System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 44: Chapter 43: Thulani & Reuben’s POV’s

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The Bristol docks reeked of salt, damp wood, and the lingering stench of unwashed bodies.

Thulani moved through the shadows, his dark skin blending seamlessly in the night.

The waters washed gently against the wooden posts, masking the faint sound of his boots against the planks. He took a slow breath, his grip tightening around the hilt of his greatsword, resting at his back.

Ahead of him, a single brig was docked beside the port.

Lanterns flickered along its rails, illuminating the figures of guards and slavers. Thulani had seen men like them before. He had suffered under their hands.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

Then, like a rush of clarity washing over him, his world changed.

The darkness around him bled into gold and blue hues.

The ship, the docks, the people... everything was bathed in an ethereal glow, yet some stood out more than others. Figures shrouded in a red hue. Fifty of them.

Alaric had trained him and Reuben to their absolute limits, and in doing so, unlocked something inside them... a sixth sense that allowed them to perceive what others could not.

It was as if the world spoke to him in whispers only he could hear, showing him dangers, hidden paths, and the truths men wished to conceal.

His jaw clenched. ’Fifty men. Again.’

It was just like yesterday when he and Reuben had fought through an entire force of armed men. But this time, he was alone.

He exhaled, opening his eyes. The golden glow faded, leaving only the dimly lit brig before him. It was time.

Thulani moved silently, slipping past the first two guards stationed near the loading ramp. As he approached the ship, he grabbed a loose rope hanging from the mast and pulled himself up silently, climbing onto the deck.

The first man never saw it coming.

SHINK!

Thulani swung his greatsword in an arc, slicing through flesh and bone as easily as cutting through butter. The man gurgled, his body going limp as blood splattered onto the deck.

”WHAT THE-”

The second guard barely had time to react before Thulani grabbed his face and slammed it into the wooden railing.

A sickening crack followed as his skull caved under the force. Thulani didn’t even blink.

The alarm was raised before he could strike down another. Shouts echoed across the brig as men rushed onto the deck, cutlasses drawn.

”IT’S A RAID!” One of them shouted.

Thulani rolled his shoulders, shifting his stance. His greatsword was massive, powerful, but limited in a fight like this. Against overwhelming numbers, he needed to be smart.

The first wave came.

Five men charged him at once. Thulani swung low, sweeping his blade in a wide arc. Two men screamed as their legs were cleaved clean off.

Before the others could react, he dashed forward, driving his knee into another man’s gut. The slaver bended over, wheezing, just in time for Thulani to grab his cutlass and slash his throat open.

A blade came from behind as Thulani spun, barely dodging the attack. He twisted his body, letting go of his greatsword, and drove his elbow into the attacker’s ribs. The man stumbled, and in one fluid motion, Thulani yanked the cutlass from a corpse and drove it through the slaver’s chest.

His greatsword was powerful, but his fists were just as deadly.

More came. Ten. Fifteen. The deck turned into chaos. Steel clashed. Sparks flew. Thulani weaved between strikes, using his environment to his advantage.

A slaver lunged but Thulani grabbed his wrist, twisted, and snapped the bone in half before shoving his cutlass through his throat. Another came from his side as he ducked, grabbed a loose chain, and wrapped it around the man’s neck, choking him before kicking him overboard.

Blood slicked the deck, but the fight wasn’t over.

He fought his way below deck, where the cramped corridors made wielding his greatsword difficult.

He switched tactics, using cutlasses, daggers, even his fists.

He drove a knee into a man’s stomach, flipping him over his shoulder before stomping his head into the ship’s wooden floor.

Another slaver slashed at him, but Thulani caught the blade between his palms, twisted it free, and plunged it into the man’s eye socket.

His body burned with exertion, but he pushed forward, cutting down the last few men before silence finally settled over the ship.

The only sounds that remained were the heavy breathing of freed slaves, their wide eyes staring at him in disbelief.

Thulani turned to the last door... the Captain’s Cabin.

He kicked it open.

Inside, the captain sat behind his desk, his hands trembling as he reached for a pistol. The moment his eyes landed on Thulani, they widened in horror.

”A-A SLAVE!?”

Thulani didn’t respond.

He raised his greatsword like javelin and threw it towards the Captain.

The massive blade cut through the air, impaling the captain straight through the heart, pinning him against the wooden wall. The pistol slipped from his grip, clattering uselessly onto the floor as his mouth opened in a silent scream.

And just like that, it was over.

Thulani stepped forward, gripping the hilt of his sword and yanking it free. The captain’s lifeless body slumped forward while blood pooled beneath him.

He turned to the freed slaves. Their eyes were still filled with shock, some with fear, others with hope.

