[Current Balance: £2,300,569 9s. 9d.](73,618,224R)
---
As everyone split up to their respective targets, Alaric walked through the quiet streets of Bristol.
Despite being a city, Bristol at night was empty and silent. No street lamps, no artificial glow... just the faint flicker of candlelight through windows and the occasional torch-lit alley.
'I mean, it ain't 21st century...'
He glanced up. The sky stretched wide and open, the stars were shining without obstruction. Alaric always admired the view of the sky and celestial bodies at night as every constellation stood out, clear and bright.
'I should summon Emberis here once in a while… the phoenix would probably love it.'
His steps slowed as he reached his destination. A modest, well-kept house stood before him, blending into the row of homes along Hawklins Lane.
This was where Emmett Scott was hiding.
Alaric cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders as a smirk played on his lips. A window could be seen open as a familiar signature could be felt.
"Now… let's play a little game..."
*PUFF*
---
Emmett was inside his office, drinking tea while checking some papers and signing some contracts.
Today had been terrible for him. He waited until dawn and there were no fire that could be seen within the upper side of Clifton. He also didn't receive any news from the men he and his other Templar allies sent.
A few hours ago, they held a Templar meeting and everyone showed signs of distress. Even if losing fifty men within Bristol wasn't a significant amount, losing them in a simple mission was considered odd... if not, impossible.
Edward Colston and the other high-ranked Templars pressured Emmett into finding out what's going on. However, they didn't even need to pressure him as Emmett too wanted to know what the hell is going on.
'How could FIFTY men disappear without a word from the Kenway Estate?' Emmet thought as paused from his work. 'It's mind boggling... is there some kind of military protecting that Estate?'
'Did the men took their chance on leaving after receiving the pay upfront?' He continued, staring at a wall. 'Even Tom, Julian, and Wilson... did they betray me too? Or did they die there? I'm losing my mind!'
He gripped his quill pen as he grit teeth and threw the pen towards the wall.
"..."
Not hearing a single bounce, he raised his head only to widen his eyes as a man wearing a Templar uniform could be seen.
"Who..." Emmett trailed as he could now clearly see the man's face.
The man had black hair, and a moustache. "You know... it's waste throwing away such fine quill pen, you mind if I keep it?"
"Who are you?" Emmet furrowed his brows. "How come someone as lowly as a Templar guard breaking his way inside my house!?"
"Calm down, will ya? Yelling won't help you," The Templar guard grinned as he walked towards Emmett.
*BANG*
The door to Emmett's office opened loudly as a women could be seen.
"Honey, I heard screaming... what's going on!? Who is that!?" Elizabeth, Emmett's wife and Caroline's mother, became alerted while Emmett and the man turned their heads towards her.
"Oh? This is a nice setup," The man smirked as he turned his head back towards Emmett. "As to why I'm here... the Order's upset with you."
"...Upset? I've donated a huge portion of my wealth for the cause, and the Order is upset!?" Emmett yelled as he balled his fist. "I've offered most of my life for the Templar Order, and they're upset!?"
"Hmm... what do I know? I'm just someone they sent," The man shrugged, then suddenly slammed his boot against the desk.
CRASH!
The heavy wooden desk lurched forward, barreling into Emmett before he could react. His eyes widened in shock as it rammed into his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs and pinning him against the wall.
"AARGH!" Emmett screamed in agony, his bones creaking under the weight of the impact.
Elizabeth gasped, horror flashing in her eyes. "EMMETT!"
She took a step forward, but fear rooted her to the spot.
Emmett panted heavily, struggling to push the desk off, but his arms trembled... weak, useless against the force crushing him. He lifted his head, eyes pleading. "P-Please… don't touch me…"
The man chuckled, stepping closer.
Elizabeth's voice cracked as she begged, "Please! D-Don't kill him! I—I'll do anything!"
But the man didn't stop. Instead, his face began to change. Skin shifting, bones contorting. Emmett's breath hitched as the features twisted and reshaped into something familiar.
Someone familiar.
His pupils shrank in terror. His lips trembled.
"Y-You…"
CRACK!
A brutal fist smashed into Emmett's face, his head snapping back.
Before he could even slump forward, a sharp, precise motion followed a swift, horizontal slash across his throat. Not with a blade, but with the man's own hand. Blood sprayed as Emmett let out a garbled gasp, his body convulsing for a second before going limp.
Elizabeth's shriek tore through the room.
The man... no, Alaric... stepped back, letting his face morph once more, concealing his identity. He turned to the sobbing woman, his expression unreadable.
"…I'm sorry," he said, voice quiet. "It's nothing personal."
And with that, he leapt toward the open window, vanishing into the night.
Elizabeth collapsed to the floor, her body shaking. She tried to breathe, but each breath felt like a struggle. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her chest, her vision blurred.
She muttered, almost inaudibly.
"Templars... Order…"
---
Despite Alaric jumping outside the window, he didn't really run away. He just left the poor Elizabeth alone on the second floor as he had other plans.
Stepping lightly across the damp grass, he circled back to the front of the house, his boots making almost no sound against the cobblestone path. This time, he entered through the door.
Inside, the house was silent. Not the comforting kind, but the tense, eerie quiet of a place that had just witnessed death. Elizabeth was still upstairs, likely in shock, while the servants, frozen in fear, remained in their quarters. None of them would dare to move... not after hearing Emmett's final scream.
Alaric closed his eyes for a moment. He could sense the presence of every soul inside the house, but they were irrelevant. His focus was on something else.
"Now… where could it be…?"
His gaze swept the grand interior, past the polished furniture and gilded paintings. Emmett was a high-ranking Templar and a very wealthy Tea Merchant, which meant one thing: money. Lots of it. And it had to be stored somewhere secure.
Then, his eyes landed on a door. A simple wooden one, but one that seemed oddly out of place among the lavish decor.
"Bingo."
He approached and pulled it open, revealing a narrow stairway leading downward. The air grew cooler as he descended, the scent of damp stone filling his lungs.
Reaching the bottom, he was greeted by the sight of a massive iron vault. Thick, reinforced, and secured with multiple locks.
A normal man would have struggled to break in.
However, this was Alaric.
Rolling his shoulders, he stepped forward, placing both hands on the heavy locks. With a slight surge of chakra, his fingers dug into the metal. Then, with a sharp snap, he tore them off like they were made of paper. The locks clattered to the ground, useless.
He smirked, grabbed the vault handle, and pulled it open.
WHOOOOSH
The dim basement light reflected off a sight that would make any common man weep. Stacks of massive gold bars lined the walls. Wooden chests, no doubt filled with thousands of pounds, sat in neat rows. And in the corner, an entire shelf dedicated to an extravagant tea collection, some of which likely cost more than an average family's yearly earnings.
Alaric let out a low whistle.
"Well… of course... he's rich."
Shaking his head, he stepped forward and began touching everything in sight, selling off the tea collection and transferring the bulk of the money into his system.
[+ £85,000]
[Current Balance: £2,385,569 9s. 9d.](76,338,224R)
As he finished, he glanced at the remaining wealth, his expression thoughtful.
"Let's leave some for Elizabeth and Aveline… I can't leave them both moneyless just because Emmett was a bad husband and father."
Satisfied, he turned on his heel and strode out of the basement, closing the vault door behind him, not that it mattered anymore.
Exiting the house with an extra £85,000 to his name, he stretched his arms as he yawned.
"Edward Colston, here I come."
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