Italy, 1492
An assassin makes his way through a Roman castle, slicing the throats of every guard on duty. Suddenly, a figure appears on the easternmost battlement. The assassin turns and smiles slyly.

*An easy target*, he thinks.

He doesn’t know how wrong he is.

He tucks his dagger into his pocket and pulls a sword from its sheath. He advances slowly but surely on this mysterious figure, and at the last second, he lunges.

The figure grabs the blade mid lunge, stopping it entirely. His blood runs down the blade but he doesn’t care. He closes his hand into a fist. In a single swift motion, he pulls the assassin in by his sword and punches him in the heart. The assassin’s eyes widen in shock and terror. He stumbles back, tripping over himself, his balance betraying him as blood pours freely out of his mouth. As he lay down to die, he looks at his attacker.

None other than Ben Shapiro, the god of factual knowledge, stands before him. He grips the blade so hard that it breaks in his fingers, crumbling and falling to the floor. The assassin lets his head fall to the ground one last time.

Another libtard rekt.