Deadliest Fiction Wiki

The first priority to the ninja is to win without fighting.
— Masaaki Hatsumi

Ninja, or shinobi, were covert agents and mercenaries in feudal Japan. They were used as spies, assassins, and bodyguards. Ninja are known for practising a form of martial arts called ninjutsu which covered various martial arts and covert operations techniques.

Early records of the ninja are rare as most ninja were recruited from the peasantry, which Japanese historians had little interest in, and were trained to keep as much information about themselves secret. The first known use of ninja in warfare occurred during the Genpei War, during which Minamoto no Yoshitsune chose a few warriors to be his stealth operatives.

Because of the unrest during the Sengoku period, the demand for experts in unconventional warfare rose, leading to spies being professionally trained as ninja and the formation of various ninja clans. Ninja would be frequently hired by daimyo until Oda Nobunaga wiped the ninja clans out, forcing the survivors to hide out in the mountains. Some ended up joining Tokugawa Ieyasu and would act as his bodyguards.

The last known use of ninja in warfare was during the Shimabara Rebellion, where ninja of the Kōga clan were recruited by Tokugawa Iemitsu to suppress the Christian rebels led by Amakusa Shirō. Afterwards, Japan entered a period of peace, and the need for spies declined. Some ninja continued to operate as bodyguards or acted as fire patrol. Others used their skills to find a new occupation in civilian life, while the less fortunate resorted to banditry. Eventually, even the bodyguard ninja were phased out, ending their long history.

Battle vs. Harii Warrior (by Swg66)[]

A lone Ninja is running thru a German forest in the dead of night, he's on a mission. The for has rolled in and he's not sure where he is. He stops for a moment to get his bearings, then he hears a snapping twig. He draws his Wakizahi and three shurikan. He can barly see but he is listening intentilly. He hears somthing whisteling thru the air, and moves to barly avoid a large Dart. He can onyl guess where it came from, but throw a Shurikan at the direction he thinks it came from.

The Ghost warrior can't see his opponent but can see the shine of his blade. His dart has missed, so he takes up his spear. Throwing a rock past the Ninja's location, behind him. The Ninja throws another Shurikan, turining to where he thinks the unknown target is. With his back turned the Ghost runs at him spear held up over his head.

The Ninja quickly realizes he's be tricked and turns to see a giant shadow. He ducks and rolls out of the way. The slahes at the shadow, but hit's somthing hard he can't cut. He can't see it but he's only hit the Ghost sheild. Deciding on a different approch he jumps back, sheathing his sword.

The Germanic Ghost can no longer see the shine of his opponents sword and can only make out a vage shadow dissapeaing into the woods. He gives chase in the general dirrection he saw the shaown dissapear to.

The Ninja has now changed tatics to using his kusarigama. Swinging the chain, making it whistle. The Ghost can hear the chian but can barly make out it out. The Ninja swings the ball at the shadowy figure in front of him, hitting the same hard target. Deciding to try hitting him on the other side he switch the direction of his swing. As he gets the rotation up again, but the chian is caught on somthing, looking up he see's the dark warrior has thrown his spear tangeling the chain.

Having stopped the bizzare weapon, the Ghost warrior draws his club and charges. The Ninja rolls out of the way of the large club. The Ninja pulls out his Black egg. As the Giant charges again he crushes it and throws it at where he thinks his face is. It works, at least partilly. The dark darkness has thrown his aim off, he' hit the German in the left eye only. But it enought to get him to drop his club to try and rub the glass out of his eye, yelling in pain. It only makins it worse, while the Ninja rushes off to get behind him.

With only one eye working, the dark nature of his club means he's unable to locate it. Deciding to draw his last weapon, his Germanic long sword. Looking around he see's the shine of the Ninja's sword again. He deflect the first strike with his own sword, the Second the his sheild and kicks the Ninja to the ground. Rolling to his feet the Ninja goes for another strike. But his sword get stuck with the strike, wedge into the the Ghost warriors sheild.

The Ghost pulls the sheild aside and swings his long sword with all his strength, taking the Ninja's head off with one strike.

The Ghost drops his sheild, and kicks the Ninja body over. Walking over tot he severed head he picks it up and rasies it over his head shouting a laoud victory cry.

WINNER: Ghost Warrior.

Expert's Opinion[]

The experts believed that the Ghost Warriors won due to being trained for longer, and having generally more lethal weapons.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

Battle vs. Assassin Brotherhood (by Wassboss)[]

Assassins: WhiteWhiteWhiteWhiteWhite

Ninja: Black2Black2Black2Black2Black2

The panel slides off the roof and a cloaked figure drops into the hallway, dropping into a crouch as they touch the ground. They glance across the narrow space and beckons with their left hand as they walk down the hallway, with more figures dropping out of the panel. The last one out readjusts the panel to look as though it has not been disturbed before joining the rest at the end of the hallway. The lead assassin carefully pushes open the wooden door, his hand resting on the edge ready to stop if it makes any noise. Once the door has been opened the rest of the men slither into the room, a large open room with dark outline of furniture visible in the glow of the moon. The group continues further into the room, stopping in the centre to gain their bearings as their eyes adjust to the darkness.

“The target is sleeping in one of the rooms through the next corridor. We don’t know which one it is but there’s only five so we’ll each take one room. If the target isn't there then you are to return to the corridor and wait for further instructions.”

The other four assassins nod their heads in agreement. They turn towards the corridor but as the leader takes a step forward he feels a sharp pain in his left hand wrist. He feels his way down his arm with his other hand, stopping when he feels a jagged piece of metal. He pulls it free and glances down, noting the star shaping. His ears prick at the sound of faint footprints and he looks to his right just in time to notice a figure loom up in front of him, arms raised. He turns on his feet instantly, raising his hand and activating the hidden blade which springs out to block the blade heading right for his neck. The rest of the assassins springs into action as two other figures leap out from where they are hidden. One draws a pair of knives and throws them at the nearest figure, striking him in the neck and chest and he falls to the floor gargling on his own blood. Black2

This unfortunately leaves the assassin wide open to attack and the other Ninja stabs him in the chest with his Wakizashi. White

He is quickly met by another assassin, sabre drawn and the two begin to trade strikes. Another assassin goes to help him but the leader protests. “You two go through the corridor and search the rooms we’ll handle this.” The two free men don’t have to be told twice and bolt towards door on the opposite side of the room. The first one through immediately checks through the first door while the second heads to the end of the corridor to check the furthest room. As he does he hears the unmistakable sound of the door adjacent being opened and quickly darts into the nearest room, the door of which is slightly ajar. He comes face to face with a woman, who is stood by the side of a small wooden bed dressed in tattered clothes, probably a servant. Her eyes widen and her mouth opens to scream but the Assassin presses his hidden blade into her throat, putting his free hand over her mouth.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you” he says softly and he feels her tremble under his grip. “Just stay quiet and I’ll let you free.” The woman nods her head slowly and the assassin removes his hand tentatively. He lowers the blade from her neck and holds his hand out to make her stop, tip-toeing over to the door and pressing himself against it to hear what is on the other side. He is so concentrated on his task that he doesn't notice the woman approaching until she is almost upon him and as he turns to face her, he feels the cold sharp grip of steel puncture his chest right under the heart. He looks into straight into the woman’s face which has gone from blind terror to a blank fury. She slides the Tanto from side to side to do make sure and the assassin drops to the ground once she removes the knife. She steps over his lifeless body and steps out into the corridor, Tanto clutched tightly. White

Meanwhile back in the initial room the assassins and ninjas are still locked in combat. The leader is under constant attack from his adversary and is being forced further and further back as he desperately tries to fend off his attacks. The other assassin is faring much better though with his longer blade making it hard for the ninja to get close enough to threaten him. He continues patiently until the ninja makes a mistake, leaving him open for the assassin to dart in and slice off his sword hand. He then follows up by whipping his sword across his throat before the ninja can even cry out. Black2

He quickly rushes over to help his fellow assassin and times his strike just as the Ninja readies himself for another attack. The ninja notices the new threat and with blinding speed just about manages to manoeuvre his sword to block the sabre’s slash but his Wakizashi shatters on the impact. Cursing to himself he takes out his Kusarigama and dodges away from another sword swipe, unravelling the chain as he does. The leader assassin also draws his Sabre and joins the other assassin as the ninja frantically backs away. The leader makes the first move and lunges at him with his sword outstretched but the Ninja uses the chain to hook his leg and bring him to the ground with a sharp tug. The other assassin leaps to his leader’s aid but the Ninja whips the sickle around to force him to duck down and then steps forward to kick him in the chest to send him sprawling. He then thrusts the sickle downwards into the dazed assassins head. White

