Training alone would never be enough.
Strength was useful. Skill with a blade was valuable. But wars—real wars—were not won by swords alone.
They were won by influence.
By alliances.
By control.
So I began building my network.
My position at Camp Half-Blood gave me the perfect starting point. The camp was filled with the children of gods, each cabin producing demigods with very different abilities.
Some had strength.
Some had speed.
Others had talents far more subtle.
Instead of simply training with them, I studied them.
Carefully.
Every cabin.
Every camper.
I observed their combat styles, their personalities, their weaknesses, their ambitions.
Then I approached the useful ones.
Not directly.
Subtly.
Encouragement during training. Strategic advice during games. Quiet conversations about teamwork and the importance of unity in the coming conflicts.
Charisma helped.
Manipulation helped even more.
I wasn't the greatest politician in existence—but my mind was far sharper than most twelve-year-olds, and decades of experience had taught me how people behaved.
What they wanted.
What they feared.
Soon enough, small groups began gravitating toward Roosevelt's side.
Children of minor gods.
Talented fighters from various cabins.
Strategists.
Scouts.
Archers.
Anyone with useful abilities.
At the center of that growing faction stood Franklin D. Roosevelt, son of Zeus.
And beside him…
Me.
While Roosevelt naturally drew followers through leadership, I quietly handled the organization behind the scenes.
Recruitment.
Coordination.
Strategy.
Capture the Flag games became our proving ground. Each victory strengthened our reputation across the camp.
But Camp Half-Blood was only one battlefield.
The real war would take place in the mortal world.
So I began preparing for that as well.
My snakes carried messages.
Thin white serpents slipped silently through forests and across long distances, eventually reaching the estate where my father still lived.
Each snake carried written instructions.
Orders.
Political strategy.
I had little emotional attachment to him. That had not changed.
But he was useful.
An educated man with connections in academic circles and access to influential individuals.
That made him the perfect tool.
Using my instructions, I had him begin moving slowly into politics.
Networking.
Funding campaigns.
Building relationships with local leaders.
The early stages of forming a political faction.
Even from this distance, I guided him.
One message at a time.
Of course, information was just as important as influence.
My snakes were very good at gathering information.
They slipped unnoticed through offices, homes, meeting halls—anywhere humans gathered.
They listened.
Watched.
Observed.
People rarely noticed a snake in the corner of a room.
Especially not in the countryside of the late 1920s.
Over time, those snakes returned with valuable information.
Secrets.
Hidden affairs.
Illegal deals.
Political corruption.
Blackmail material.
Plenty of it.
Whenever something useful surfaced, another snake carried the information back to my father.
Carefully.
Gradually.
With that leverage, his political influence began growing faster than it normally would.
Bribes.
Favors.
Quiet threats backed by secrets.
All tools of power.
Eventually, he would control a faction strong enough to influence national politics.
Which meant that when the coming war reshaped the world…
We would be ready.
Not just among demigods.
But among humans as well.
I sat beneath a tree near the edge of the camp, watching several demigods train in the distance. Roosevelt was among them, practicing lightning-based attacks inherited from Zeus.
My snakes moved quietly through the grass nearby.
One of them returned from a long journey, slithering up beside me.
Its tongue flicked before it released a small sealed message.
I opened it and read quickly.
My father's latest report.
Political alliances forming.
Several senators now under indirect influence.
Funding secured.
Progress.
Good.
I rolled the message closed again.
Then I smiled faintly.
"Excellent."
The demigods at Camp Half-Blood believed they were preparing for battles against monsters.
Some suspected the coming war between the children of the gods.
But very few of them understood the real truth.
Wars were fought on multiple fronts.
Divine.
Mortal.
Political.
And I intended to control all of them.
One careful move at a time.