The Path Of Glory (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)

90. The Last-Minute Guest Is Wicked

Y/N yanked her back as Kronos swung his scythe, slicing the air where she'd been standing.

She fought Y/N and screamed, "I HATE you!" He wasn't sure who she was talking to—Luke or Kronos. Tears streaked the dust on her face.

"You can't fight him," he told her.

Kronos laughed. "So much spirit. I can see why Luke wanted to spare you. Unfortunately, that won't be possible."

Kronos whirled his scythe, a flashy move, the sword blurring as it spun in his left hand, leaping to his right hand to make another blurred wheel in the air before settling, upright and rock steady before him, in both hands. He started forward confidently.

Raising his sword, Y/N moved to meet him. Only a trained eye would know that he wasn't simply walking. Only a trained eye would see that he was in perfect balance every heartbeat. Luke would've noticed; he'd been a remarkable swordsman, no doubt. Kronos might catch it, too—he was a Titan, a supreme being. It didn't matter. Y/N wasn't thinking about Luke or Kronos. His mind was empty. But he did intend to hold Kronos back for as long as he could.

Kronos wasted no time with maneuvering. The instant he was within range, he swung his scythe toward Y/N's neck like lightning. Without conscious thought, Y/N stepped sideways and forward, closing on the Titan. Kronos's eyes widened in surprise as his stroke missed Y/N's left thigh by inches, widened more as the golden blade touched his arm. Of course the Titan's skin stayed unscathed, but he'd probably intended to have Y/N's head with the first blow.

Kronos was so full of himself that he didn't take Y/N seriously. Y/N could move without any difficulty, without the air around him seeming to turn to jello. They circled each other, moving back and forth, parring, slicing, slashing without either of them hurting the other. Kronos was invulnerable; Y/N dodged and used his lion coat to protect himself.

How long they fought, Y/N couldn't have said. But suddenly, as Kronos raised his scythe, before he could strike, a dog's howl pierced the air somewhere behind the Titan's army. "Arroooooooo!"

It was too much to hope for, but Y/N couldn't help thinking, Mrs. O'Leary?

The enemy forces stirred uneasily. Then the strangest thing happened. They began to part, clearing a path through the street as if something behind them was forcing them to.

Soon there was a free aisle down the center of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block were the giant dog and a small figure in black armor.

"Nico?" Y/N called.

"ROWWF!" Mrs. O'Leary bounded toward him, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. Nico strode forward. The enemy army fell back before him as if he radiated death—which of course he did.

Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, he smiled. "Got your message," he told Y/N. "Is it too late to join the party?"

"Son of Hades." Kronos spit on the ground. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"

"Your death," Nico said, "would be great for me."

"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."

Nico drew his sword—three feet of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare. "I don't agree."

The ground rumbled. Cracks appeared in the road, the sidewalks, the sides of the building. Skeletal hands grasped the air as the dead clawed their way into the world of the living. There were thousands of them, and as they emerged, the Titan's monsters got jumpy and started to back up.