Slipping between the gray roots, Cesare picked up his duffel bag. Still recovering from the prolonged change, Blaez set his forehead against the fence, flesh quivering in small waves as his body got used to being human again.

Cesare left the werewolf without a word of goodbye. Blaez was a big boy, he could manage on his own. Cesare's deliberate look sent his students scurrying to their places. He didn’t mind if they watched him train the werewolf, but that didn’t mean he'd put up with them skipping training.

Cesare noted the watchful eyes of the gladiators when he hit open ground. There was a new layer of tension winding through the fighters. Kids slowed, tracking him as he passed. It was waiting only for the spark to explode into flame, it would need to be broken soon our only blood would put it out.

Hitting the school doors, Cesare reveled in the sunlight, taking the stairs two at a time. The student body was out in force today, everyone wanting to take a piece of the day for themselves. Grouped together along benches and under trees, laughter competing for space in the air.

For most students, school was a place where they could find themselves. Away from home and the influence of parents, the kids had room to become who they were. Most of them didn't understand what Cesare was fighting for. They lived in that gray area of the majority. There was the weak and the strong, but most fell into the strange twilight of the in-between. They'd never had someone hunt them down the halls for a cheap thrill. They’d never drank from the poisoned well of sadism, taken in the gleeful dark pleasure and glutted themselves on the sickly sweet taste.

Cesare was chaos given form. They knew the fights he'd gotten into, the blood he'd spilled, and the people he'd destroyed. Anyone that got close to him was ripped apart, their lives sundered by forces of unrestrained violence. They didn’t know or care what the reason was. The silent majority were happy with the way things were, and they gave zero fucks for the kids butchered in the shadows.

It was fine. Cesare wasn’t fighting for them. He was fighting for the women. They were the reason he bled, schemed, and connived, to get the factions behind them. It was nice to help others, but if he had to create a mountain of corpses to make their dreams come true, he’d butcher innocents along with the guilty.

They might be monsters of flesh, but he was a nightmare of the soul. Ideals are pretty things but their watered in blood and grown from slaughtered meat. Justice birthed itself in the corpses of thousands who would never know its blessing. Hope was fashioned out of the lost and broken souls that it had abandoned. The greater the ideal, the higher the body count. Every nation was built on the backs of slaves, societies freedom bought by stripping freedom from others.

The world was born in pain and butchery; it was the lucky that never had to face the psychotic eyes of nature glaring back from the splayed remains of your dreams. But Cesare had never been lucky, he’d seen the world for what it was long ago. He was a monster, but even a monster had a choice who they’d kill for.

Taking the trail, his thoughts drifted away as he caught sight of the girls. They turned to him from opposite sides of the trail when he came in sight. Plans cascaded through his mind, pushing out other considerations. Tonight, he’d let them in on what would be the longest training program they’d gone through with him.

Smiling, he led them into Raven's Rest. Alexandra broke off once inside the sanctuary, heading to the dummies to wait while he got Anastasia settled. The white roots looked as pristine as they had that first day, lushly green, the cushion of close growing ground cover was a dream brought to life.

Sitting down, Anastasia looked a question up at him. “We’re starting a new program today.” Her attention sharpened at the words. “We’ve been working on your techniques and integrating them with your base skill. We'll keep working that angle, but we're adding a situational component.”

Squatting, he met her eyes. “The queens are fast, strong, and smart. No technique, no trick, no gimmicks will get you through this. These things are soldiers, trained to kill, and bred to be the strongest. It’s not about pride or honor, they’re coming to kill.” Cesare touched her heart with his fingertips while holding her eyes. “Only skill will win this. That means integrating everything you’ve learned into a style that works, not just in practice but tactically.”

Anastasia nodded slowly, eyes widening as the reality of the situation settled into her bones. This wasn’t like past fights; these guys would be both professional and unpredictable. She'd be dealing with something that would require her to think on her feet, not just follow instructions.

Seeing the fear boil in her eyes, Cesare kissed the top of her head, absurdly grateful that she didn’t pull away. Scarlet strands of still growing hair lifted to run caressing tendrils over his face, greedy with need, they ghosted across his skin. Her hair was still short, only now coming down to her ears.

Smiling, he backed away. “We’ll do this. Together.” She nodded, settling the earphones over the nubs of growing ears.

Cesare turned away from Anastasia as she fell into the mind scape he’d fashioned for her. Cesare had given careful thought to the words and tone she'd need to get her ready for the fight. She’d need the confidence to act decisively when all she had to go on was gut.

