War's Champion (Percy Jackson Fanfiction)

Chapter Ten

I suppose you've been waiting long enough my lovely readers, so here it is. The next chapter!

Chapter Ten: Gods...How Did They Win So Many Dam Wars?!?!?!?!?!?!

Point of view: Perseus Jackson

Wooden bear mugs fly around everywhere, ale washes over the old fashioned fortress like room and all of its stone floor, voices gruff and shouting or conversing about tons of different things, all sorts of different army people, and there is a huge fight in the middle of the room with everyone else as the spectators.

What the Hades?

I walk through the crowd and people notice I am new. I head straight for the two imbeciles in a bout of drunken idiocy. I pull them apart and one lands a punch on my jaw. I move it around and it cracks back into place. Every soldier and servant in the room stares. But the two most flabbergasted people are the two dummies I just separated.

"Would someone mind explaining to me why these two idiots are fighting and why nobody attempted to stop them?" I voice my questions.

The guy who punched me clears his throat noisily in his drunken state and pats my shoulder. "You can take a hit can't ya mate." He chuckles watery.

I punch his jaw and he lands on his hind end five feet from me. "Aye, I can. Irish?"

I now get who all these people are. They are the soldiers who fought in all the different wars on Earth. American Civil War, World Wars One and Two, Irish Rebellion, Little Big Horn, and all of those.

They all laugh and the other fighter claps me on the back and hangs an arm over my shoulders. "So, Lord Ares finally got a Champion huh? Good on him. I guess we need to show you around. There are so many of us in this dimension that we are hard to keep track of. But we are just the memories of the wars we fought in. Our actual souls are down in the Underworld. Nice to meet ya kid. I'm Jimmy Two Bombs at yer service."

I nod. "Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon. Pleasure to make your acquaintance mister."

"I'd like to see you in action, but I bet you're more used to the fights of the Colliseum than anything. I doubt you use guns." A guy comes over.

"No, I don't use them. And you are right, I fight with a sword and a couple other weapons." I reply and he grins.

"Would you like to show us what you got? I believe Achilles's spirit is up for a challenge." The guy tells me.

"Would I." I grin widely.

"John Patricks at your service and yes, I am Irish." He cackles with glee.

They all lead me through several portals and when I step out of the last one, I feel like I am truly home. "I don't believe it..."

Rick Riordan owns PJO/HOO. I shall leave you hanging there my lovely readers!