[Third Person Pov]

Annabeth turned toward Lucian and studied him carefully, her gray eyes narrowing as if she were weighing every word he’d just said. There was a distinct wariness in her expression, the kind that appeared whenever she suspected he wasn’t being entirely honest—or worse, when he was being too reasonable.

“Why are you being so… compliant?” she asked slowly. “Normally you’d ignore every warning I give you and do whatever you want, consequences be damned, with that usual confident attitude of yours.”

Lucian only laughed softly in response before lifting a hand and flicking her forehead.

“Ow—!” Annabeth yelped, immediately clapping a hand over the spot and glaring up at him.

“First of all,” Lucian said easily, completely unbothered by her glare, “I don’t outright ignore all of your warnings. I do listen to you.” He leaned in slightly, grin widening. “It’s just that sometimes I choose to ignore them.”

Annabeth stared at him flatly, entirely unimpressed, still rubbing her forehead as if debating whether or not to retaliate.

“And second of all,” Lucian continued, unfazed, “I’m confident—not stupid. I know when to pick my battles wisely.”

“No, you don’t,” she replied bluntly, without missing a beat.

Lucian chose to ignore that comment entirely as he went on, his tone shifting into something more serious. “I’m not about to fight a total of five gods in a public location. That would only lead to unnecessary collateral damage and innocent casualties.”

Annabeth didn’t respond right away. Instead, she simply continued staring at him, her mind catching on a single, unsettling detail. Nowhere in his explanation had he sounded uncertain. He hadn’t worried about whether he would win or lose—only about who might get caught in the aftermath. That realization made her sigh softly.

She hated herself a little for how annoyingly attractive she found his absolute self-confidence. It was one of the many things she loved about him.

“Not to mention,” Lucian added smoothly, stepping closer and pulling her into his arms, “I’m here on a date with you.” His voice dropped slightly as he met her gaze. “Fighting is the last thing on my mind. My main priority right now is you, Annabeth.”

Annabeth froze for half a second before heat rushed to her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his chest, trying—and failing—to hide her blush.

“You really know how to make a girl feel special,” she mumbled, her voice slightly muffled.

Then she pulled back just enough to glare up at him playfully, eyes sharp despite the warmth still lingering in her face. “And even though you say fighting is the last thing on your mind… it’s still on your mind.”

Lucian’s lips twitched as he gave a small, honest chuckle. “I won’t deny that.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head gently. “But you don’t have to worry about me. Today, I’m all yours.”

Annabeth immediately grabbed him by the chain at his neck and yanked him down to her level, her glare intense and possessive. “What do you mean for today?” she demanded. “You’re mine for life.”

Lucian bowed his head slightly, smirking with unmistakable charm. “How lucky for me, then.”

Annabeth scoffed, then leaned up to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Don’t you forget it.” She turned and started pulling him along. “Now come on. There’s more to this place than just the Rosetta Stone, after all.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lucian replied obediently, allowing himself to be dragged along without protest.

Just like with the other exhibits, Lucian’s attention soon began drifting—his gaze lingering on ancient artifacts as he searched for anything worth tracing, ready to use his Psychometry the moment something caught his interest.

As they passed relics of gods and pharaohs alike, Lucian discreetly reached out with his Psychometry, tracing fragments of the past through cracked stone, splintered wood, and sacred metal. Each artifact whispered echoes of power, devotion, and blood-soaked faith.

One fragment resonated more strongly than the rest, answering his touch with a surge of warm, stabilizing energy. Through fractured visions of temples and moonlit rituals, Lucian received the Staff of Isis, its abilities amplifying his magical output and reinforcing control rather than raw destruction.

Further along, a pair of ritual blades drew his attention—sleek, shadowed daggers once dedicated to Nephthys, goddess of mourning and guardianship. When Lucian traced them, he felt grief sharpened into resolve. These daggers carried the power to strike from concealment, cloaked in silence and shadow, their magic thriving in liminal spaces between life and death.

A broken polearm shaft followed, humming with barely restrained chaos. His Psychometry unveiled desert storms and roaring skies as he connected with the Halberd of Set, a weapon capable of summoning sandstorms and violent winds, embodying conflict, upheaval, and raw force of nature. Lucian felt its volatility immediately—powerful, but demanding discipline to wield.

Nearby, a pair of ceremonial Khopesh blades of Horus answered his touch. Unlike Set’s chaos, these weapons radiated righteous clarity. They were instruments of kingship and divine judgment, their magic reinforcing precision, aerial dominance, and the authority of a protector watching from above.

Lucian withdrew his senses carefully, grounding himself before the accumulated echoes could overwhelm him. To everyone, it likely looked as though he had simply been admiring the exhibits like any other visitor.

Lucian and Annabeth exited the exhibit side by side, the ambient echoes of the museum fading slightly as they stepped into the wider hall. Lucian immediately stretched his arms above his head, letting out a long, satisfied groan as his joints popped.

“Ahhh,” he sighed contentedly, rolling his shoulders. “That was so worth it. I barely did anything, and my strength practically increased exponentially.” He grinned to himself. “Honestly, what a great life I have.”

“I’m thrilled for you,” Annabeth replied flatly, not even bothering to hide her sarcasm as she rolled her eyes.

Lucian glanced over at her, amusement dancing in his expression. “What’s that? A little jealous that you’re not benefiting from this trip the way I am—even though you’re the history buff here?”

Annabeth shot him a sharp side-eye as they began climbing the steps toward the second floor. “I won’t deny that I’m a little envious,” she admitted. “But only a little.”

Lucian placed a fist against his chest dramatically. “My victory is your victory.”

“I’m so touched,” Annabeth said in a monotone voice, utterly unconvincing, as they made their way toward the Mesopotamian exhibit.

Lucian laughed softly before his tone shifted, becoming more sincere. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll benefit from this too. You’re smart enough to take advantage of any opportunity that presents itself—probably faster than I ever could.”

Annabeth let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. “Let’s hope you’re right,” she said, though there wasn’t much confidence behind it.

…

Screams erupted as people flooded out of the British Museum in a panicked rush, guards shouting incoherent orders as the entire building trembled and shook. Display cases rattled, stone groaned, and dust rained down from the ceiling.

Annabeth and Lucian stood shoulder to shoulder, bracing themselves as the air itself seemed to warp.

“You just had to read and correct the inscription out loud, didn’t you?!” Lucian shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos as he turned toward her in disbelief.

“Oh, bite me!” Annabeth snapped back, exasperation clear in her voice. “It was wrong! I was only trying to correct it! How was I supposed to know that fixing a mistranslation would summon a freaking demon?!”

She gestured sharply toward the towering entity now looming before them.

A booming, guttural laugh echoed throughout the hall.

“Ahahahaha!” the entity roared. “To think that after all these years… I would finally be freed!”

The creature stood tall and imposing, its massive form radiating ancient malice. Four identical horns crowned its head—two curving upward, two carving downward—framing a devilish face twisted into a triumphant grin.

“I,” it declared proudly, “am the Great Duke of Hell—Agares.” Its smile widened, revealing rows of razor-sharp, shark-like teeth. “And I thank you kindly for my release!”

Lucian’s eyes widened as he stared at the demon in horror.

“YOU SUMMONED A GREAT DUKE OF HELL?!” he screamed, his voice cracking as he spun toward Annabeth. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

“Stop yelling at me!” Annabeth yelled back, just as frantic. “It was an accident! And don’t act like you haven’t done worse!”

The demon continued laughing behind them as the museum trembled once more, ancient magic surging through the halls—an unmistakable sign that their date had gone catastrophically, demonically, off the rails.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep