System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 122: Chapter 121: Night of Slaughter

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---Previously---

He smirked, the expression chilling in the darkness. ”I prefer not to kill needlessly,” he muttered to the wind. ”But I don’t really care anymore...”

With a smirk that promised chaos, he tilted forward and dropped.

---Now---

The fall was a streak of crimson lightning. The air howled as Alaric plummeted, and when he hit the ground, it was like God Himself had slammed a fist into the earth.

BOOOM!

The impact cratered the dirt, swallowing twenty soldiers in an instant as bones shattered, armor crumpled, lives snuffed out before they could scream. The shockwave ripped outward, tossing dozens more soldiers into the air like broken toys as their bodies crashed back down in twisted heaps.

Dust billowed up in a choking cloud, and for a split second, the army froze. Then a soldier near the front’s face was smeared with dirt and terror, pointed a shaking sword at the figure rising from the crater. ”W-what in God’s name?!”

Alaric dusted off his sleeves, completely unbothered, and cracked his neck with a lazy grin. ”God’s got nothing to do with this, mate. You’re just in my way.”

Before they could blink, Alaric was moving. He didn’t bother with weapons... not yet. This was pure, raw Taijutsu, and he fought like a damn legend as he became fluid, precise, and unstoppable. Think Madara Uchiha tearing through an army, but with a cocky smirk and a mouth that wouldn’t quit.

A soldier thrust a spear at him. Alaric sidestepped, grabbed the shaft, and yanked the guy forward into a brutal elbow to the face. Teeth flew like confetti as the man crumpled. Another swung a cutlass but Alaric ducked, swept the legs, and stomped down hard enough to cave the guy’s chest in.

”What’s this?” he laughed, spinning to dodge a rapier. ”You lot dance worse than my grandma... and I don’t even know her!”

He flowed through them like water through a strainer, every move was a masterpiece of violence. A punch shattered a jaw, a kick sent three men flying into their buddies, and a casual backhand snapped a neck.

”Come on, lads!” he shouted, grinning wide. ”I’m barely breaking a sweat here!”

From the sidelines, Reuben and Thulani watched, jaws damn near hitting the dirt. They’d seen Alaric fight before... hell, they’d walked through the carnage he’d left at Colston’s place in 1712... but this? This was a whole new level.

Reuben, who’d been with Alaric on their journey outside England, had only caught glimpses of him in action. Ship battles didn’t give him much chance, as first time, Reuben was too busy boarding; second time, Alaric just clocked an Ottoman pirate in the jaw and called it a day.

Now? This was Alaric moving, really moving, and it was bloody unreal.

”Christ almighty,” Reuben muttered, his hand twitching toward the Sword of Damokles. ”I’ve never seen him like this. He’s... he’s playing with ’em.”

Thulani, towering and stoic, nodded slowly, his eyes tracking Alaric’s every step. ”He’s always held back around us. But this... this is the real Alaric.”

Flavia, poor lass, couldn’t even stand it. She dropped to her knees, hands shaking, eyes bugging out of her head.

”This... This is Alaric’s... power?” she stammered, voice barely a whisper. She’d heard the stories from Reuben, Thulani, and Jonathan, but seeing it? That was something else. Even Reuben and Thulani were shocked right now, that meant that this was the first time Alaric went all out.

Kassandra, with her arms folded tight, felt sweat slicking her palms.

She’d fought and killed more than she could count... the centuries of blood on her hands was unimagineable, but watching Alaric carve through these fools lit a fire in her gut. ’Malaka... I love how strong he is... he turns me on so much,’ she thought, feeling the thrill in her body. Her fingers itched for her staff, but she stayed put, eyes locked on the massacre.

By the time Alaric hit soldier number five hundred, his breath was coming a bit heavier. Not from effort... nah, he was just bored of punching the same dumb faces. Time to switch it up. His eyes flared crimson as the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan snapped to life, and with a mental shout of ’Eros!’a rush of energy flooded his veins.

Tired? Gone.

He was back to full, buzzing with 90% chakra and a grin that said he was just getting started.

”Let’s keep on going!” he yelled, as his voice ringed across the battlefield like a damn war horn.

With a flick of his wrist, the Kusanagi unsealed from the tattoo on his arm, shimmering into existence. The chokuto’s blade caught the torchlight, sharp and deadly, and the soldiers flinched back like they’d seen the devil himself.

