.
He barely managed to block it.
Even so, the force behind the strike sent his body flying.
Standing there with a cold expression and his black sword in hand, just moments away from delivering a fatal blow to Luke...
...was Percy.
The real one.
His gaze was far more dangerous than before.
"Well, good thing you shouted, Grover. Otherwise I would've accidentally killed Luke," Percy said in a cold, dangerous voice.
Luke's eyes widened in shock, but he couldn't keep it for long because Percy's blow sent him flying straight toward Thalia.
She attacked immediately, forcing Luke to turn and defend himself, barely managing to stop the girl's spear.
But Percy didn't even spare them a glance.
Instead, his eyes focused on Annabeth, who was still gagged and had her hands tied behind her back. She looked at him with complete shock at seeing him appear there and, at the same time, with relief she couldn't possibly hide.
Percy looked at her for a moment.
Her clothes were still in tatters, and now a single white streak had appeared in her hair.
But seeing her safe brought every ounce of worry Percy had been holding back rushing to the surface.
And he pulled her into a hug with a gentle smile.
"I'm glad you're okay. I'm really glad," Percy said as he tightened the embrace.
Making Annabeth, still gagged and unable to say a word, turn completely red, probably trying to yell that this wasn't the time.
Or something like that.
All she could do was accept Percy's embrace.
From the way she was looking at him, Percy had a feeling that the moment he took the gag off, he was going to get yelled at, hugged...
...or probably both.