The leader assassin scrambles to his feet and readies his sword as the ninja swings the chain around. The stand-off continues for several moments with neither wanting to make the first move until the ninja steps forward and launches the ball end with the assassin raising his sword to block it. The ball and chain snares the sword and with a sharp tug the ninja wrenches it out of his opponents hands. He then grasps the sickle by the handle and lunges for the assassin who avoids the attack and rests his hand on the handle of his War Hammer, which is tucked under his cloak. He takes out a throwing knife and throws it at the ninja, striking him on the shoulder and making him flinch and the draws his war hammer, caving the ninja’s head in all in one fluid movement.Black2

Back in the corridor the other remaining assassin exits the third room he’s searched and there’s still no sign of the diplomat. He notices a forth door is ajar and as he peeks through, seeing the dead body of his fellow assassin. He hears the patter of footsteps and he turns to see a woman walking towards him, her face streamed with tears. “Stay Back” the assassin says but the woman continues, mumbling something unintelligible behind the crying. “It’s okay I won’t hurt you, just stop where you are,” he continues as she approaches and at the last second he notices the shimmering of a blade. He grabs her arm and she tries to bring the knife down on his chest and knocks her to the ground with a kick. She scrambles backwards in a crawl and takes out a handful of Shurikens and sends them whirling into his chest. He grunts and brushes them away as she grabs the Tanto from where it had fallen and throws herself into him. As they struggle she manages to get on top and, gripping it with both hands, pushes the knife down as the assassin tries to hold her back. Her strength surprises him however and the knife edges closer and close to his chest. Just as he thinks he can’t hold her off any longer her head detaches from her body and rolls away.Black2

The assassin pushes the ninja’s corpse off from on top of him and gets to his feet, as the leader wipes the blood off of his sword. “You came just in the nick of time” he says and he swears he sees a flicker of a smile on the leader assassins face before it hardens.

“Did you find him?” he asks.

“I checked the first three rooms and found nothing. Matteo went into the last room but-.” He pauses for a second. “But he’s dead.”

The Leader dips his head slightly in respect for his fallen comrade. “That leaves only this one” he says indicating the fourth door along. The two men sneak over to the door and open it gently. The inside is lit by a candle and there is a figure lying in the double bed in the centre of the room, the breathing indicating that whoever it is is deep in sleep. The leader assassin nods to the other assassin and he enters the room, his hidden blade sliding out from under his sleeve. He walks over to the bed and ducks down next to the figure, placing his hand on their shoulder to pull them to face him. As he does the figure whips around suddenly and plunges a Tanto into his eye.White

The figure then throws the sheets off of himself and in the direction of the leader assassin, blocking his view while the ninja gets out his Wakizashi. He then closes the distance between the two and thrusts his sword right at the assassins chest but he deflects it expertly and follows up with a slash of his own, which the ninja does well to avoid. The continue on in this fashion for several minutes before the ninja manages to gash the Assassins arm, giving him the distraction he needs to kick the sword out of his hands. Thinking his opponent is now unarmed he tries to stab him but the assassin sidesteps the attack and places his foot on the wall, using it as a solid surface to push himself into the air. As he does he unsheathes his hidden blade and tries to stab him with the hidden blade but in his haste he has forgotten the Ninja is still holding his own blade. Angling the sword upwards he impales the assassin through the chest, throwing his lifeless body to the side. White

"You can come out now master" the Ninja says and a tall but skinny man comes crawling out from underneath the bed, sweat dripping down his face from fear. "It's a good thing you had that premonition of danger otherwise things could've ended much worse."

"I know," the Templar says. "The dream I had ended with me being killed by these assassins. In fact it was eerily similar right up until that last killing blow, almost as if somebody was writing a story but changed their mind on how it ended."

"Well with the assassins dealt with master, I'll leave you to your sleep." The Ninja leaves his bemused master to his ramblings, hopefully next time he'll be assigned to somebody who isn't a complete lunatic raving about dreams he had.

