System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 45: Chapter 44: Colston Estate Massacre

Alaric walked down the dark streets near the Colston Estate, hands in his pockets, his usual confident smirk resting on his face.

He didn’t bother hiding, didn’t cloak himself in shadows, didn’t even act like an assassin on a mission.

Because he wasn’t hiding.

’And I’m not an Assassin...’

He was here for a massacre.

When he arrived at the estate’s massive gates, he stopped. Two hundred sixty-five people inside. Two hundred of them were likely well-trained guards. The rest? Servants, who had no part in what was about to happen.

Alaric took a deep breath and sent a pulse of his senses outward, as the Foresight Pulse covered the entire estate. The location of every person inside was entirely mapped out as he could feel them all, hear their steady breathing, sense their movements.

It was almost too easy.

He lifted his leg and kicked forward.

The iron gates blasted open, the sheer force ripping them from their hinges.

The guards stationed nearby barely had time to react before Alaric moved.

In a single fluid motion, he unsheathed his Kusanagi and swung it in a perfect arc.

Heads separated from bodies. Blood sprayed against the stone path like a crimson fountain. The guards hadn’t even managed to shout before their lives were snuffed out.

Alaric exhaled through his nose. ”Let’s get this over with.”

More guards rushed toward him, alerted by the sudden destruction of the gate. Some were already drawing their weapons, others shouting orders. It didn’t matter.

Alaric flicked his wrist, sending his blade forward at an impossible speed. The chokuto sliced through three men before they realized what happened. Their torsos split apart; organs spilled onto the ground as their eyes remained frozen in shock.

Another swung a halberd toward him. However, Alaric caught it with his bare hand.

The guard barely had time to react before Alaric crushed the shaft in his grip, sending splinters flying. He grabbed the man’s face and drove it into the cobblestone with enough force to crack the ground.

A dozen more closed in, then two dozen, then more. They moved in waves, attempting to encircle him.

It was the best tactic for normal people, but a foolish tactic when it came to Alaric.

’Well... it’s not like they know.’

Alaric stepped forward. His movements were almost lazy, but his sheer speed was impossible to follow. He weaved between them, cutting through their flesh, severing limbs, rupturing throats. Blood rained down, the ground beneath them growing wet and slippery with blood.

One reached for a pistol, however, Alaric appeared in front of him and jammed his fingers into the man’s chest, making his ribs shatter.

Blood burst from his mouth as his lungs collapsed. He crumpled to the ground, gurgling on his own fluids.

More kept coming. Dozens of men surrounded him, desperate to take him down. Their attacks were relentless... blades slashing, muskets firing, pikes thrusting. But it was useless.

Alaric danced between them, his blade carving through bodies like a hot knife through butter. One man swung an axe, however, Alaric severed his arm at the shoulder before running him through. Another lunged with a rapier, but Alaric sidestepped and drove his knee into the man’s face, shattering bone and sending him flying.

”Monster...” one of them whispered, stepping back in horror.

Another repeated it, and another, until the word spread like wildfire among the remaining guards.

Alaric smiled, flicking blood off his blade. He turned his gaze to the dozens still standing, trembling, their weapons slipping from their fingers. ”You’re just now realizing?” he asked, stepping forward.

One guard panicked and swung his sword wildly. Alaric sidestepped and slammed his elbow into the man’s face, caving in his skull. Another lunged, only for Alaric to seize his wrist and twist. A bone snapped, and the man screamed before Alaric buried his blade into his throat.

More came, driven by fear rather than strategy. He cut them down effortlessly, slashing through torsos, severing limbs, carving a path through the overwhelming wave of bodies. Blood coated the floor as he continued his relentless massacre.

The remaining guards hesitated. Some took a step back, eyes darting toward the mansion, weighing whether to fight or flee.

Alaric tilted his head. ”Go on. Run. See if it makes a difference.”

A handful took the chance, turning to flee. Alaric raised a hand.

’Vulkan!’He willed the metal of their own weapons to rise against them, swords spun mid-air, impaling their fleeing backs. Spears shot forward, skewering them like cattle. Their dying screams filled the air before silence reclaimed the night.

Alaric exhaled, lowering his hand.

”Cowards. I mean... it’s logical to run.”

Then, three figures emerged from the mansion.

Unlike the others, they were massive. At least seven feet tall, their muscles thick, their armor heavy. They carried oversized weapons... one had a massive war hammer, another wielded a flamberge, the last carried a large, spiked mace.

”Finally,” Alaric muttered. ”Something different...”

