System in Assassin's Creed

[Current Balance: £46,709,596 6s. 5d.]

---

"This ain't so bad..." Alaric murmured, testing the mattress.

"I agree..." Reuben added, glancing around the cabin.

Minutes had passed since they'd said their goodbyes to William Penn. Now, they found themselves inside a decent, spacious cabin... definitely worth the price they'd paid.

"They said the food's free, right?" Reuben recalled, looking over at Alaric, who was now sitting cross-legged on his own bed. "For £300, they should've also have bath tubs... tsk." 

"That's what they said," the blonde confirmed with a satisfied nod, bouncing slightly. "Bed's fine too... nice."

The cabin was furnished simply with beds, desks, and wardrobes. Not that it mattered much... neither man had brought anything beyond the clothes that they were wearing and their weapons.

Speaking of weapons...

"Now that I think 'bout it..." Reuben began, his brow furrowing slightly as he settled onto his bed, "Where's your Kusanagi? Can't believe you didn't bring it."

Alaric, who had stretched out on his back, turned his head towards the former thief and hummed thoughtfully. "Don't really need it much nowadays," he replied, sitting up again. "But it's with me."

"With you?" Reuben repeated, confused. Alaric clearly had no sword strapped to him, not that the lack of a visible weapon made him any less dangerous.

"Yes," Alaric nodded. He extended his hand with his palm up, sending a slight pulse of chakra towards a seal on his shoulder hidden behind the clothes.

What happened next made Reuben's eyes widen. The guardless blade, Kusanagi, materialized in Alaric's hand as if from thin air.

"W-Wha—"

Alaric watched Reuben's reaction and chuckled softly. "What's with that look? Don't you remember the tattoos I inscribed on you? Did you really think I was... normal?"

"..." Reuben fell silent, processing.

"..."

"No... 'course not," Reuben finally sighed, regaining his composure. This was Alaric, after all. "Are you... some kind of monster? Made a pact with the devil?"

"...What?" The blonde gave Reuben a blank stare before chuckling again, the Kusanagi vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "I mean... I get where you're coming from... but no. Still human, like you."

Reuben held Alaric's gaze for a long moment before sighing again, accepting the impossible sight he'd just witnessed. "Then can you at least answer this... how strong are you... really?"

"..."

Alaric didn't reply immediately. He turned his head, gazing out the cabin's window as the gentle motion of the ship indicated they were finally sailing. He wasn't sure how to answer. How would Reuben react?

Reuben watched the blonde, waiting. After a moment of silence, he sighed and leaned back against the headboard, about to tell Alaric to forget he'd asked. But before he could speak, Alaric broke the silence.

"I don't... know..." the blonde muttered, his gaze still fixed on the passing sea outside. "The last time I really had to try... put effort into killing... I was five. Bunch of bandits stole grain from our family."

He turned back to face Reuben, a distant look in his eyes. "Now?" A sigh escaped him. "I don't know. I killed maybe two hundred men back at the Colston Estate... but it felt like fighting children. It was... boring."

'Now that I think about it... two hundred men... why didn't I feel anything?' Alaric frowned, staring down at his own hands. 'In my past life... I killed, sure, but only when necessary... Why was I so merciless back there? Some were running, defeated, but I cut them down anyway... Have I become numb?'

Seeing Alaric lost in thought, Reuben remained quiet.

"..."

"..."

Sensing the heavy mood, Alaric shook his head slightly and offered Reuben a small chuckle. "My apologies..." He shifted, leaning forward conspiratorially.

"Anyway... we've known each other fourteen years now, right?" A sly smile touched his lips. "I'll tell you a little secret..."

"A secret?" Reuben's eyebrows rose. "That sounds interesting..."

"Yep... I raided the Queen's palace last night."

"..."

"..."

"...What did you just say?" Reuben's brow furrowed deeply, and he rubbed his temples. "Maybe I heard wrong... You raided the Queen's palace? The one where we just dined with her?"

"Yeah..."

"..."

"...Anyway," Alaric continued, his smirk widening as another sword appeared in his hand, this one different from the Kusanagi, "I got something interesting that might be useful for you."

Reuben eyed the new sword, then looked back at Alaric. "A sword... so what?"

"Hohoho... not just any sword," Alaric's smirk never faded as he extended the weapon towards the dark-haired man.

"It's an ancient weapon. Forged by an entity named Hephaistos, apparently." He folded his arms while leaning back. "The name it came with is 'The Sword of Damokles'. But I'm renaming it... 'The Sword of Reuben'... or 'Reuben's Blade'... or maybe 'Sword of a Former Thief'... Ooh, or better yet... 'The Sword of the Former Baldie'! Yeah... that's a good one..."

"...Stop," Reuben sighed, taking the offered sword. "Your naming sense is atrocious. You must never name your children, if you ever have any."

"Heh..."

"...Interesting," Reuben murmured, turning the sword over in his hands, analyzing its make. He gripped the hilt tightly. "The moment I held this... I felt like I could win against anyone."

Just then, the sword emitted a low, resonant hum that both men heard clearly. It seemed to shine faintly and vibrated in Reuben's grasp before settling back to its normal state.

"...Seems like the sword likes you, Reuben," Alaric commented, observing the phenomenon.

Reuben tightened his grip on the handle, feeling a new, unfamiliar strength flowing into him, syncing with his body. "I... Are you sure I can keep this?"

"Yes," Alaric nodded simply, lying back down on his bed. "It's all yours."

Knock. Knock.

A gruff voice came from the other side of the door. "Hey folks, brought yer meals... ye hungry?"

---Time Skip---

Three weeks drifted by as the journey proved to be remarkably smooth. No pirates tested their defenses, no storms battered the ship, and the winds weren't against them.

Alaric stood at the crow's nest, enjoying the cool afternoon breeze. It was around four o'clock, the sun beginning its descent, sparing him its harsher rays. Not that he was a vampire, he just preferred avoiding sunburn.

'Would I even get skin cancer?' 

He shook his head, then his gaze fixed on the horizon as the ship adjusted its course slightly. Minutes later, the hazy outline of a city emerged from the distance.

'That must be Lisbon,' he concluded, his hair and the edge of his cloak fluttering in the wind.

Just then, Alaric sensed someone ascending the ladder below. With a soft sigh, he thought, 'I was enjoying the view... tsk'.

He effortlessly vaulted over the railing, dropping silently to the main deck amidst a cluster of cargo crates shrouded in the fog, landing in an easy blind spot.

He started walking towards the open hatch leading below the deck but paused.

Standing near the railing was a middle-aged man clad in a distinctive white, oversized frock coat worn open with nothing underneath. He sported cream-colored pants held up by a dark brown sash, and black boots. But his most notable features were the black bandana tied around his head and a magnificent white-beard shaped like a crescent moon.

'What was his name again?' Alaric recognized him – the ship's captain. 'Edward... Oldgate? Something like that.'

"Oh, ain't this the Kenway boy!?" The captain boomed, turning towards Alaric with a wide grin. "GURARARARARARARA!"

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