CHAPTER FORTY THREE: THE LONG ROAD TO DESTINY (PART4)

"Monsters are not born in shadows; they are forged in the hearts of those who endure them." — Unknown

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The boy's words clung to Gravill like a shadow, heavy and unwelcome. The smirk on his face, sharp as a blade, lingered in Gravill's mind as they passed beneath the stone archway and stepped onto the sacred grounds where demigods honed their powers.

The training ground was vast — sprawling fields, stone arenas, and towering structures carved from ancient rock. In the distance, groups of trainees clashed with weapons that sparked with elemental energy, the sounds of combat echoing through the valley like a living heartbeat.

Nicholas led them through the camp, jaw tight and shoulders squared. Elsa stayed close to Gravill, her expression guarded, but the boy — the one who greeted them with venom in his voice — strolled along beside them like he belonged there.

"You didn't tell me your name," Gravill muttered, trying to keep his voice even.

The boy glanced at him, twirling his sword lazily. "That's because I don't care if you know it," he said. "But since you'll be seeing a lot of me, it's Ares. Fitting, huh?"

Gravill frowned. "You're... Ares' son?"

The boy grinned. "One of them. Not the favorite, but definitely the best." He pointed the tip of his sword at Gravill's chest without breaking stride. "And since your daddy and mine never got along, consider that tradition."

Gravill's fingers itched to summon his trident, but he clenched his fists instead, nails biting into his palms.

"Ignore him," Nicholas muttered, not even looking back. "He feeds on attention."

Ares only laughed. "You're no fun, Nick. Always playing babysitter."

But Nicholas didn't take the bait. He led them deeper into the camp, weaving through clusters of demigods who either sneered or whispered as they passed. Gravill kept his head down, but he felt every pair of eyes like a weight on his back.

Eventually, they reached a set of stone steps leading to a weathered building with towering pillars wrapped in vines. The air here was heavier, charged with something ancient. Nicholas stopped at the base of the steps, rubbing his neck.

"I was supposed to bring you to someone who can help... unlock whatever's in you," he said, glancing at Gravill. "But I just got summoned by one of the lower elders. Elsa, too."

Gravill's stomach twisted. "What? Why?"

Elsa frowned, looking equally confused. "I haven't done anything."

Nicholas muttered a curse. "It doesn't matter. We have to go." He turned to Ares, who was leaning against a pillar, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "You."

Ares raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"You take him to the Dokimasia. And if you mess with him before he gets there, I'll break your arm."

Ares smirked, pushing off the pillar. "Relax. I'll take good care of your pet."

Nicholas grabbed Gravill's shoulder, voice low and serious. "Just get through this," he said. "Whatever happens, don't let them break you."

Gravill nodded, though his heart hammered against his ribs.

And then Nicholas and Elsa were gone, disappearing down a separate path toward a distant set of towering spires. Gravill was left standing at the base of the building, alone except for Ares — who immediately clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go, fish boy," he said, steering Gravill up the steps. "Wouldn't want to keep the scary old man waiting."

The hallway inside was dim, lit only by flickering torches. The stone walls were carved with murals of battles — gods clashing in the skies, monsters rising from the depths of the sea. Ares whistled as they walked, the sound echoing like a taunt.

"So, how's it feel?" Ares asked, spinning his sword as he walked. "Knowing you're the most hated person here and you haven't even done anything yet?"

Gravill bit the inside of his cheek. "I don't care what they think."

Ares barked a laugh. "That's cute. You will." He twirled the blade faster, the metal singing through the air. "You know why they hate you, right?"

Gravill didn't answer.

Ares grinned. "Because you're not supposed to exist."

Gravill stopped walking. "What do you mean?"

Ares leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Gods aren't supposed to have kids with mortals anymore," he said, voice dripping with cruelty. "There are rules. Boundaries. Your dad broke them — and when gods break rules, mortals die." He tapped Gravill's chest with the flat of his blade. "Which means every single person here blames you for whatever they lost."

Gravill felt like he'd been punched.

Before he could respond, Ares shoved open a door at the end of the hallway. "Here we are," he said, gesturing inside. "Good luck."

Gravill stepped into the room, and the door slammed shut behind him.

The chamber was vast, with a circular platform at its center, surrounded by shallow pools of water. Symbols etched into the stone glowed faintly, casting shimmering reflections across the ceiling.

A man stood on the far side of the room. He wore simple robes, his hair silver and long, and his eyes...

His eyes were black. Entirely black.

Gravill froze.

"You are late," the man said, his voice echoing as if it came from the depths of the sea itself.

Gravill swallowed. "I... I didn't know I was expected."

The man tilted his head, the shadows shifting around him like living things. "You carry the mark of Poseidon," he said, eyes narrowing. "And you have no control over the power within you."

Gravill clenched his fists. "That's why I'm here."

The man stepped forward, each movement fluid as water. "Then let us begin."

The room darkened, the glowing symbols pulsing with light. The pools of water rippled, as if sensing Gravill's presence.

And he realized, with a sinking feeling, that whatever happened next...

He wouldn't walk out of this room the same.