The Battle Begins

As people in the square started to panic, Atenzi tried to stay calm. He couldn't let fear mess up his new power.

"People of the Sovereign Lands!" he yelled, his voice cutting through the noise. "Go back to your homes! Get ready for battle! Everyone who can fight needs to go to the city armories right now!"

The crowd started to leave, looking scared but determined. Atenzi turned to his helpers, shouting orders quickly.

"Make the harbor stronger! Get people on the coastal defenses! I want every ship we have ready to sail in an hour!"

As his helpers rushed to obey, Atenzi strode back into the palace, his mind racing. He'd just gotten power, and now this. The timing was too perfect to be an accident. Had the Crimson Countess been waiting for this moment when they were weak?

In the war room, they quickly spread out maps of the Sovereign Lands and the surrounding waters. Atenzi studied them hard, very aware that he didn't know much about military strategy. He'd been a thinker in his old life, not a general.

"My lord," one of his advisors said nervously, "maybe we should think about running away. They say Báthory's forces are... monstrous."

Atenzi glared at the man. "Run away? And go where, exactly? No, we stand and fight. The time when humans cower before these so-called Harbingers ends now."

Even as he said it, Atenzi felt a bit doubtful. How could he possibly hope to fight off an invasion when he had no military experience and his people weren't prepared?

Just then, the doors to the war room burst open. A man walked in, looking every bit like a seasoned warrior. He had salt-and-pepper hair and a face weathered by sun and sea. His eyes sparkled with mischief and deadly determination.

Atenzi's breath caught. He knew that face from countless history books and legends. Sir Henry Morgan, the famous pirate turned governor, now one of the Luminaries of Providence.

Morgan looked around the room before fixing his eyes on Atenzi. A crooked grin spread across his face. "Well, lad, looks like you could use a hand."

For a moment, Atenzi couldn't speak. Then, pulling himself together, he stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Sir Henry Morgan, I guess? Your arrival is really lucky."

Morgan shook Atenzi's hand with a grip like iron. "Aye, that it is. Though I admit, I'm a bit lost. Last I remember, I was enjoying some good rum in Port Royal, and now..." He waved his hand vaguely. "Well, let's just say this isn't quite the afterlife I was expecting."

Atenzi's mind raced. This was his chance to get a powerful ally. "Sir Henry, you have no idea how honored I am to meet you. I've studied your adventures a lot. Your strategies against the Spanish fleet off Panama? Brilliant. And how you governed Jamaica? A masterclass in leadership."

Morgan's eyebrows shot up. "Well now, you're either a damn good liar or... No, you must be a damn good liar. I haven't even done half those things yet."

Atenzi allowed himself a small, knowing smile. "Let's just say I have... insight into possible futures. And in many of them, you're a legend."

"A legend, eh?" Morgan stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose I'd best live up to that reputation. Now, tell me about this fleet we're facing."

As Atenzi filled Morgan in on the situation, he could see the pirate's mind working, coming up with strategies and discarding them just as quickly.

"Vampires, you say?" Morgan mused. "Nasty business, that. But every enemy has a weakness. We just need to find it."

For the next hour, Atenzi and Morgan pored over maps and reports, coming up with a plan that seemed equal parts brilliant and crazy. As they worked, Atenzi felt growing admiration for the pirate. Here was a man who really understood war, who could turn even the worst situation to his advantage.

"It's risky," Atenzi said finally, studying their battle plan. "If it fails..."

Morgan clapped him on the shoulder. "Lad, if you're not willing to risk everything, you don't deserve to win anything. Now, let's go rally your troops. They'll need to understand their jobs perfectly for this to work."

As they went to talk to the assembled forces, Atenzi felt a surge of confidence. With Morgan at his side, maybe they stood a chance after all.

As the sun began to set, turning the waters an ominous red, Atenzi stood on the highest tower of the Sovereign Lands' defenses. Beside him, Morgan peered through a spyglass, looking grim.

"There," the pirate said, handing Atenzi the glass. "On the horizon. That's no natural fog rolling in."

Atenzi looked, and his blood ran cold. A huge, moving mass of mist was creeping across the water, going against the wind. And inside it, he could just make out the outlines of ships—hundreds of them.

"It's time," Morgan said, his voice tight with anticipation. "Are you ready, lad?"

Atenzi took a deep breath, feeling the weight of an entire nation's fate on his shoulders. "Ready or not, here they come. Let's hope this plan of ours works."

As the first eerie cries of Báthory's vampire hordes reached their ears, carried on an unnatural wind, Atenzi raised his hand. In the harbor below, crews stood ready, waiting for his signal.

This was it. The moment that would define his rule, that would determine the fate of humanity in this world. Everything depended on the next few minutes.

Atenzi's hand fell, and with it, their desperate gambit began. Flaming projectiles arced through the air, lighting up the twilight sky. But they weren't aimed at the approaching fleet. Instead, they struck the waters of the harbor itself.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a roar that shook the very foundations of the city, the sea erupted into flames.

Atenzi watched, heart pounding, as the inferno spread with unnatural speed. Morgan's crazy plan—to set fire to the oil-coated waters and create a barrier of flame—was working. But would it be enough?

As the vampire fleet hit the wall of flame, chaos erupted. Ships caught fire, their undead crews shrieking in terror and pain. But some were pushing through, their hulls burnt but intact.

"Now, lad!" Morgan shouted over the noise. "Use that silver tongue of yours! Rally your people!"

Atenzi stepped to the edge of the tower, taking a deep breath. As he prepared to unleash the full power of Lashon Kesef, he caught sight of something that made his blood run cold.

There, at the heart of the vampire armada, a ship larger than any he had ever seen was emerging from the mist. And on its deck stood a figure that radiated evil—Elizabeth Báthory herself, the Crimson Countess.

Their eyes met across the flaming waters, and in that moment, Atenzi knew that this battle was far from over. It had only just begun...