”Oh, don’t run off now!” Alaric teased, twirling the sword like it weighed nothing. ”We’re just getting to the fun part!”

He lunged, and the Kusanagi sang. The blade sliced through armor like it was paper, blood spraying in arcs as soldiers dropped. He darted between them, becoming a red-and-black blur, cutting down anyone dumb enough to get close.

A group tried to box him in with shields but Alaric just laughed, leapt up, and brought the sword down in a slash that split shields, men, and all.

”You call that a defense?” he snorted, kicking a corpse aside. ”My dog could do better, and he’s got three legs!”

The soldiers’ screams mixed with his taunts, their morale crumbling faster than their ranks. ”Keep swinging, lads!” he called, parrying a desperate thrust and beheading the attacker in one smooth motion. ”Maybe one of you’ll get lucky!”

When only a thousand soldiers were left standing, Alaric’s pace started to flag. His strikes were still deadly, but they were slower, his shoulders heaving just a bit. Reuben caught it first as his brow furrowed.

”He’s tiring,” he said, hand on his sword hilt.

Thulani nodded, Excalibur gleaming faintly in its sheath. ”We should step in.”

Flavia, still on her knees, forced herself up, determination overriding her shock. ”Sì, we can’t just watch—”

They were ready to jump in but Kassandra’s arm immediately shot out, blocking them like a wall.

”No,” she snapped, her gaze never leaving Alaric. ”Believe in the man you follow. I don’t think he’ll go down with just that. Knowing Alaric... he’s got an ace up his sleeve.”

Reuben glared at her, frustrated. ”But he’s—”

”Trust him,” she cut in, voice hard as steel. And deep down, she knew she was right.

Even as Alaric’s body lagged, his mind was buzzing. ’Damn... this is the first time I’ve enjoyed fighting like this!’ he thought as a wild grin was splitting his face.

Nine hundred soldiers left, and the cowards finally wised up. They pulled back, forming a defensive line, shields up, keeping their distance from the madman in crimson. Fifty of ’em, armed with flintlocks and muskets, took aim and fired as a storm of bullets screamed towards Alaric.

He didn’t even blink as his EMS flared, and with a lazy wave of his hand, ’Vulkan’kicked in.

The bullets froze mid-air, inches from his face, then clattered to the ground like hail. The soldiers gaped, mouths open like fish, as Alaric raised a hand. Every damn weapon they had... pistols, muskets, rapiers, cutlasses, even the buckles on their boots... lifted into the air, glowing faintly.

”W-what sorcery is this?!” one soldier shrieked, dropping to his knees.

”Sorcery?” Alaric chuckled, flicking his fingers. ”Nah, just a little trick.” The weapons shot off, landing in a useless pile a hundred yards away. ”Now what you gonna do? Throw rocks?”

The soldiers’ faces were pure panic, some dropping their shields and running, others just staring like they’d seen a ghost.

Kassandra’s jaw dropped, her heart hammering. Reuben choked out a ”Bloody hell,” while Thulani’s hands shook on Excalibur’s hilt. Flavia whispered, ”Impossibile...”

Kassandra snapped out of it, turning to Aletheia in her head. ’Those tattoos, those eyes... do you know what this is?’

Aletheia’s voice was shaky, uncertain. ’There’s no calculation, no record, that explains Alaric Jonathan Kenway and his abilities. He’s... truly an anomaly.’

’Is he a god then?’ Kassandra pressed as her pulse raced.

’No,’ Aletheia said firmly. ’He’s human. But his power... it’s beyond comprehension.’

Kassandra whirled on the others. ”Hello!?” she barked, snapping them out of their stupor. ”Any of you know what this is?”

Reuben shook his head, dazed. ”No... this is the first time I’ve seen him fight like this. I-I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Thulani and Flavia just stared, too shocked to speak.

Alaric stood alone, the road littered with bodies, the air thick with blood and smoke. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled chakra from the damn earth itself.

When he opened back his eyes, a scarlet hue burned on his eyelids, and a glowing crimson tattoo flared to life on his forehead and cheek. The atmosphere shifted... it became heavy, electric, and alive.

This was Phoenix Sage Mode, and it was bloody magnificent.

He turned to Kassandra, his smile radiant, carrying a weight of power and rulership that hit her like a punch. Her breath caught, her mind screaming, ’What the hell is he?’

