The scent of rust and scorched tar clung to the wind.
Lucas kept moving.
He crossed abandoned rail lines under a sky of bruised clouds, following no road in particular. The coin he used for divination rested in his palm, warm from repeated flips. He hadn't tossed it in hours. There was no point. Danger wasn't a question anymore. It was a constant.
Harold stayed nestled in the satchel. Alert now, ears twitching.
Lucas passed a collapsed tree and ducked into a clearing, here he could rest, if only for a few minutes.
He knelt and pressed his hand to the ground.
A whisper moved through the dirt: a spell to muffle sound. Another to bend the Mist and obscure his scent. He'd learned that even the cleverest monsters weren't immune to illusion. They just needed the right kind.
Just as he was about to sit down and relax, he felt the ground trembling. He released a sigh of exhaustion, already guessing whatever was causing the ground to tremble was either very large or in a large group. Hopefully it was the second. But with a flip of the coin he found his answer. It wasn't the second option.
Lucas rose slowly, taking his time and pulling out a bottle of water to sip from, he faces the direction the trembling originated from. It was getting closer, as the trembles came more often, and in greater strength.
He put away his drink and did some light stretches, he could hear its heavy breathing. It was not being subtle about its arrival, that's for sure.
It came crashing through the trees like a battering ram, hooves pounding, a mountain of thick hide and muscle.
A gigantic Sow.
It spotted Lucas and let out a roar, no slowing down, in-fact, it somehow sped up. Bulldozing all that was in its way, tearing up the ground in its charge.
Lucas blinked aside, reappearing ten feet to the left, leaving an illusion of him still standing in the sow's path. The beast struck the image, but it felt nothing causing it to roar in confusion. It drifted, carrying its momentum, and turned to see Lucas ten feet away from his original spot, while it didn't understand what exactly happened. It knew the demigod tricked it, its eyes turned red, filled with madness and rage, and continued its charge again, towards Lucas.
He ducked under its flank and slashed, drawing blood across its leg tendon. But it didn't affect the Sow, it didn't even slow down, it was barely a flesh wound to this huge beast.
Understanding his daggers would help, Lucas wove an illusion, creating the scene of the Hunters of Artemis appearing and challenging the beast. It seemed to work as the beast shrieked, crashing through phantom nets, ramming invisible threats.
Lucas attempted to take this opportunity to flee the scene, knowing fighting a huge monster like the Sow is possible but too tiring and not worth the effort, when he could just distract it and run.
But that didn't work.
He looked up.
A Cyclops.
They stood atop a ridge, its one yellow eye wide with glee. Chains wrapped around its arms like crude armor.
Lucas stared at the ridge, blinking once.
Then again.
Yep. More monsters.
More Cyclopes appeared behind the first. Three total; each one easily ten feet tall, their muscles straining beneath patchwork leather and steel. One carried a rusted anchor as a club. Another wore a belt of cracked helmets, trophies, by the look of it. The sound of their arrival having been shielded by the Sow's charge.
Smart.
"Oh? Going somewhere, demigod?" The first one bellowed, obviously the leader of the three.
Lucas rolled his eyes at the playground bully act.
His eyes shifted from them to the enraged sow, which had started pacing, confused and blood-maddened. It figured it was tricked again, but had yet to break free from the illusion, but it wouldn't take long.
He couldn't win this fight alone.
Not cleanly.
He reached down and loosened the satchel.
"Harold," he whispered.
A snort.
"We're calling in the big guns."
Another snort.
Lucas took out Harold, cradling him in his arms, the Cyclops stared in befuddlement, at what that little fluffy thing was meant to do, before Lucas turned and tossed Harold at the Sow.
The cyclops followed it, their confusion turning into amusement at what they saw, but that amusement quickly turned to horror as the little ball of fluff gradually morphed into a gigantic Drakon.
No longer guinea pig-sized, Harold stood ten feet tall at the shoulder, his scales sleek and dark emerald-scaled hide was like armor. His yellow eyes narrowed with joy as he stretched, curling his serpentine tail and dripping a few drops of saliva from its mouth, causing the ground to hiss and a small spike of smoke to rise from where the saliva fell. Obviously, it was acidic.
The Sow turned at the noise.
Harold hissed.
Then lunged.
The forest shook as the two monsters collided.
Harold's acid-laced breath clashed with the heat of the sow's madness, and in a blink of an eye they were rolling across the clearing, crashing into trees and tearing gouges into the ground.
Lucas didn't have time to watch.
The Cyclopes were descending the ridge.
He blinked behind a collapsed log, setting a handful of illusions along his path. The terrain distorted as he moved; copies of himself appearing in multiple directions. Running. Leaping. Some on fire. Some laughing.
One Cyclops roared, smashing straight through a fake, sending splinters flying.
Lucas kept moving, his hands forming fire between his fingers. He blinked again, teleporting behind the nearest Cyclops. He threw the fireball at its calf, it exploded, forcing the creature to drop to one knee.
Lucas lunged in, slashing with his curved dagger.
The blade cut deep, but not deep enough. The Cyclops backhanded blindly, knocking Lucas away like a doll.
He hit a tree and rolled, groaning. Lucas rose, standing and saw, two more Cyclopes were bearing down on him. One from the front, one from behind.
The one from the front swung his anchor, while the one behind swung his club. But instead of hitting Lucas, the swings went through him, hitting the other Cyclops. Lucas appeared from behind a tree, twisting the mist to make the cyclops see Lucas as the other. One of them brought its anchor down. Slamming it into the skull of its partner, who had swung his club and hit the knee of the anchor-Cyclops, causing it to release a cry of pain, kneeling in agony.
"Snap out of it you dolts" The leader screamed, having recovered from the wound Lucas had given it and made his way over to the fighting Cyclops. He slapped both of them on the back of the head.
Seeing them stop fighting each other all three looked around, finding Lucas crouching on a nearby tree branch, overlooking their group. The leader opened his mouth to taunt Lucas, when a throwing knife flew into the open mouth, piercing the back of his throat. That caused him to pause, when another two throwing knives skewered his eyes, the Cyclops falling into golden dust, leaving his chains behind.
Lucas stood, dropping down from the tree and landing on the ground. This caused both Cyclops to take a step-back, before the one with the anchor bellowed a war cry, hoping it would cover its humiliation, and it charged towards Lucas.
Lucas watched it, and when the Cyclops was bearing down upon him, he used his telekinesis to lift his throwing knife and send it into the weak spot behind it;s knee, stalling its charge and causing it to trip, right onto a patch of hidden wards that lit up and exploded, turning the cyclops to ash.
The last stood, barely upright, covered in ash.
Lucas gazed into it's eyes, attempting to read it's surface thoughts
"Who sent you?"
All he received was a scoff in reply, but the question did bring a name to the surface.
Kronos.
That was all he needed, Olympus was already unhappy with him and now Kronos is acting up.
Lucas raised his hand, pointing at the Cyclops.
And nothing.
"HAHAHA. It seems you have ran out of strength demigod. With my brothers dead, I no longer need to share this meal, for that I should thank y-"
Teeth bit down upon the Cyclops, a tongue swirled around him and pulled it down the Drakon's throat, devouring the Cyclops whole, the only thing remaining is its belt of helmets that fell upon the ground.
Lucas released the magic and illusions he had crafted, allowing Harold to re-appear. He turned, spotting a pile of golden dust and a rack of pork ribs, it seems the sow decided to leave behind a free meal as an apology.
Harold padded over and curled beside him, nudging Lucas with his head.
Lucas scratched behind his ear. "You did good."
Harold snorted.
They stayed there, catching their breath, surrounded by gold dust and the ruined earth.
Lucas collected the rack of ribs, placing them inside his satchel, the ribs shrinking until they fit inside. A small magical upgrade Lucas had added to Iris' gift.
He reached into it, finding some cookies before taking one and tossing it towards Harold, turning him back into a guinea-pig. After some fluffing, he placed Harold back inside the satchel too.
"Thanks for the help bud." receiving a snort from Harold.
Lucas let out an exhausted sigh.
He adjusted his pack, rolled his shoulders, and stepped out of the clearing.