System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 62: Chapter 61: Claude Du Vall

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”Gentlemen, what a fortunate afternoon! You find yourselves blessed with the presence of none other than...”

”...Claude Du Vall.”

The now named ”Claude Du Vall” bowed with grace, expecting a clap from his audience. He had a moustache and was wearing a red frock coat, black and gold sash, and cavalier hat with feathers.

As there was no reaction for the audience, he sighed in disdain. ”This is why I prefer if there are females...”

”I know you,” Alaric announced. ”I came across your name in the newspaper.”

Du Vall’s eyes gleamed as he glanced at the tall blonde Kenway. ”Ah! I see my precedes m-”

”Yeah... a generic highway-man,” Alaric continued then sighed. ”Don’t bother asking for our money or supplies, you won’t be able to take ’em.”

Reuben, the guards, coachmen, Du Vall, and Du Vall’s companions stared at Alaric as the blonde continued.

Du Vall was about to open his mouth to speak but was unable to as Alaric didn’t even wait for his response.

”Don’t try to use romance on us also, none of us are gay.” Alaric grinned.

Du Vall didn’t know of the word ’gay’, but could understand what the blonde was referring to as veins gathered on his forehead. He saw red as he yelled, ”Damn you!”

He unholstered his gun with quick speed and pointed it precisely towards Alaric, and *BANG*

Everyone widened their eyes as they shot their heads towards Alaric, who only smirked.

Although Reuben could not react to the bullet immediately, he saw its path. He widened his eyes as the bullet changed direction, simply missing Alaric by a hair’s breadth.

No one noticed, but in that brief moment, Reuben saw Alaric’s eyes turn red and then back to blue in a matter of milliseconds.

”Wha-”

Seeing that Alaric was still smirking, the captain of the escorts angrily turned his head towards Du Vall. ”It is an attack!”

”Shite!”

*BANG*

*BANG*

*BANG*

Everyone scattered. Muskets and flintlock pistols fired as chaos erupted.

Alaric and Reuben looked at each other calmly as the black-haired sighed. ”Yes-yes... I’ll do it.”

He bolted from his position and charged toward the nearest highwaymen.

His steps were swift and deliberate as he reached the first armed opponent. The man raised his weapon but was met with the cold precision of Reuben’s blades.

Reuben twisted his body, his daggers slicing through the air. The enemy staggered and fell silently to the ground.

Another highwayman lunged at him from the side. Reuben’s throwing dagger left his hand in a flash, striking the attacker in the shoulder. The man cried out and dropped his weapon.

The fight grew intense. One by one, Reuben advanced through the disordered ranks of 23 highwaymen.

Each move was calculated and efficient. His blades met steel and flesh in short, crisp strikes. An opponent swung a cutlass, but Reuben blocked with his dagger and countered with a swift thrust.

A highwayman attempted a flurry of attacks. Reuben parried each blow and rolled to the side, using the momentum to drive his daggers forward.

He dispatched one foe with a quick slice to the arm and then another with a silent stab to the heart.

The ground soon became scattered with fallen attackers. Their cries and clatters filled the air as Reuben pressed on, his movements remained smooth and resolute.

Du Vall watched in dismay as his comrades fell one by one. His eyes widened and he hurried toward a nearby horse. Without a backward glance, he spurred the animal and fled the scene.

In the midst of the fray, one enemy managed to break away from the cluster of fallen men. Reuben grunted in frustration as he saw Du vall escaping.

It was then that he sensed a shift in the chaos. When he looked to where Alaric was, beside the wagon. Reuben’s eyes widened in surprise as he realized that Alaric simply smiled and vanished from his view.

The fight, the shouts, and the clashing of metal continued around him, but for a moment, Reuben stood still. ’How strong is he?’

---

”Hiya!”

Du Vall gripped the horse reins tightly, whipping the animal forward as he urged it to move faster. ”Damn, damn, damn, damn!” he muttered under his breath, his thoughts fixed on reaching the camp without delay.

He leaned forward, determination etched on his face.

’I better get my things in the camp,’ he thought, teeth clenched in resolve.

But as he raced ahead, his eyes widened. A familiar figure stood in his path, calm and unmoving.

’What!?’

It was Alaric, watching him with a slight, almost amused smile. He was just standing there calmly.

”You!” Du Vall screamed, his voice cutting through the rush of wind. He yanked the reins, bringing the horse to an abrupt halt. With a swift motion, he unholstered his flintlock and pulled the trigger.

Instead of the expected roar, all he heard was a dull tick.

The weapon was not reloaded.

Glaring at Alaric, Du Vall grunted in frustration. Without hesitation, he dismounted and drew his cutlass. The blade gleamed under the light as he stepped forward, his anger fueled by confusion.

Du Vall lunged, his cutlass slashing in a deadly arc, but Alaric merely tilted his head, letting the blade pass harmlessly by. The highwayman growled in frustration, striking again and again, yet every attack met the same fate—dodged effortlessly or redirected with a mere flick of Alaric’s fingers against the flat of the blade.

”What the hell!?” Du Vall snarled, sweat beading on his forehead. His strikes grew more frenzied, fueled by frustration, but Alaric barely moved. A simple tap against Du Vall’s wrist sent the cutlass veering off course, forcing the swordsman to stumble.

Alaric chuckled, stepping lightly around him. ”Come now, is this all? I thought you had some skill.”

Du Vall’s grip tightened. With a roar, he lunged again, aiming a brutal downward slash. Alaric merely raised a hand, casually catching the side of the blade between his fingers. The cutlass stopped dead, as if lodged in stone.

”Impossible...!” Du Vall gasped, trying to wrench the weapon free, but Alaric twisted his wrist slightly, and the sword flew from Du Vall’s grip, clattering to the ground.

The highwayman staggered back, panting heavily, confusion and fear warring on his face. Alaric tilted his head, expression unreadable. ”Alright. I’ve had enough. Die now.”

Du Vall barely had time to react before his vision blurred. A sharp, sudden pain erupted in his neck—then nothing. He watched in stunned silence as his headless body stood for a fleeting moment before crumpling to the dirt.

Darkness swallowed him before he could even scream.

Alaric sighed, stepping over the lifeless form. With a casual touch, Du Vall’s weapons and belongings vanished, absorbed by an unseen system.

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