Winner: Ninja

Expert's Opinion[]

Ninja's won because they like to disguise as civilians and Assassins won't kill civilians. That's it.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

Battle vs. Order of Assassins and Sicarius (by Killermoves)[]

This warrior won an Ancient Battle of the Year Award


The sun rose, its golden radiance covering a settlement somewhere along the silk road. Even in the punishing heat, people from all around the globe, gathered and congregated, bringing with them produce to trade and sell. Different languages from both the East and the West, like Latin, Greek, Chinese, and Mongolian, filled the streets and marketplaces. Combined with the various colorful costumes these people wore, from tunics, skirts, pantaloons, and turbans, the place became a united multicultural nation. A simmering stew pot of unique flavors mixed haphazardly, creating a chaotic yet highly savorous taste.

Inside an adobe inn, a lone man wearing a steppe dress and yak fur hat, prayed. He knelt down on a rug and bowed, his head and arms facing the ground. In full submission to the Lord, of the mission he would undertake, he prayed for strength, he prayed for success. He stuttered as he prayed, as dread spread throughout his soul, torturing his mind and body. He was now a mere ember flicking on a wick, not knowing if he would continue to burn or be extinguished. This was his life right now, the fate he chose, which he surrendered to Allah many years ago.

He was a hashashin tasked to commit a great assassination of a foreigner. He knew little yet on how he would be able to commit the grand murder. But he was there nonetheless, no questions asked; he already had with him his long poisoned jambiya. Even as he trembled upon the great challenge, he reassured himself that Allah lived in him. That Allah would guide him. And that Allah would support only the bold and the righteous. Their enemies spread lies about them using hashish and other black magic for their missions. But he only needed Allah and Allah alone.

Near another building three streets away, a buddhist monk wearing a straw hat and exotic blue robes, stood and hummed. On his staff were small bells that rang whenever he shook it, ringing and chiming as passer-bys went. He would ask for donations from the kindly and compassionate. There’s money to be made if he could catch their attention. But the man was not there to just earn some alms. It was all a cover to remain inconspicuous. No one would want to hurt a poor hungry monk, even if that monk was secretly a ninja tasked to kill one poor sap.

The ninja was far from home, in a barbaric world with alien food and customs. The arid environment was something to get used to, not to mention the acrid smell of foreign sweat and spices. Yet, he had no choice for he was sent there by his daimyo. And though he too didn’t know how, he had to do it, in order to earn his rice and keep. If he succeeded, hopefully he’d get fief or be a vassal. Who knew? Maybe he’d be more; far far more than that.

A block away in a plaza where people came to rest and chatter, a devious man wearing a tunic and a large cloak, scanned and observed. He would smile and chuckle at these little parasites walking about, enjoying their lives and wasting coins, ignorant of the people outside starving and dying. He came from a land far away, opressed worse than an old abused farm horse. They were conquered by Sammael’s vermins, who came out of the Mediterranian, parading themselves in armor. These foreigners, who called themselves Romans, brought nothing but grief, suffering, and death. But their occupation and oppression would not last long anymore. His mission today would hopefully free them from their tyranny.

The land he was in belonged to a mighty empire, as powerful and large as Roma. And they had the richness and technology that could potentially destroy that seat of evil. All he had to do right now was to incite chaos in this meek community, belonging to one powerful member of this empire’s oligarch. He brought with him Roman sica knives and garments, to make it look like the latter had declared war and drew first blood. Hopefully, a large war between the two would begin, and hopefully it would end in Rome’s destruction.

However, intelligence from his people told him that there were some who would try to stop him. Not Romans, but a bunch of foreigners who were anxious that a war between the Italians and the Chinese would be so great, that it would spill and cause death to their lands as well. Scholars, wise men, and even oracles and prophets, spoke of such a world war that would be far worse that any war that was ever seen. A conflict so massive, its shadows of death would engulf the world, leaving millions dead, with decadence soon to follow. Hence why many would want it stopped.

They could try. But they’d have to find and kill him first. The man, a sicarius from Judah, was ready for anyone who would try to stop him. Anyone who would try to destroy their plans. Anyone who would attempt to destroy their dreams of freedom.


It was late afternoon, probably only an hour before evening. A time where the streets were most busy with people who had finished their jobs, now going about buying dinner or heading home. The sicarius was still in the plaza, excitement flowing all over him as he witnessed the number of people increase and bloat. Hours watching the area gave him the knowledge of the best places to strike, as well as the best places to slip away. With darkness coming soon, getting away would be less difficult.

It was now or never. He must not waste the adrenaline and zealotism running strong in his veins. He made a deep inhale before heading out into the crowd.

