Reincarnation in the PJO verse: Volume 1

『Diedre Fights And Stuff』

The swarm of monsters were visible from a mile back; Diedre could easily spot it with his eyes. The big, burly and smelt monsters were coming in hoards.

A rush of excitement ran through him, he had previously only envisioned the scene in his head, refusing to watch any adaptation of his favourite series being butchered by any directors, so even though his imagination was limited, watching it in front of his eyes was another different thing.

Sure, he could die, an afterthought added to his excitement, but watching one of the most epic battles and being one of the planners boosted his confidence levels. Even with the prior knowledge that his cabin mates weren't the best short-range fighters, he had never really thought they would be that bad.

So he laid down some traps right at the entrance of the bridge; anything he could salvage would make its way into the debris they had planted.

He overlooked the first swarm of monsters bombarded with the first range of explosive Molotov cocktails he had planted. Maybe paying attention in a chemistry lab was all that he needed in one life with the explosions that burst out. They gave no damage to the monsters that entered, so there was one secret material he had put in while preparing, some Greek fire.

He had considered all the volatility that the Greek fire possessed, preached by the Hephaestus Cabin when he went searching for it. Of course, he knew that mixing up two chemicals that would blow up at the slightest agitation was a bad idea, but he was made of bad ideas just like Patroculus was made of memories.

But some monsters made their way across the fire trap, along with the ones that Diedre could see perish right in front of his eyes. The one that Diedre could smell from the farthest away was the Minotaur. God, he hated that bull man. He was just unnecessarily big and had even more hair than your average bull. He stomped all the way, his hair singed, but his fury knew no bounds with all that he was showing. Of course, the Minotaur wasn't even the worst because behind him stood a hoard of dracaena, just waiting for the fires to go down. Some had even climbed the Minotaur to cross over.

He motioned for his siblings to shoot the arrows that they had nocked. There was a rail of fire from behind him, keeping it super simple and keeping the specialised arrows for later. His cabin mates were not close-range fighters — Diedre had always known that — but watching Beck miss his third arrow in a row while panicking about his quiver being out of color coordination was a whole new shade of despair.

"Beck, I swear on Apollo's sunburnt nose, just shoot something," Diedre muttered, teeth gritted as another dracaena hissed across the fire line.

The air stank of sulfur and singed flesh, and his traps were now nothing more than smoking craters. The Greek fire had done its job — mostly — but it was a blunt weapon. What came now needed precision.

The second wave was faster. Smarter. The kind that learned. Diedre hated learners.

He crouched beside the stone ledge overlooking the bridge, pulling a slender arrow from his stash — not the standard ones. These had been dipped in Stygian silver, enchanted with a dash of Hermes' quicksilver ink, the kind that burned through scales.

He inhaled, aimed, exhaled — and loosed.

One dracaena went down, screeching. Two more ducked behind the charred remains of a troll that had tripped one of the first tripwire mines. Smart. Smarter than he liked.

Beside him, Lee finally shouted, "They're flanking left!"

"Yeah," Diedre replied dryly, "I invited them. Told them the view's better on that side."

But his heart was beating too fast now — not from fear, no, fear had taken a backseat long ago — but from focus. That thick, sharp edge where adrenaline and tactical mania collided.