System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 126: Chapter 125: ”Next stop... Havana!”

[Current Balance: 11,744,410,881 R]

---The Next Morning, Lisbon Inn Room. JULY 9, 1714---

Sunlight streamed through the shutters of the inn’s window, casting stripes across the wooden floor.

The sounds of the distant church bells, street vendors shouting, carts rumbling over cobblestones made Lisbon’s day begin. Alaric stirred, blinking as he woke up in the unfamiliar bed.

Next to him, Kassandra stretched out, her back arching, the thin linen sheet barely covering her waist and doing little to hide the toned and sexy muscles she had. The soft scent of last night could still lingered in the air.

She turned towards him as her amber eyes were soft and warm in the morning light. A slow, intimate smile then touched her lips.

”Good morning, agápi mou,” she murmured, her voice was a bit husky due to sleep.

”Mornin’,” Alaric replied, his own voice a bit rough. He propped himself up on an elbow, admiring the view.

Kassandra leaned in, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair from his forehead before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. It started gentle, a simple morning greeting, but quickly deepened. The initial tenderness gave way to a familiar heat, tongues exploring, hands tangling in hair. The memory of the previous night, and the nights before, sparked between them, a comfortable yet potent intimacy.

After a long moment, Kassandra pulled back slightly, her breath mingling with his. Her eyes sparkled with affection and a hint of mischief.

”As much as I enjoy this...” She whispered against his lips. ”...we have a long voyage ahead. Let’s get ready.”

Alaric nodded, a reluctant smile playing on his lips. ”Duty calls, I suppose.”

They rose from the bed, moving around the modest inn room with easy familiarity. Minutes later, Alaric was dressed in his preferred style... fine black trousers, a crisp white linen shirt, and his signature crimson coat draped over his shoulders, looking every bit the wealthy, enigmatic gentleman despite the humble surroundings.

Kassandra, meanwhile, had donned an outfit that blended practicality with a striking presence.

A simple white linen blouse, its gathered sleeves cinched fashionably at the elbows, was tucked into snug black trousers that disappeared into sturdy, calf-high brown leather boots. Over the blouse, she wore a fitted burgundy leather corset, dyed crimson and fastened tightly with dark brown laces, accentuating her athletic figure.

A broad leather belt sat low on her hips, adorned with several small pouches for essentials. Adding a touch of warrior readiness, a diagonal leather harness crossed over her right shoulder, running down between her breasts... it was a practical piece for securing gear, but one that also undeniably drew attention to her curves. Dark brown, leather gloves completed the ensemble, reaching halfway up her forearms.

She looked powerful, beautiful, and ready for anything the Atlantic might throw at them.

She finished adjusting her belt, then turned to Alaric, who was watching her with open appreciation. ”Ready for the day?” she asked, walking towards him. ”Let’s go find some breakfast before Oldgate starts bellowing from the docks.”

Alaric grinned, getting up from where he’d sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his own boots. He gave a final yawn, stretching his arms overhead.

”Sounds like a plan.”

---

[Money Withdrawal: 7 R]

[Current Balance: 11,744,410,874 R]

The Kenway family occupied several rooms in the same large inn Alaric and Kassandra had stayed in. After a quick but hearty breakfast in the inn’s common room, and at the same time they were filled with chatter about yesterday’s purchases and the sights of Lisbon... the entire group then gathered in the cobbled courtyard, ready to head back to the harbor.

Jonathan Hugh efficiently organized the staff, ensuring everyone had their meager belongings accounted for.

Alaric lit a fresh cigar as they began the walk towards the docks, falling into step beside his father and uncle. Bernard was recounting a story about haggling with a particularly stubborn pottery vendor, while Leonard listened with amused patience.

Alaric puffed thoughtfully on his cigar, his gaze drifting towards the group of women walking slightly ahead. His mother, Eleanor, and Aunt Linette were flanking Kassandra, engaged in animated conversation. Kassandra was gesturing with her hands, a genuine smile on her face as she spoke, occasionally laughing at something Linette said.

’Look at her,’ Alaric thought, a warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with the cigar smoke. ’She’s faced down gods and monsters, lived through ages that would crush anyone else, carries the weight of millennia... and right now, she’s just... talking. Laughing with Mum and Aunt Linette like any other woman sharing gossip or stories. It’s incredible.’

He took another drag as the image solidified in his mind. ’She might have had a tough existence, seen and done things I can barely imagine... but this side of her? This relaxed, almost normal side? I love it.’

Their procession reached the bustling harbor front. Ahead, La Providencia was large against the pier, and a long, orderly queue of people snaked towards its gangway... the Kenway staff, Oldgate’s crew finishing their shore leave.

As Alaric and the Kenway family approached the end of the line, several staff members near the back noticed them. Eyes widened, and nervous shuffling ensued. A former groundskeeper, a man named Silas, quickly stepped out of line, gesturing respectfully.

”Master Alaric! Master Kenway, Mistresses! Please, go ahead, don’t wait with us,” Silas urged, echoed by murmurs of agreement from those around him.

Alaric offered a relaxed smile, waving a hand dismissively. ”It’s quite alright, Silas. We’ll wait our turn like everyone else.” He casually joined the back of the queue, Kassandra beside him, his family following suit without hesitation.

The employees exchanged awkward glances. Seeing their employers... the family whose wealth was legendary even before their recent troubles, the young master who commanded respect and fear in equal measure... simply lining up with them felt... strange. Wrong, almost. But it also fostered a quiet sense of respect.

These weren’t aloof aristocrats. They might be impossibly rich now, but they hadn’t forgotten where they came from, the hardships they’d faced back in Wales before Bristol.

Some of the older staff, who had served other wealthy families before joining the Kenway household, knew this kind of easy humility was rare, almost unheard of. It solidified their loyalty, made them feel less like servants and more like part of a shared, uncertain venture.