”Wait here,” he ordered. His voice was firm, steady. ”Defend yourselves if anyone tries to board. Use the weapons around you. I’ll return.”

They nodded, some grabbing cutlasses from the corpses around them.

Thulani exhaled and stepped back onto the deck, the night air cool against his sweat-slicked skin.

His task was done.

Now, it was time for the next.

He leapt off the ship and stretched his muscles.

’Alaric said to go the Colston Estate after I’m done here... right?’

---

Reuben crouched on the rooftop, his black cloak blending in the night as he scanned the streets below.

He was in Easton, watching a two-story house gifted by Edward Colston to one of his top Templar allies. Modest compared to the grand estates of Bristol’s elite, but well-guarded... at least, against ordinary people.

Ten guards patrolled the perimeter while a single figure moved on the highest floor.

Reuben smirked. ’That must be my target...’

His fingers brushed against the cool steel of his throwing daggers hidden beneath his cloak. His main daggers rested at his waist, ready.

’I’m not gonna waste my time and let them sound the alarm...’

They would all die quietly.

The first guard stood near the entrance, yawning, his musket resting lazily on his shoulder.

Reuben didn’t give him a chance to react.

A throwing dagger whistled through the air and embedded itself in the guard’s throat. The man let out a choked gurgle and collapsed onto the ground as his own blood was pooling beneath him.

While that happened, Reuben was already moving.

Two more guards patrolled the side of the house. One turned the corner just as Reuben landed silently behind him. With a flick of his wrist, his dagger sliced clean through the man’s spine. The guard crumpled without a sound.

The second one had just enough time to widen his eyes before Reuben lunged. A quick slash across the throat. Blood sprayed against the wooden wall as the man collapsed.

Seven left.

’The act of killing is still making me want to throw up, but I’ll manage...’

Reuben scaled the side of the building with ease, gripping the wooden beams and pulling himself onto a narrow ledge. Two more guards stood on a balcony above, engaged in quiet conversation.

They had no idea what was going to happen.

Reuben climbed up swiftly. As soon as his boots touched the railing, he grabbed the closest guard by the chin and stabbed his dagger upward into the base of his skull. The body went limp.

The second guard barely turned before Reuben’s second dagger plunged into his chest, straight through the heart. He gripped Reuben’s wrist in shock before his strength faded, and he slumped onto the floor.

Five left.

A window was slightly open. Reuben slipped inside without a sound, landing in a dimly lit hallway as footsteps echoed from the other side.

He pressed his back against the wall as two more guards walked past. They were speaking about the recent disappearances of their fellow Templars.

”Something’s wrong. There’s no one posted outside.”

”Reckon we should—”

Reuben struck.

One dagger into the kidney, twisting before yanking it free.

The second guard barely turned before Reuben drove his second blade under his chin. The body dropped before a single sound escaped his lips.

Three left.

Reuben reached the staircase leading to the second floor. A single guard stood at the top, hands resting on the hilt of his sword. He looked alert.

Reuben grabbed another throwing dagger and flicked his wrist.

The blade buried itself between the guard’s eyes. The man twitched once before falling backward down the stairs.

Two left.

The final two guards stood outside the target’s room. They were better armored than the others, likely personal bodyguards.

Reuben knew a direct approach would be easy, but was not his style.

Instead, he retrieved a small vial from his belt, uncorked it, and poured the contents onto one of his daggers. A rare poison, courtesy of Jonathan’s pockets.

He stepped into view.

The guards tensed.

”Who the hell—”

Reuben dashed forward.

The first guard swung his sword, but Reuben ducked under the attack, slashing his poisoned dagger across the man’s exposed forearm. The second guard lunged, but Reuben sidestepped and drove his second dagger into his side.

The poisoned man staggered, his breaths turning ragged as his body shut down. The other guard groaned, blood seeping through his armor.

Reuben ended them both with two swift slashes.

None left.

The door creaked open.

Inside, a man sat at a desk, a candle flickering beside him. He was writing something, unaware of the massacre outside.

Reuben stepped forward.

The high-ranking Templar turned, eyes widening in shock. ”Who—”

Reuben didn’t give him a chance to finish.

A dagger plunged into his throat. The man’s hands grasped at his neck, blood spurting between his fingers. He made a weak, gurgling noise before slumping forward onto his desk, staining the parchment with red.

Reuben pulled his blade free, wiping it clean on the man’s coat.

His eyes scanned the room, settling on a small wooden box near the desk.

He pried it open.

Inside, glistening coins stacked neatly... gold and silver. He counted quickly.

’£69... Not bad.’

He pocketed the money and turned towards the open window.

His mission was done.

He leapt out, vanishing before the first scream could be heard.

’Now... unto the Colston Estate...’

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