[Current Balance: £419,516,560 4s. 2d.]
---
Months had passed in a whirlwind of activity and adjustment. The Kenway clan, along with their extensive household and newfound allies, had finally relocated from the relative modesty of Pennsbury Manor to the impossible grandeur of their new home.
The Baroque mansion, which the staff had started calling "Kenway Keep," was no longer just a structure; it was a busy, self-contained community, a sanctuary carved out of the Pennsylvanian wilderness.
Life within its indestructible walls settled into a new rhythm. The initial shock of the mansion's sheer scale and impossible construction had faded into a comfortable, daily awe. People no longer questioned the ever-flowing water or the lights that glowed without candle or flame; they simply accepted it as part of the strange, miraculous reality that came with being under Alaric Kenway's protection.
Shakoka, the Iroquois warrior, had made his decision. After witnessing the complete and total recovery of his younger brother, Deganawida, who was now a healthy, babbling toddler adored by the women of the household, he had formally pledged his loyalty to Alaric. He saw the Kenway estate not as a gilded cage, but as a place of true strength and unexpected kindness, a community where a man was judged not by his tribe or the color of his skin, but by his character.
Alaric, of course, had accepted his pledge with a gracious smile and a warm welcome. Privately, however, his motivations were a complex blend of genuine compassion and cold, long-term strategy. Yes, he was a benevolent man… a joke he often told himself with a wry smirk. But more importantly, he saw in Shakoka not just a grateful warrior, but a future leader.
Through subtle conversations and observations, aided by the unerring perception of his Mind's Eye of the Kagura, Alaric had confirmed his initial assessment: Shakoka was intelligent, honorable, and possessed a natural charisma that could one day unite his scattered people. The life-debt he now held was a powerful, unbreakable bond, an anchor for the influence Alaric intended to build among the Iroquois tribes.
Yes, Shakoka and his brother were outcast… or one of them, but if there's a will then there's a way.
The days were filled with training. Alaric, having seen the necessity of a capable fighting force, had reinstated the grueling regimen he had started months prior.
Every able-bodied person on the estate, from the Auditore Assassins to the youngest footmen, participated. He excluded his parents and his aunt and uncle from the most intense combat drills, focusing their training on self-defense and physical conditioning, but everyone else was forged in the fire of his clones' relentless instruction.
He had also begun the process of awakening their chakra. One by one, he guided the core group… Leonard, Bernard, Eleanor, Linette, Caroline, Thulani, Reuben, Jonathan, and Shakoka… through the same meditative process he had used with Kassandra, injecting a sliver of his own energy to help them find the dormant spring within themselves.
They were all quick studies, their enhanced bodies making them highly receptive, but it was Shakoka who truly excelled. The Iroquois warrior had a natural, intuitive connection to the flow of life energy, his control advancing at a rate that surprised even Alaric.
Amidst all this, Alaric realized they needed more space. The mansion was vast, but his plans were vaster. He needed land for expansion, for the houses he intended to build for his friends, for the future of their growing community. And for that, he needed to have another conversation with the province's proprietor.
---Flashback---
William Penn was enjoying a quiet lunch with his wife, Hannah, in the sunlit dining room of Pennsbury Manor. The meal was simple, the conversation pleasant. It was a rare moment of peace, which was, of course, the exact moment Alaric chose to appear.
He didn't teleport this time, simply arriving by carriage and letting himself in, walking into the dining room as if he owned the place, which, in a way, he financially could have… but didn't have to since Penn treated him like a younger brother. He pulled up a chair, nodded a polite greeting to a slightly startled Hannah, and began piling food onto a spare plate.
Penn sighed, setting down his fork. He had known Alaric long enough to recognize the signs. "...Dost thou not eat lunch with thy wife?" he asked, his tone dry.
Alaric, his mouth full of roasted chicken, looked up and nodded. "Yeah, usually."
"So..." Penn paused, a knowing look in his eyes. "Thou art not one to simply appear out of nowhere for a social call. Thou either plans to do something, or thou art here to ask for something."
Alaric swallowed, took a long drink of water, and then flashed a charming, almost cheeky smile. "...Y'know I have a lot of people at the mansion, right?"
"...Yes?" A single one of Penn's eyebrows rose.
"So," Alaric said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "I need a small plot of land. Can you give me some?"
"A small plot of land?" Penn's other eyebrow joined the first. "How small? The same as before?"
"Yea... no," the blonde smiled. "That's too small. I need a little bigger than that... about twenty times the size."
"HUH!?"