As he went, the ninja watched from a far. He had already located his quarry a few hours ago with the information given to him and those he gathered himself. But he continued to wait and procrastinate. He was unsure of what he could and should do. This was different from how he usually did things. While he had his wakizashi strapped to his waist, his fingers softly touching its grip, he had not committed this kind of murder in such a circumstance before. The idea of diving into a throng of barbarians made one who was accustomed to isolationism sick. The ninja himself could feel the pressure puncturing his heart and making it bleed. Still not knowing what to do, he decided to stand down and think more of this through.

From another corner of the plaza, sitting on a bench together with a couple of strangers, the hashashins too kept track of the two. Those fools were smack-dabbed into the point of no return, dangling on a cliff that led nowhere but certain death. One was ready to dive head first, while the other wept as if life itself planned to drop him against his will. Still, it was sort of entertaining, in a dark and twisted way, watching them attempt to perform this play. The hashashin knew his part as well. It was now a matter of patience how he would conduct it to get the most applause.

There was a cry, followed by another and another. Soon, cries from a thousand languages echoed in the air, followed by great thrashing and stampeding feet. The sicarius pulled his sica away from a Chinese elder’s chest, and the man fell where the others laid. On the dusty ground were a great pool of blood. Besides the old man, was a young boy whose neck was slit, a young girl weeping as her face was sliced in two, and a pregnant woman clutching her left side in pain.

With his deed done, the sicarius raised his arms and yelled the most Roman thing he could think of. “Sic semper tyrannis!” he yelled before dropping his blade and running away into the alleyways. He would further strip himself of his garments, wiping the blood off of him as well, until he only wore a simple one-piece tunic. He ran a further distance away before finding the nearest crowd to hide and blend in.

The night would then be filled with fear, as news of the terroristic act further spread, and the settlement became beset by roving armed prefects. No one dared to come out into the street and become the next victim of the sicarius’s knife. Hopefully, his act, as well as the knife and garments he left behind, would be evidence of a Roman incursion. When he went back to his inn, he added more to his body count by killing the innkeeper and his family. He then rested in his room, which was also jam-packed with Roman wares, including armors, fake letters, and more sica daggers. Their discovery would further fan the vengeful rage of the Chinese.

Now at peace, the sicarius smiled for doing a job well done. Getting out of the settlement would be as difficult as stuffing a Roman bastard inside of another Roman bastard. But hell, he’d already accomplished his mission. The sicarius wouldn’t care what would happen to him. All he cared was what would happen to his people next. It would be another long and bloody struggle, but at least, freedom would be near, and the destruction of Rome assured.

It was a shame though, for he was also waiting for the ones who were supposed to stop him. He was actually prepared to die in that street. Yet, narry a sound, a sight, or even just a slight disturbance was present. The sicarius did not know whether to be relieved or be disappointed. Guess he was expecting more to happen today. Maybe Yahweh had other plans for him in store. May He be praised by a thousand nations.

Suddenly, the sound of a curtain falling to the floor entered the sicarius’s ears. He jerked back, a sica in his hand, only to meet the stroke of a glistening steel. The ninja slashed his wakizashi with great force upon the sicarius’s neck. Although it only managed to get half-through, it was enough to cut both bone and vocal cords. No screams came out of the sicarius’s mouth; his face bearing the look of a shocked idiot. The moment he fell to the floor, the ninja followed up with another chop, severing his head completely from his body.

The ninja then sheathed his sword and tried to catch his bread. Blood continued to spill and puddle, with little trickles seeping into the boards and raining down on the floor below. Blood, however, was not of the ninja’s concern. Getting his hands and feet bloodied was part of the course. The damage had been done and killing the sicarius was only one part of quenching the fires of rage. After a brief rest, the ninja unstrapped a parcel made of waterproof goat skin. He took out a letter that was written in Chinese, signed by their own Chinese ambassadors and officials, telling those who would read it that the attacks were a setup. That the man was not a Roman and the Romans had nothing to do with the crimes.

It would be a long shot. Who knew if the Chinese would buy it. But they had to try. They had to hope that the wanting for peace far outweighed the thirst for blood. And if this one failed, the ninja believed that the shogun would know what to do. He did worry about the prospects of whether he’d still be allowed to keep his head intact after this. But what’s done was done.

