Poseidon wasn't even himself at this point, he was fueled by nothing but rage, anger and his need for vengeance. Even though he couldn't admit it, there was a whole lot of regret masked up by his anger, the regret of not being there for his son growing up, the regret of not being able to hear his son's first words, not being able to to teach him how to hunt, or sail. Poseidon didn't know if killing Apollo and Hermès would make him feel better, but he really didn't care, all he wanted now was an outlet, a way he could just pour out all these unpleasant feelings he was having.
The god of the sea skillfully spun his trident in his hand before hurling it towards the blue eyed god, Hermès, who was attempting to pull Apollo out of the kraken's clutches. The golden trident deeply grazed Hermès' side when he attempted to move out of the way.
The messenger god grabbed his side and groaned loudly as ichor poured from his wound.