The man with the hammer sneered. ”You should’ve stayed hidden, boy. We-”

Alaric vanished from sight.

Not even a second later, he was already in front of him.

His fist crashed into the giant’s face, and the man’s skull exploded like a crushed fruit. Bone, brain matter, and gore splattered onto the walls as his body shot backward, crashing through the mansion’s entrance before coming to a bloody halt.

The other two flinched, staring in horror at their fallen comrade, his head nothing more than a pulped mess.

Alaric tilted his head. ”Go on. Try it.”

”AHHHHH!” The one with the flamberge roared and swung. The massive sword descended with enough force to split a horse in two.

Alaric caught the blade effortlessly, his grip stopping it mid-air.

The giant’s face twisted in horror as he tried to pull back, but the sword didn’t budge.

Alaric sighed. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the entire blade shattered into a thousand shards.

Before the man could react, Alaric lashed out with a palm strike to his chest. The sheer force caved in his ribcage, shattering bone and rupturing his organs. Blood sprayed from his mouth as his body convulsed before going limp, his broken frame collapsing to the ground in a heap.

The last one stood his ground, gripping his sword with trembling hands. Fear was evident in his eyes, but he still lunged forward, swinging wildly in desperation.

Alaric didn’t even bother to raise his blade. He simply stepped to the side, dodging with minimal effort. The man swung again, and again, and again—each strike more frantic than the last. Alaric weaved through them effortlessly, his movements flowing like some kind of dance, as if he moved to a rythm of a song.

The guard panted, sweat dripping down his face. His arms were trembling from exhaustion as his swings grew sluggish.

Alaric sighed, tilting his head. ”Okay... thank you for entertaining me a little.”

Before the man could react, Alaric performed a single slash.

The giant’s head separated from his shoulders, blood spraying in a perfect arc before his body collapsed to the floor.

Alaric walked past the corpse, his boots splashing in the pool of red. ”Pathetic.”

He stepped through the front doors of the mansion, his blade dancing in his grip like an extension of his will. The guards inside barely had time to react before they were reduced to little more than severed limbs and gory remains. Alaric moved with lethal grace, each strike swift, efficient, and merciless.

Blood splattered across the walls, pooling in dark puddles on the marble floor. One guard let out a choked scream before his throat was slit, another raised his weapon only for his arm to be cleaved clean off, his body following moments later.

Alaric didn’t stop. He moved through the mansion like a reaper. Every step he took left behind a gory masterpiece of severed limbs and lifeless bodies. Blood painted the walls, pooling around him in thick, dark rivers. The stench of iron filled the air, mingling with the final, choked gasps of the fallen.

Then, he got bored.

His Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan flared to life. His vision sharpened, the world slowing down. With a mere thought, he activated Vulkan. ℯℯ𝑙.

Every metallic object around him twisted to his will. Swords ripped from their owners’ hands and impaled them. Armor tightened, crushing the men inside. Daggers, Cutlasses, Sabers and many types of weapon floated in the air before launching forward like bullets, puncturing skulls and hearts.

In mere moments, the hallway became a graveyard.

But he wasn’t done.

Ignoring the luxurious decor and blood-soaked carpets, Alaric made his way underground. He already knew where it was.

The vault.

It was massive. Far larger than Emmett’s. A thick four-meter-tall door of reinforced steel stood before him.

Alaric’s Sharingan spun again. With Vulkan, the metal groaned, twisted, then burst from its frame. The humongous door levitated for a moment before Alaric flicked his fingers, sending it crashing to the side.

What he saw inside made him pause.

Piles of gold bars. Chests overflowing with pounds. Rows of high-quality weapons and armor. Diamonds, jewelry... this was wealth beyond measure.

He whistled. ”Colston, you absolute bastard.”

His system notification chimed as he started selling every item and desposited every coin.

[+ £8,846,623 19s. 1d.]

6

[Current Balance: £11,232,194 8s. 10d.](359,430,222R)

”Colston, you sun of a gun...” Alaric let out a low laugh, genuinely surprised at the sheer amount. ”So this is what a slave trader’s wealth looks like.”

He shook his head and turned away. His business wasn’t done.

He moved upstairs at a steady pace. No guards were left to stop him. The ones he hadn’t killed were unconscious, spared only because they were mere servants.

At last, he reached the highest floor.

The master bedroom’s door stood before him.

Alaric smirked.

’Edward, what are you doing... sleeping? Bathing? Why aren’t you helping your men outside? Hehehe...’

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