Then he faced the nine hundred soldiers, who were trembling, some pissing themselves at the sight. ”Right,” Alaric said with his voice being low and resonant, ”let’s wrap this up.”

He raised a hand, and fire exploded from his palm... white-hot Phoenix Fire, so intense it warped the air.

It surged forward, a roaring wave of death that melted armor in a heartbeat, turning soldiers to ash before they could scream.

The heat was unreal, the flames were unstoppable, and Alaric walked through it like it was a summer breeze, a god in the chaos.

”Run if you want!” he called, his voice cutting through the inferno. ”It won’t save you!”

The last of them burned, their cries swallowed by the firestorm. When it faded, the road was a graveyard of ash and twisted metal, and Alaric stood tall, untouched. But one soldier remained... a young man, trembling, clutching a dented sword, his face smeared with soot and fear.

Alaric’s grin faded as he strode toward him, each step heavy with intent. The soldier dropped his weapon, collapsing to his knees. ”P-please... don’t kill me...” he begged with his hoarse voice.

Alaric walked over towards him while his eyes narrowed. ”You’re in luck, kid. I’m feeling generous.” He crouched down, voice dropping to a chilling whisper. ”Run. Go to London. Tell your new King that if he ever threatens Bristol’s peace or its slave-free system again, I’ll come back. And I won’t be so kind next time.”

The soldier blinked, stunned, then nodded vigorously. ”Yes—yes, I’ll tell him!”

”Good,” Alaric nodded his head, standing. ”Now go.”

The soldier scrambled up, casting a wild glance at the smoldering wreckage before bolting down the path, his legs were pumping as fast as they could carry him. Alaric watched him disappear into the distance, then turned, dusting off his hands, and walked back toward his crew.

His crew stood clustered at the battlefield’s edge, mouths agape, still reeling from the chaos they’d witnessed. Reuben stepped forward first, rubbing his eyes as if to clear a hallucination. ”Alaric... mate, what was that? You torched ’em like it was nothing!”

Thulani crossed his arms, brow furrowed. ”I’ve seen warriors, but you... that fire... where’d it come from?”

Flavia, clutching her dagger, stared at him like he’d sprouted wings. ”Are you a spirit? A god? What are you, Signore?”

Alaric shrugged, a vague smirk playing on his lips. ”Just a guy with some tricks up his sleeve. Don’t overthink it.”

Kassandra walked towards Alaric slowly, unfazed, and her eyes were glinting with heat. She slid a hand along his arm, voice low. ”Tricks, huh? That was damn impressive. Got my blood pumping.”

He raised an eyebrow, matching her tone. ”Oh, yeah? Good to know.”

Reuben pressed on, undeterred. ”Tricks? Come on, that was sorcery or somethin’! How’d you do it?”

”Talent,” Alaric replied cryptically, brushing it off. ”Years of practice.”

Thulani shook his head, awestruck. ”Practice doesn’t explain that, brother. You’re a bloody legend.”

Alaric clapped a hand on each of their shoulders, Reuben on his left, Thulani on his right. ”Yeah, yeah... let’s just go already. Aunt Linette will kill me for taking too much time.”

Reuben and Thulani exchanged a look, grinning despite themselves. ”After that?” Reuben said. ”I’d follow you anywhere, mate. Strong, rich, and a bit mad... best leader I could ask for.”

”Aye,” Thulani agreed. ”No regrets here. You’re worth every step.”

Alaric rolled his eyes but gave their shoulders a squeeze before stepping forward, heading toward Bristol. The trio lingered a moment, staring at his back... a tall, unshaken, a figure carved from the chaos they’d just survived. Flavia muttered something in Italian, still dazed, while Reuben and Thulani shook their heads in disbelief.

Kassandra caught up, slipping her arm through his. As they walked, she leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. ”Tonight, in La Providencia’s grand cabin... let’s do it.”

Alaric grinned, a familiar heat stirring below his belt. ”Damn... I’d like that. Let’s do a couple of rounds as a cardio.”

She smirked, voice sly. ”Oh? How many rounds are we talking?”

He pretended to mull it over. ”Let’s not do too much right now... about fifteen?”

Her eyes widened, and she shouted, ”Fifteen?! You’re gonna kill me!”

He laughed, pulling her closer.

”You’ll manage. We’ve got a long night ahead.”

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