System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 171: Chapter 170: ”And I will do whatever it takes to protect them.”

[Current Balance: 4,755,411,970,700 Mon]

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High above the clouds, Alaric sat on Emberis’s back, the world a distant, hazy map below. They had left the Wokou fortress far behind, the Yellow Sea giving way to the rugged, mountainous coastline of the Korean peninsula.

As they approached the mainland, Alaric could see the capital city of Hanseong nestled in a valley, a sprawling city of dark-tiled roofs and whitewashed walls, surrounded by a formidable stone fortress line.

From this great height, it looked peaceful, orderly. A city going about its day.

But Alaric felt a deep, profound wrongness.

His Mind’s Eye of the Kagura, which he had kept passively active, was screaming at him. It wasn’t just the faint, lingering stain he had felt in Nagasaki or Edo.

This was different.

This was an active, suffocating psychic miasma that blanketed the entire city. It felt like trying to breathe foul, stagnant air, a discordant, oppressive hum that grated against his very soul. Every mind below was touched by it, their individual energies muted, moving in a strange, unsettling harmony, like a chorus singing a single, monotonous note.

”The pollution here is absolute,” Emberis’s voice echoed in his mind, sharp and clear. The phoenix had felt it too, its own ancient senses repulsed by the unnatural spiritual corruption. ”Every living mind below is... tethered. Their wills are not their own. What are you going to do, Kenway?”

Alaric didn’t answer immediately. He stared down at the seemingly peaceful city, at the thousands of people moving through its streets, completely unaware of the invisible chains that bound their minds. He saw farmers tending their fields, merchants setting up their stalls, children playing in the courtyards.

All of them, puppets.

”...Yeah, if push comes to shove,” Alaric finally replied, his voice quiet, his gaze never leaving the city below. ”I’ll just kill them all.”

Emberis banked slightly, its golden eyes turning to look at the man on its back. There was no judgment in its gaze, only a deep, ancient curiosity.

”You can sacrifice tens of thousands of innocent people to save your cousin?” the phoenix asked, its mental voice was a simple, direct question. ”Can you do that?”

”...”

Alaric was silent for a long moment, the wind whipping through his platinum hair. A slow, humourless chuckle escaped his lips.

”Heh... there are no innocent people in this world, Emberis,” he said, his voice was a low, almost bitter sound. ”Even kids bully others. What humans have are just selfish desires. They want power, they want wealth, they want security. Caroline is just offering them a twisted version of it, and they are accepting it, whether they know it or not.”

”Even you?” Emberis questioned, its voice was still flat and neutral.

Alaric finally turned his head, looking at the magnificent crimson bird. A genuine, almost sad smile touched his lips.

”Yeah,” he said softly. ”Even me. I want my family safe. I want Kassandra by my side. I want to live my life without ghosts from the past or tyrants from the future dictating my path. Those are my selfish desires.”

He turned his gaze back to the city, his expression hardening, the earlier melancholy replaced by a cold, absolute resolve.

”And I will do whatever it takes to protect them.”

He patted the phoenix’s neck. ”Take me down, my friend. Right into the heart of it.”

Emberis let out a single, piercing cry that seemed to cut through the oppressive psychic atmosphere. It folded its massive wings and dove.

They descended from the heavens like a crimson comet. The clouds parted around them. The city rushed up to meet them. Alaric’s target was clear: the grandest, most opulent structure in the entire city, Gyeongbok Palace, the seat of the Joseon King.

He didn’t aim for the gates or a quiet courtyard.

He aimed for the very top.

As they plummeted, Alaric leaped from Emberis’s back. The phoenix pulled up at the last second, soaring back into the clouds, a silent promise to return if needed.

Alaric, however, continued his descent, a man falling from the sky. He gathered chakra into his feet and legs, preparing for the impact.

BOOOOOOM!

He hit the roof of the main throne hall like a meteor.

The ornate, beautifully crafted blue tiles exploded upwards in a shower of shattered ceramic and splintered wood. The massive roof beams, timbers that had stood for centuries, cracked and groaned under the impossible force of his landing. The entire building shuddered, a deep tremor running through its foundations.

Alaric landed in a crouch in the center of the massive hole he had created, dust and debris raining down around him. He slowly stood up, dusting off his crimson coat, and looked down into the throne room below.

The scene was exactly as he had pictured it. Caroline sat on the Phoenix Throne, the Apple of Eden in her lap. The enthralled King Sukjong sat beside her. And the entire royal court stood frozen, their blank faces turned upwards, staring at the man who had just fallen from the sky and smashed a hole in their sacred ceiling.

For a fraction of a second, there was a stunned, absolute silence.

And then, Caroline’s trap sprung.

It was instantaneous. It was overwhelming.

From hidden panels in the ornate walls, from behind tapestries, from alcoves he hadn’t even noticed, dozens of cannons were revealed. Not the slow, cumbersome naval guns he was used to, but smaller, more agile swivel guns, all pre-aimed at the center of the room.

On the balconies overlooking the throne room, hundreds of royal guards appeared, their muskets already leveled, a forest of iron barrels glinting in the light streaming through the hole in the roof.

From every doorway, the palace’s elite guards surged into the room, their curved swords drawn, forming a tight, impenetrable ring around the dais.

The entire palace had come alive. It wasn’t a defense; it was an execution chamber. Every angle was covered, every escape route sealed. This trap had been laid with meticulous precision, designed for one purpose: to kill an impossibly powerful individual with overwhelming, instantaneous firepower.

Caroline stood up from the throne, a cold, triumphant smile on her face. The Apple in her hand pulsed with a malevolent light.

”You... you should not have come here, Alaric,” she said, her voice echoing in the suddenly tense throne room.

Alaric looked around at the hundreds of guns aimed at him, at the sea of swords surrounding him. He looked at Caroline, at the cold, hard certainty in her eyes.

A slow, dangerous grin spread across his face.

”FIRE!” Caroline screamed, her voice filled with a mixture of triumph and fear.

The world erupted in a deafening roar of fire and thunder.

.

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