The ninja didn’t bother going downstairs. He decided to continue with the safest route — escaping through the rooftops. He got out of the window and dropped to the next house. He then jumped off unto another building, grabbing a window sill, and climbed up. He kept moving from one nearby building to another, until he came upon an abandoned one, with a broken down rooftop greenery that would serve well as a place of refuge. It was too dangerous to go out into the streets; better to stay put and rest for the night.

A new morning came and people were back outside. Dread still permeated in the atmosphere and prefects continued to roam and question people. The ninja came down from the building and walked away. He glimpsed at the inn where he killed the sicarius, now filled with people buzzing around. Someone had already discovered the bodies. Hopefully, they would be able to do a proper investigation. The ninja then came upon the plaza where the attacks took place. The bodies were gone but blood was still in the dusty ground. Markers were placed as signs of respect for the dead.

Afterwards, he continued to the stables to get his horse and ride towards the port. He couldn’t wait to finally get back to Japan — back to his family and back to his daimyo. If he was going to die, he’d rather be in the land of the rising sun.

The ninja suddenly felt a sharp pain that crippled him. A knife had lacerated his whole thigh, severing muscles and a femoral artery. Screaming, the ninja knelt down as he grasped his leg. He then felt another powerful pain in his chest, and looking down, he saw a jambiya knife jabbed right through him. The ninja made one final gasp before dropping to the ground. As he looked at the sky, sensing life leaving his body, he could hear the screams of the citizens, and the breathing of someone nearby.

Eye to eye, the hashashin and the ninja stared at each other. Complete strangers in this strange world who were currently in shadow conflict against each other. In full view of the ninja, the hashashin took off his cloak, revealing himself to be wearing a Roman lorica segmentata armor — the same one inside the Sicarius’s room. He also took out from his pocket the same letter that the ninja brought with him, which the hashashin tore into tiny little pieces in front of the ninja’s eyes. Soon, the ninja died, and the hashashin could hear the thundering footsteps of prefects and soldiers coming towards him.

The armed Chinese shouted at him, mostly curses and threats. The hashashin understood them well and he could feel the hatred in those words they sent. The Chinese were angered beyond forgiveness. The sort of anger that made one so enraged they didn’t know right from wrong anymore. The sort of anger that caused genocide on a scale that was inhuman and demonic. The sort of anger that even Al Shaitan would blush from. The Chinese wanted blood from those responsible, and right now the hashashin, the prime suspect, would satisfy this bloodlust.

Without fear, in full calmness of mind, the hashashin raised his arms and praised Allah in Latin. He then spoke to the Chinese in their own language, dishing out his own curses and insults. He stated that he, and the sicarius, the one who committed those murders and the one found dead inside that inn full of Roman wares, were Romans. He added how their fellow Romans, and the Roman Empire as a whole, despised the Chinese. How they were disgusted of them. How they consider their culture inferior. How deformed their people were and how bug-like they were. How filthy the pigs they called their women were. How dumb they were to the point that they wouldn’t recognize their mothers from their wives.

Finally, the hashashin ended his inflammatory poetry with the declaration that the Italians would love to come there and wipe their people off the face of the Earth. And how they were already planning to do it and he was only an appetizer.

The prefects had lost their minds. Reason was thrown out; civility dissolved in their hearts. They became more like animals than people after that scornful speech. And this was what the hashashin wanted. The prefects then charged with their swords, spears, and halberds. They skewered the hashashin in the gut, chopped off his limbs, and lopped off parts of his skull. Being ripped to shreds was not always quick. Anyone that angry would want to prolong the suffering of the accursed, and make sure to not leave any area of the skin uncut.

But for the hashashin, it didn’t matter. He had made his people and Allah proud. He had made the former rich too. The Judeans would give the rest of what they owed to the Old Man of the Mountain for his performance. And whoever and whatever nation would die in the upcoming war would be none of their concern.

Expert's Opinion[]

The hashashin was crowned the deadliest ancient hitman for his superior ability to disguise himself, use language, and blend in. He was also the better trained and most experienced when it comes to assassination between the three.

The ninja didn’t lag behind, and some noted that he was the best when it comes to gathering information for an assassination. He also had one of the best weapons and was more advanced. However, his lack of training and experience in all manners of assassination cost him in the end.

The sicarius was placed in last place due to the fact that they were less experienced, less disciplined, and were not as sophisticated as the hashashin and the ninja.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.