Penn choked, a piece of bread going down the wrong way. He coughed violently, his face turning a shade of red that clashed horribly with his simple Quaker attire. Hannah patted his back with concern. When he finally recovered, he stared at Alaric, his eyes wide with disbelief. "L-Lad... art thou serious? Why in God's name dost thou need that much land?"
"I mean, I plan to build houses for Reuben and Flavia as a wedding gift, you know, things like that. Thulani and Aveline, too," Alaric explained with the nonchalant air of a man discussing the weather. "You know how much I adore those guys. I approve of their marriages."
Sigh.
Penn stared at Alaric for a long moment, then down at his half-eaten plate. He folded his arms, closing his eyes as if in deep, painful contemplation. The silence stretched.
"...Alright," Penn sighed finally, opening his eyes. A shrewd, calculating glint had replaced the shock. "Five hundred thousand pounds."
"HALF A MILLION POUNDS!?" Alaric leaped from his seat, his eyes wide with theatrical shock. He stood there for a dramatic second, then just as quickly, he sat back down, a casual chuckle escaping him. "Sure."
"What was that first reaction, then, kid?" Penn grinned, sensing a victory. "Thou art not so rich after all?"
"Huh? I said sure," Alaric grinned back, his own eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'll just throw in an extra hundred thousand, just to flex."
"..." Penn was speechless. He knew Alaric was wealthy beyond comprehension, but the sheer, unadulterated boastfulness of the boy was still staggering. He let out a long, defeated sigh. "Well," he muttered, shaking his head. "I shall accept the money, then."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Hmm..."
"Okay, kid," Penn finally said, leaning forward again. "When art thou going to give me the money?"
"Now."
---Flashback End---
[Money Withdrawal: £500,000]
[Current Balance: £419,016,560 4s. 2d.]
After paying for the surrounding lots, it took quite a while for Penn to set everything up. Alaric told Penn to no longer have it in discreet, it didn't matter anyway, Alaric already placed fuinjutsu in all the perimeters so that anyone with bad intentions will never ever find the place. No one knew aside from Penn and Kassandra that Alaric bought the huge plot of land, Kassandra was so shocked at first but accepted it, maybe her husband was just that rich.
Throughout Kassandra's long life, she never truly yearned for a strong and capable man.
She was strength incarnate. She didn't need saving.
From the day she first gripped a blade, she carved her place into history with blood and fire. She faced gods, monsters, tyrants. She lived through empires crumbling and nations reborn. And along the way, yes... she had known companionship.
There was Natakas... the man who once shared her journey. He had been quiet where she was bold, steady where she was storm. He loved her gently, without pride or demand. Their time together was peaceful, brief, and full of stolen warmth.
He was a harbor... a place to rest, to breathe, to feel human again.
But Alaric...
Alaric was not a harbor.
He was the wind that filled her sails, the storm that shook her bones, the fire that reignited everything she thought she had already burned out.
With Natakas, she found a partner.
With Alaric, she found an equal... and more terrifyingly, a mirror.
Where Natakas followed, Alaric stood beside her... or was the one to lead.
Where Natakas offered comfort, Alaric offered challenge.
Where Natakas calmed the chaos, Alaric thrived in it... and showed her that she could too.
Natakas admired her strength. Alaric embraced it. He pushed it, tested it, sharpened it. He trained with her not to protect her, but to compete with her, to rise with her, to burn alongside her.
Natakas offered safety.
Alaric offered freedom.
He gave her choices. He never tried to shield her from the fight... he handed her the sharpest blade and asked, "Will you stand with me?"
Natakas was predictable. Solid. A quiet kind of love. The kind you think you'll grow old with.
But Alaric...
He was life in its rawest form. Passionate, volatile, brilliant, infuriating. A man stitched together with secrets, scars, and relentless ambition… but who laid himself bare for her in moments that no one else saw.
He laughed in the face of kings and all kinds of threats, but went quiet when she looked at him with tired eyes. He held the weight of a world-ending power, but dropped everything to kiss her forehead in the dark.
And somehow, beneath all of that… despite all the madness of who he was... he made her feel safe in a way she never had before. Not because she needed protection, but because for once… she didn't have to carry everything alone.
No other man ever gave her that.
Not even Natakas.
What Natakas was... which was stable, kind, loyal... Alaric was more.
He was more alive. More daring. More broken, maybe. But also more willing to let her see every piece.
She didn't fall for Alaric because he was powerful. She fell for him because, somehow, in a world where she had always stood apart, he reached her anyway.
And now, every glance, every whispered plan, every breathless moment between battles...
She didn't just want him.
She ached for him.
Because Alaric wasn't just someone she loved.
He was the one who made her feel everything again.
.
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