The Art of War

Atenzi stood in the war room, eyes fixed on a model of Naaim. Báthory watched him from her seat, never looking away.

"Jesus will be our toughest enemy," Atenzi said, tracing the fallen Messiah's land. "But even gods bleed, even they have weak spots."

Báthory leaned in. "Oh? What weakness did you find?"

Atenzi smiled coldly. "When he healed Khan, I saw something. It was small, easy to miss."

He turned to Báthory, eyes shining. "A tiny bit of Jesus's fingertip died. Dead tissue on an immortal's hand."

Báthory's eyebrows shot up. "Dead tissue? How?"

"It's his power," Atenzi explained. "His miracles and healing come at a cost. He uses his own life force to do it."

He started pacing. "Every time he heals someone or works a miracle, it eats away at him. Slowly, but surely."

Báthory's eyes narrowed. "So the more he uses his power..."

"The more he destroys himself," Atenzi finished. "It's almost poetic. The savior, slowly dying for others, bit by bit."

He pointed to Jesus's stronghold on the map. "That's how we'll beat him."

Báthory smiled like a predator. "I'm listening."

Atenzi grinned, all teeth. "We'll use ninja tricks.

Stealth and trickery.

We won't fight Jesus directly. We'll target those around him. His angels, his followers."

He placed markers on the map. "Killings that look like accidents. Poisoned food. Broken equipment. We'll create endless injuries for Jesus to heal."

Báthory's eyes widened. "And each time he heals them..."

"He'll get closer to his own end," Atenzi nodded. "We'll make him use his power over and over until there's nothing left of him."

The room went quiet as they thought about this plan. It was cruel, clever, and without honor. It was perfect.

Báthory stood up and joined Atenzi. "It's brilliant," she purred. "But doesn't it bother you to use such tricks against someone who's already given so much?"

Atenzi's face darkened. "In his past life, Jesus died for humans sins.

Now, he's doing it again for his fallen angels."

He looked away. "He might be the kindest being in all of Naaim. Always giving of himself."

The room was silent except for the torch flames.

Then Atenzi's face hardened, his eyes blazing.

"But this is war, Báthory.

A war for Naaim's very soul.

We can't hold back.

Jesus's kindness, his willingness to die for others - these are good things, but they're also weaknesses. We must use them if we want to change this world."

Báthory nodded slowly, looking both impressed and worried by Atenzi's ruthlessness.

"Alright," she said at last. "We'll do your plan. But Atenzi..." She touched his arm gently. "Don't lose yourself in this war. Our path is dark enough without losing our souls completely."

Atenzi put his hand over hers, showing a rare soft side. "Don't worry, my queen. I know who I am. I'll do whatever it takes to make our vision real."

The moment passed, and Atenzi was all business again. "Now, we need to train our forces in these new tricks. The killers, especially, need to learn things they've never seen before."

Báthory nodded and headed for the door. "I'll call Vislav and the others. Meet us at the training grounds in an hour."

As she left, Atenzi looked back at the map, his mind racing with plans within plans.

The game was changing, becoming something Khaliq and Iblis never expected. And he, Atenzi, would see it through to the end.

An hour later, Atenzi stood before Bloodmire's best killers.

Vislav, the thin vampire with glowing eyes, watched him closely.

"Today," Atenzi began, "we learn tricks that will change how we fight in Naaim.

The ninja way, the ronin path - these aren't just fighting styles. They're whole new ways of thinking about war and sneaking."

He paced as he talked. "Forget what you know about fighting face-to-face.

From now on, you are shadows.

Whispers in the dark.

Death that comes unseen and unheard."

Quick as lightning, Atenzi pulled out a wooden sword. It stopped just short of Vislav's throat. The vampire killer hadn't even blinked.

"Speed," Atenzi said, lowering the sword. "Accuracy. These are your best weapons. But more than that, you must learn to read your enemies, to know what they'll do before they do it."

He stepped back and waved for Vislav to attack him.

The vampire hesitated, then lunged at Atenzi's heart.

What followed amazed the watching killers.

Atenzi moved like water, flowing around Vislav's attacks with godlike grace. He dodged every strike with tiny movements.

All the while, Atenzi kept talking. "Feel how your enemy moves. See the tightness in their muscles, the look in their eyes that shows what they'll do next. Your body must move before your mind knows why."

Suddenly, Atenzi switched from defense to attack.

Vislav struggled to keep up.

With a final flurry of strikes, Atenzi knocked Vislav's sword away. The vampire killer fell to his knees, Atenzi's sword at his throat again.

"And that," Atenzi said, barely out of breath, "is how you turn defense into attack. When your enemy reaches too far, you strike."

As Atenzi helped Vislav up, he felt strange.

His body seemed lighter, faster, more responsive than it should be. He could hear the vampires' hearts beating, smell the faint blood on their clothes.

He wondered at these new feelings for a moment. Then he shook it off, thinking it was just from the excitement of the fight.

"Now," he said to the group, "pair up. We'll start with basic forms, focusing on small movements and reading your partner's body."

As the killers practiced, Atenzi walked among them, fixing mistakes and showing moves. He knew Báthory was watching from the shadows, but he was too caught up in teaching to care.

Hours flew by in a blur of movement and instruction.

Atenzi found himself doing things he didn't think possible, moving faster and more precisely than ever before. He saw the awe in the killers' eyes, felt their growing respect.

As training ended, Atenzi spoke to the group one last time. "What you learned today is just the start. These tricks, perfected over centuries in another world, will give us an edge over our enemies.

But remember - a ninja or ronin's real strength isn't in their body, but in their mind.

Cleverness, adaptability, the will to do whatever it takes to win - these are what will make us triumph."

The killers bowed deeply, their eyes shining with new determination. As they left, Vislav came up to Atenzi.

"My lord," he said respectfully, "I've never seen anything like what you showed us today. It's... it's beyond anything I thought possible."

Atenzi patted his shoulder, smiling softly. "You did well, Vislav. All of you did. Keep practicing, and you'll surprise even yourselves."

As Vislav left, Báthory came out of the shadows, her face unreadable. "Impressive show, my champion. I don't think I've ever seen you move quite like that before."

Atenzi nodded, wiping sweat from his face. "I surprised myself, honestly. Must be all our training paying off."

Báthory's eyes narrowed a bit, but she said nothing.

Instead, she took his arm. "Come. You must be hungry after all that. Let's get you fed and rested. We have a lot to talk about for our plans going forward."

As they walked back to the castle, Atenzi was very aware of how close Báthory was, how she smelled, how cool her skin felt. He thought it was just his senses being sharp after the intense training, but part of him wondered if there was more to it.

Pushing the thought aside, he focused on what lay ahead.

The game was changing, and he needed to be at his best to make his plans work. Whatever these new feelings were, whatever changes he was going through, they would have to wait.