The Day a Knight Answered the Duel
"Let me get this straight… how much did you actually figure out, brat?" Ares asked, as he suddenly pulled one of the shotguns that had been mounted on his motorcycle from behind his back. With a slight shake, like he was brushing dirt off it, it began to shift in his hand, changing shape into a massive greatsword, its blade catching the soft sunlight, glowing with a faint, almost sacred golden shine.
He stared at him.
"Aunt Mor told me a story. She said Hades and Zeus don't get along at all. It even sounds like Hades holds a grudge. The sacred items disappeared. The bolt. The helm. You wanted them to fight. But when Percy showed up, Zeus blamed him… and Poseidon too, shifting the plan… or more like, for you, making it even better. Now it wasn't just two of the Big Three… it was all three of them directly. And Percy being chosen to retrieve the master bolt only made it better for you. That's why you told Poseidon that Hades had the bolt. Percy would be sent there to get it back. And now again, you had the supposed thief carrying the stolen bolt straight into the Underworld, making the odds and coincidences line up even more. A plan that at first didn't seem like it would work… but then everything clicked. Suddenly… it turned into something even you didn't expect. Pure luck… and in the end, all you had to do was wait in the place we'd pass through, and plant the master bolt on us. And we, like idiots, walked right back into your hands. And you got to give us these backpacks, which probably have the master bolt inside, right? Everything that happened was ridiculous luck," Harry repeated.
Percy looked at his brother for a moment; even Annabeth and Grover seemed to realize something.
Meanwhile, with every word Harry spoke, Ares seemed to grow more and more furious, his eyes burning to the point that if his hair suddenly caught fire, it wouldn't even be surprising, while the air around them grew heavy… like a mountain pressing down on them.
"Finally… a plan good enough to outdo Athena… right? From the god of war… the same one she always looked down on, with a plan not even she could come up with. But still… everything that happened was just pure luck," Harry repeated, staring straight at Ares.
"It wasn't luck!" Ares roared, the air around him warping from sheer rage. "Everything was damn well planned! Do you think everything that happened was just coincidence? No! I knew every step that would happen. The theft of the helm, the theft of the bolt… and I was the one who moved them, waiting for the right moment. I knew the son of Poseidon would come. I knew the path he'd take because I knew the oracle would point him. That's why I stayed in that stupid town waiting for you. And when you showed up, all I had to do was play my part, which had been set from the very beginning. Even the meeting with Aphrodite and Hephaestus catching us was part of the plan. I had the bolt and the helm in my hands, waiting for the idiots who would do the work for me and carry them into the Underworld. Once there, Hades would believe the son of Poseidon stole his helm, enraging Poseidon," Ares roared as he pulled out Hades's helm and threw it to the ground in his outburst. "A war between the Big Three… do you have any idea of the scale of that war? The power I would gain… the chaos that would unfold… everything was meticulously planned," Ares roared. "None of this was luck. None of it!"
While Grover and Annabeth stood there, completely pale, their faces filled with shock as they heard the entire plan.
Harry and Percy, on the other hand, had faint smiles as they listened to Ares spill everything, falling right into Harry's trap, who had only thrown out guesses… but wrapped in words that struck at Ares's pride. Calling it all coincidence, all luck… that worked far better than he had expected.
But what Ares said left Harry slightly confused. He was saying everything had been part of a plan… but he wasn't saying it was his plan.
Ares, after letting his anger out, began to calm down as he realized he had revealed everything, yet at the same time, he didn't seem to care. To him, the brats standing in front of him were already dead.
"But… but they're your family," Annabeth shouted, shocked by everything she had just heard.
"Fights within family are the best… the bloodiest ones. I always enjoy watching that. Didn't I say that before?" he said, looking at Percy, who at some point had drawn his favorite sword, standing in guard, sensing just how dangerous Ares was. "How do you think I made those fanatics, those knights of old, go extinct… or almost? Seems that way. I made them turn on each other, surrounded by the flames of war, forced to fight for their lives to stop the madness that was consuming them. Hahaha," Ares laughed with disdain.
Hearing those words, both Harry and Percy frowned. For a moment, Mr. Vincent's face seemed to appear in their minds… along with those burn scars… and part of the story they had heard from the knights about an ancient battle where only three survived, the so-called Three Elders. What if that was what Ares was talking about?
"Seems like after I'm done with you… I should head back there and have some fun again," Ares added with a mocking tone.
"B-but the master bolt isn't in the backpack," Grover said, his face full of confusion.