At the same time, he needed her to keep visualizing her movements, only when you saw it in the mind’s eye could you do it in the real world. She still went through the dry firing exercises every night, moving her hands into position with confident authority. The meditation wasn't only helping her reach the abyss of the Ebon Flame. His words walked her through every movement, breaking them down into pieces easily visualized, binding neuron to bone.

Cesare focused on the vampire waiting for him. With the announcement of the upcoming fights, they’d held off on sparring. Instead, she worked against the dummies with her wooden bokken. Facing off against the bamboo man, she held a wide stance, both blades extended out to her sides. It was a wide open posture, something most would say was insanity. But they couldn’t feel the lethal presence emanating from her, the pressure it placed on psyche. Almost animalistic, the stance made her far larger, seeming to fill the world with easy dominance.

She ruled the psychic landscape, destroying an opponent before she'd moved. Stepping forward, the bokken disappeared in a blur of brown. With a crack of tormented wood, her long bokken slammed into the shoulder, short one guarding her body. She worked around the bamboo man; each strike powerful enough to cut a man in half. Subtlety was lost in this art, force, speed, and infinite precision were the hallmarks of Niten Ichi Ryu.

A style honed through duels, crafted for war, it focused on powerful direct strikes that cut through armor. There was no room for delicacy, quick light strikes didn't penetrate armor. Niten Ichi Ryu was perfect for the Umbrae Lunae, armored by nature, strengthened by malevolent gods, anything less than a committed strike was an invitation to be butchered.

The bokken hammered into the bamboo man, shaking the dummy from roots to leaves. Each blow powered by her immense strength, with only technique keeping the bokken from exploding into splinters. There was no weaving dance, it was straight forward, unstoppable, brutal, and captivating in its inexorable power.

Usually she was already deep into practice by the time he left Anastasia. After only watching her for a few minutes, she turned to him with the bokken in her hands. There was something natural about her having a weapon in her hands. It was seeing a person in their destined place, as complete as a fish hitting water, disjointedness in mind and body made whole.

“I’m not stronger,” Alexandra said with a strange blend of accusation and broken hope.

Laughing, Cesare walked to the ring with her close behind. Slipping between the roots, he threw the words over his shoulder. “When you went after Abraxas, why didn’t you clench with him immediately?”

“Because Anastasia was angling for an attack. It made more sense to wait for her to hit him before I body checked the snake,” Alexandra said promptly, confusion plain in her voice.

“Once he threw you off, why didn’t you drop on him and continue the fight?” Cesare asked without explaining.

“Anastasia had a clear shot, if I’d fallen on him, I would have broken her line of sight,” Alexandra said with a slight frown marring her face.

“Anastasia's raw, she’s a rod of steel hot from the forge. Black and unfinished, she’s still in need of shaping, the hammer blows of combat breaking off bits of dross from the clean steel underneath. Every death match, training session, and fight, shapes her on a fundamental level. Day by day she’s becoming what she was meant to be, destiny transforming her potential into fact. But here and now, she’s still a bar of raw metal.” Cesare's eyes held the vampires.

“You're the most beautiful of blades. Shaped to perfection, gleaming with lethal beauty, perfect in every line. The fights you get into can’t shape you because you’re already beautiful beyond measure. All you need to learn is how to direct that power.” He let the words settle into her.

“A mind is deadly; muscle is meat. Months ago, you would have gone after Abraxas without thinking of the advantages of having Anastasia soften him up for you. Even when you were toe to toe with him, your mind was evaluating, calculating, taking in the world around you and keeping the greater objective in mind. What you’re learning is far more deadly than the skills I’m teaching Anastasia. People can see the power she wields, the strength she’s gaining. With you, it’s subtle, and far more lethal,” Cesare said, curious on how she’d take the words.

She watched him, a shy need filling her eyes with something he couldn’t place. “You’re the only one to ever say I was beautiful, to ever look at me as anything but a monster.” Swallowing, she held his eyes. “I’ve only feared two things in this world, God and you. And I think I understand God better.”

Cesare laughed. “I don’t try to be difficult.”

She answered his smile with a wry one of her own. “No, you just come by it naturally.”

Alexandra headed for the dummies with a new determination in her step. She didn’t realize it, but she'd reached a level far beyond where she'd been. Cesare was certain she was on the cusp of an epiphany. Recently when they’d sparred, he’d seen surges of strength, bursts of speed. Alexandra was just too close to the problem.