(Percy's POV)
I woke up in a strange Norse-style temple, the atmosphere heavy with ancient energy. How did I know it was Norse? It just felt right, like I was connected to this place in some profound way. As I rose from the bed, I noticed that it was dawn, and the infirmary was filled with slumbering demigods.
My eyes wandered, searching for suitable clothing. A backpack caught my attention, and I carefully stored my knight's attire in it. Scanning the room, I found a white hoodie and a pair of jeans. An intriguing mask lay nearby, and as I donned the new attire, I discovered a hidden mask attached within the hood. My lips curled into a satisfied smile.
Checking the condition of my sword, I felt a sense of reassurance as I discovered it was as sharp as ever, thanks to the imbued Excalibur magic. A quick wipe of the blade on a nearby rag, and I was ready for action.
Mask on and hood pulled up, I removed my sword sheath from my pants and secured it comfortably on my back. I headed out of the infirmary, blending into the shadows like a phantom.
As I maneuvered through the temple, I observed other demigods coming and going, going about their daily business. I made my way to an exit, but there was a problem; a crowd of people stood there, and the sunlight left no shadows for me to hide.
Sighing softly, I prepared to make my move. With the countdown echoing in my head, I leaped into action. "3, 2, 1, GO," I whispered to myself. Running, I slid beneath the guards who tried to obstruct my path. They formed a wall, blocking the entrances, but I didn't let it deter me. With an eye roll, I leaped over them, landing gracefully on the other side.
I turned to face the bewildered guards and even shrugged while walking backward, challenging them. One of them, a young man crackling with lightning, finally advanced, brandishing a sword. I unsheathed my own blade, the golden veins on it glowing brighter than ever.
With a twirl of my sword, I exuded an air of confidence that made the lightning boy uneasy. He gestured for the other guards to circle me, but I analyzed the situation and prepared to face them. "Stand down," he ordered, his voice commanding.
I shook my head and assumed a battle stance. Without warning, I rushed the lightning-wielding guard. Leaping into the air, I brought my sword down with precision, his eyes widening as he barely blocked the strike. A deep breath, and my blade began to glow silver, a technique I had learned with the crusaders, channeling power into my blade. As a former head templar, my silver sword was a testament to my expertise.
I continued my assault, gracefully sidestepping one of the guards, causing him to stumble into the lightning kid. My eyes never betrayed any emotion as I faced the remaining guards.
Dual-wielding my swords, I shifted into a hybrid stance, which now included elements of Norse combat I'd studied. The guards took a step back in fear, analyzing my new fighting style. With an emotionless stare, I advanced, using storms to strike them, ice spears to drive them into the tempest, and water tendrils to trip them.
With a sigh, they all fell to the floor, defeated. I felt a sudden surge of strength and then weakness, causing me to gasp. Turning around, I found myself face to face with gods. I merged my swords and sheathed them, bowing respectfully.
One of them, who resembled Odin, spoke, "At ease, young one. What is your name?" I pointed to my throat, unable to speak, and Odin nodded, closing his eyes briefly. He then said, "I have bestowed upon you the gift of telepathy."
I conveyed my gratitude, saying, "Thank you. I have two names, actually. My birth name is Perseus, or rather Percy. But call me Percival. Percy brings up too many memories."