"Aaah, of course it isn't. That's just a modified sheath so it returns on its own once you reach the Underworld. And if you die along the way, I don't lose anything. A bit of magical manipulation, as your kind would call it, right, brat?" he said, looking at Harry. "Want me to tell you a fun little story about your kind, huh, kid? About why you have to live hidden and under the watch of the camp's pony?" Ares added, clearly enjoying himself as he kept talking.
"No, thanks," Harry said flatly.
But that answer only seemed to amuse Ares more, leaving a mocking smile on his lips. "Your loss."
"You… this wasn't your plan, right?" Percy said right away, reaching the same conclusion as Harry, just from a different angle. "You were being manipulated by the thing in the pit, weren't you?" Percy asked.
And as if that hit his pride again, Ares seemed to flare up once more.
"I am the god of war! No one gives me orders! I don't have dreams!" Ares shouted, swinging his greatsword for a moment, carving a deep line into the sand.
There it was, Harry thought, finally realizing what had been missing before. Ares was just another piece on the board.
"Who said anything about dreams?" Percy shot back, looking at him with a hint of mockery.
At those words, Ares seemed shaken for a brief moment, before forcing his emotions back under control, calming himself.
"Let's get back to what matters, brats. You know too much, and I can't risk you running your mouths to Olympus or anyone else. I can't risk those busybodies on Olympus finding out; that would become… quite annoying. So, like I said before, I'll have to kill you. Nothing personal, of course," he said with a smile.
Hearing that, Harry quickly pulled out his wand, but before he could do anything, Percy raised his hand slightly, stopping him.
Harry looked at him, confused.
"Do you remember what Mr. Dorien said when he let himself be defeated by us?" Percy said quietly, his eyes serious as they met his brother's. And without waiting for Harry to answer, Percy turned back toward Ares.
Harry processed Percy's words quickly, but before he could fully grasp them, Percy raised his sword, pointing it straight at Ares, and shouted:
"I challenge you to a duel. And if you refuse… then I'll take that as you being a coward."
The air seemed to fall silent for a moment. Even Ares looked completely thrown off.
"What?" he said, staring at him.
Harry, Grover, and Annabeth all looked at Percy as well, and couldn't help but let out:
"What?"
Harry tried to process it, but his mind felt stuck. He even glanced at Annabeth and Grover, but they had the exact same expression.
"Or are you afraid of fighting… and losing to a mortal?" Percy added, his tone dripping with disdain.
"Hahahaha," Ares laughed, clearly entertained. "Lose to a mortal? Me? I wouldn't even need to use my full power to beat you, brat. You're not even close to being a match for me. You've still got a long way to go before you can even stand in front of me. Any other mortal would be more prepared than you to challenge me. Even those knights you're so proud of… I'd crush them easily," Ares said arrogantly.
"Oh, how wonderful to hear that. For a god to accept a battle with this old man before he begins to weaken with age… that alone would fill me with pride… even if I were to die right here," a voice suddenly echoed out of nowhere.
That made everyone turn. And the moment they saw him, both Harry and Percy froze in shock.
"Then… I shall accept that duel with all the honor of a knight… as the one who will fight in his place."
The figure walked forward across the sand, the sound of metal marking every step.
A full suit of armor. Imposing.
A massive suit of armor, gold with pale silver accents.
On his chest, a great dragon carved into it. Every part of it was flawless… the work of a master blacksmith, made for a legendary king.
Runes carved into every piece, glowing faintly under the dawn light.
the aura around him felt like a king's presence…
and even standing before the god of war, it didn't seem to bend.
Unlike what one would expect from a knight, he carried no sword.
Instead…
His metal gauntlets ended in spiked knuckles, sharp, gleaming with the same intensity as Riptide… as if forged from the same material.
And the wind, mixed with sand around him, seemed to shift slightly… as if responding to him, swirling gently around his fists.
"No way…" Percy said, eyes widening as his gaze landed on the familiar face beneath the armor. Harry went completely silent. Neither of them had expected him to be here.
The man stepped closer with a smile… but it was a violent smile, like a lion about to begin its hunt.
He stopped. Rolled his shoulders slightly… then his arms. For a moment, his knuckles seemed to stir faint spirals of air with that simple motion.
Ares watched him carefully, raising an eyebrow, especially at the scar.
"And who's that?" Annabeth asked, seeing the way both Harry and Percy were staring, clearly recognizing him.
"G-grandpa Vincent?!" they both blurted out at the same time, recognizing the man in armor; the same man who had insisted they call him grandfather.
Sir Vincent Cavendish; Guardian of the Veil. One of the three strongest elders in the entire order.