Alaric shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts as the line moved forward steadily. When his boot stepped onto the worn wooden planks of the pier just before the gangway, he subtly channeled a minuscule amount of chakra downwards.

An intricate a Hiraishin marker flared for a fraction of a second on the wood before fading completely from sight.

’There,’ he thought with satisfaction. ’Lisbon, marked. Now I can return instantly if needed...’

He walked up the gangplank, Kassandra’s hand linked loosely with his. On the main deck, the usual organized chaos of departure was underway. Captain Oldgate stood near the main mast, bellowing orders, his eyes scanning the newly loaded cargo being secured below deck.

Kassandra leaned closer to Alaric. ”I think I might rest a bit more in the cabin before we hit open sea,” she murmured. His family seemed to have similar ideas, looking tired from the previous day’s excitement and ready for the familiar comfort of their berths.

Alaric nodded. ”Go ahead. I’ll stay up here for a bit, keep Whitebeard company.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

As Kassandra and the elder Kenways headed below deck, Alaric noticed Reuben and Thulani near the forecastle, not lounging but actively helping some of Oldgate’s crew coil thick ropes.

The sailors seemed hesitant to accept help from passengers, especially passengers like these two, but Reuben and Thulani were insisting.

”Just keeping busy, lads!” Reuben was saying cheerfully. ”Better than standing around twiddling our thumbs!”

Thulani simply nodded, effortlessly hauling a heavy coil that usually required two men.

Alaric chuckled, walking over to Oldgate, who had just finished inspecting a crate of salted fish. ”Sorry, Whitebeard,” Alaric called out, gesturing towards the two helpers with his cigar. ”Looks like these two have decided they want to sign on as crew.”

Oldgate turned, saw Reuben and Thulani working, and let out his signature booming laugh.

”GURARARARARARA!” He slapped his thigh. ”As if I could afford ’em! With the way those two fight? Their wages would bankrupt me faster than a week in a Tortuga tavern!” He shook his head, still chuckling. ”Nah, but let ’em work if they want. Keeps ’em out of trouble, maybe.”

Alaric took a long, satisfying drag from his cigar, the rich smoke swirling around him in the morning breeze. Oldgate watched him, his eyes lingering on the cigar.

”Say, lad,” the captain finally grunted, wiping his hands on his trousers. ”You got any more of those fancy smokes on ya?”

”Sure,” Alaric replied easily, reaching into his coat. He pulled out the nearly full pack of cigars and tossed it to Oldgate. ”Keep the pack. It’s all yours.”

Oldgate caught it deftly, a pleased glint in his eyes. ”Don’t mind if I do.” He pulled one out immediately. ”How many of these things d’you reckon you puff through in a day, anyway?”

Alaric chuckled. ”Depends on the day. You?”

Oldgate lit his cigar with a practiced flick of his lighter, taking a deep, appreciative drag. ”Hm... Usually just one or two. Maybe three if the rum’s flowin’ particularly well or the seas are rough.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke contentedly.

”Fair enough,” Alaric nodded, taking another puff himself. He leaned against the railing beside Oldgate, looking out at the harbor traffic. ”So, where to next, Captain? You’ve got the charts.”

Oldgate gestured vaguely towards the open sea with his cigar. ”Well, from here, headin’ west... main choices for resupply ’fore the long stretch are Tortuga or Havana. Both got deep harbors, plenty o’ taverns, though Havana’s a bit more... civilized, shall we say. Governed by the Spanish Crown, mostly.”

Alaric considered this, the smoke momentarily obscuring his expression. He took a final drag from his cigar, the cherry flaring brightly before he flicked the butt overboard into the water below.

”Let’s make for Havana,” he decided. ”I’ve got some... matters to attend to there.”

Oldgate raised a thick eyebrow in surprise. ”Havana? You got business in Spanish territory? You been there before?”

”No, never set foot,” Alaric admitted casually. ”But I know someone who might be kicking around Nassau, over in the Republic of Pirates. Havana’s the closest major port to check first.”

The captain’s other eyebrow joined the first. ”The Republic of Pirates? Nassau?”

He gave Alaric a sideways look, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. ”You know a pirate? One of those cutthroats?” He shook his head. ”Why in the seven seas would a respectable, rich fella like you be associatin’ with that sort?”

Alaric just chuckled, clapping Oldgate on the shoulder. ”Well, I’m associated with you, aren’t I, Whitebeard?” He grinned at the captain’s indignant splutter.

”Relax. It’s complicated. Anyway,” he added, his tone shifting slightly, ”I might need to stay in Havana for a bit to handle things. You and the family can set sail for Delaware as soon as you’re restocked. I’ll... catch up.”

Oldgate stared at him, his mouth slightly agape, the unspoken question of ’How in bloody hell do you plan to do that?’ was written plainly on his face. He knew better than to ask for details of Alaric’s ’sorcery’ by now, though.

Alaric saw the look and just chuckled again, deciding to change the subject. ”Tell you what, though... once we reach Havana, consider your cabin fully stocked. I’ll make sure you have enough of these premium cigars to last you a couple of years, my treat.”

Oldgate’s eyes widened, the confusion momentarily forgotten, replaced by a broad, greedy grin. He slapped Alaric heartily on the back. ”A couple of years worth, ye say!? GURARARARARA! Now you’re talkin’ sense, lad!” He rubbed his hands together gleefully. ”Right then! No sense lingerin’ here!”

He turned, his voice instantly shifting back to command mode, bellowing across the deck. ”Alright, you swabs! Secure that last bit o’ cargo! Prepare to cast off! Hoist the main sails! We’re leavin’ Portugal behind!”

”Next stop... Havana!”

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