Fate

"What's wrong, Shaya?"

A voice from the side pulled Shaya from his memories. It came from the flames burning in the hearth, which had sprouted a pair of eyes and a mouth and were looking at him in puzzlement.

That was Cassifa, the Fire Demon the old man had mentioned.

"Nothing. Just thinking about something," Shaya said.

"What Fate did you give him?" Cassifa asked curiously.

"One belonging to an Assassin from the Renaissance," Shaya murmured.

It was not that he pitied the Fate he had given Heilang. After all, his heart was no longer in his body.

His control over Fate would gradually strengthen through its weaving, which was beneficial to him. So, he did not mind lending a hand.

The template Shaya had used for the Fate he placed upon Heilang came from Ezio in Assassin's Creed.

His family had likewise been harmed by a powerful force, and he had ultimately completed his revenge.

Shaya felt that his story had some compatibility with Heilang's, so he merged them together.

The old man called Fate had indeed simplified the use of Fate Power for Shaya.

If he started weaving Fate from scratch, it would consume an enormous amount of time and effort, and he would need to account for countless variables.

To weave a Fate like the one he had just given Heilang, with his current abilities, would take at least one or two years.

The old man had directly made Shaya a simple, foolproof system. As long as he entered the various requirements, it would fill in the details for him.

This allowed him to directly apply the Fates of various characters and stories from his memories, making things much more convenient.

The reason the character in that template could successfully take revenge was because of the Assassin training he had received and the special bloodline flowing through him.

And the Assassin training he received had come from his uncle.

Shaya had two options: he could use Fate Power to give Heilang an uncle with an Assassin identity and have him teach the boy those skills.

But that would be like putting laxatives in Biden's coffee—completely unnecessary.

So, Shaya made himself bear that Fate and took responsibility for teaching him that Assassin knowledge.

But Shaya obviously did not know any Assassin techniques, which was where Fate Power had to manifest them.

However, giving himself those memories and then teaching them to Heilang would waste unnecessary time.

So, Shaya directly applied that portion of Fate Power to Heilang, creating the extra memories Heilang now possessed.

Shaya still did not know those Assassin techniques. His existence merely gave those "memories" a reasonable "explanation."

The amount of Fate Power Shaya could currently draw upon was limited. To conserve it, he used his own magic to create the Assassin outfit and Hidden Blade—the things he had just handed to Heilang.

Hal often made magical tools for the royal family, so after inheriting Hal's Fate, making such things was not difficult for him.

He only needed to place an Aura Concealment Spell on the existing clothes.

He had also learned the Hidden Blade's blueprints through Fate Power, so he could make it with some iron and alchemy.

Beyond that, he had not fully manifested the Assassin Bloodline either.

Because the template's world was not purely medieval.

Its broader setting included the First Civilization.

In that worldview, the Greek and Norse myths of humanity were all stories about that civilization.

In the story, humanity had been created by members of that civilization, and things such as the Apple of Eden, which could control people's minds, had also been created by them.

The so-called Assassin Bloodline was actually the bloodline of that civilization. Eagle Eye came from that bloodline.

If all those things were manifested, the consumption would be secondary. It would introduce too many unnecessary variables.

Besides, this world had neither Templars nor a Brotherhood. Where this Fate would ultimately lead Heilang, even Shaya could not be completely certain.

After all, it was only a template.

"Is he very powerful?" Cassifa asked.

"That depends on your definition of powerful. To ordinary people, he is," Shaya said.

"But his enemies don't seem to be ordinary people. They all have guns," Cassifa said.

"The guns of this era aren't something to worry about too much."

As he spoke, Shaya walked toward the table behind him.

"It still lacks a sufficiently brutal war."

Most firearms of this era were flintlocks. Not only were they inaccurate, but they could not fire repeatedly, often misfired, and did little damage.

There was a plate on the dining table, and on it sat half a sliced loaf of toast. It had already been there when he acquired the castle. There had originally been bacon and eggs as well, but Shaya had eaten them earlier.

Just as he was about to pick up the knife and fork beside it and cut off a piece for tonight's dinner, he discovered an enormous cockroach crawling across it. Its two antennae swayed as though it were greeting Shaya.

Shaya's expression stiffened slightly.

Several dishes sat on the other side of the table, and nearly all of them were coated in thick grease. The same was true of the knife and fork; they looked as though they had not been cleaned in a very long time.

He raised his head and looked around. The room was small and somewhat dim, but he could still see cobwebs and layers of old dust.

Shaya looked toward a dark corner. In his hometown, there was a saying: when you see one cockroach, there may already be so many hidden in the dark that they are crowded together.

He did not doubt that a considerable number of cockroaches, rats, spiders, and other creatures that preferred darkness were hiding in there.

"It really didn't need to manifest things this clearly," Shaya complained.

The original owner of the Fate he had inherited had been someone meticulous in public yet utterly careless in private. And this was only the tip of the iceberg within this castle.

Shaya was not exactly a clean freak, but neither was he sloppy. To him, the state of cleanliness in this castle had already exceeded the limits of what a normal person could tolerate.

Shaya sighed and raised his hand. The bread and cockroach flew together into the flames. Cassifa opened a gaping maw made of fire, swallowed them in one bite, and chewed with wet smacking sounds.

Then, Shaya set down the knife. He had completely lost his appetite.

"This castle really needs a cleaning lady."

"But hiring a cleaning lady costs money. Do you have any?" Cassifa asked.

Shaya nodded. "That is indeed a problem. Food costs money too, and there's no food left in the castle."

"You should ask that guy for some payment," Cassifa said.

"I'll collect his payment later," Shaya said.

"Why not just conjure some money and spend it?"

"That would only be an illusion. Once the magic power on it fades, it would become worthless paper," Shaya said.

"What does that matter?" Cassifa asked.

Shaya looked at Cassifa and said calmly.

"To use magic, one must follow the rules of magic, just like the contract between you and me.

The human world is the same. If you want to live in human society, you must also follow certain unwritten rules."

"You're rather kind," Cassifa said.

Shaya raised his brows and nodded. "That is true, but it has nothing to do with good or evil. The abuse of magic leads to magic going out of control, and human nature is the same."

Cassifa blazed fiercely and crackled. "You seem to know a lot. You don't resemble someone your age at all."

"Have you met many people?" Shaya asked with a smile.

"At least, that's how it is in the memories I possess."

Shaya smiled and did not continue explaining.

When your college entrance exam score was high enough to reach certain three-digit universities, yet low enough that you could not get into any popular major at those schools, you would encounter some obscure fields of study.

Like the sociology Shaya had studied.

Sociology had seven founding fathers. Four were rich second-generation heirs, while two never had to worry about food or clothing. That alone probably told you what kind of discipline it was.

Although they studied Marxism-Leninism every day, it had little to do with entering the system. Its job prospects were practically nonexistent. Its only advantage was that it covered a lot, broadened one's horizons, and made one articulate.

Through the window, Shaya saw the street outside. The Imperial Capital had only just endured a bitter winter. After a light rain, the breeze flowing through the city carried a trace of chill. People on the streets wrapped their clothes tighter around themselves and quickened their pace, eager to return to warm homes.

The flames in the hearth before him kept out the cold trying to creep in through the window.

After thinking for a moment, he picked up the coat beside him and headed for the stairs.

"I'm going out for a bit."

"What are you going to do?" Cassifa asked.

"Have dinner outside," Shaya said.

"But don't you have no money?"

"I have magic, don't I?" Shaya teased.

"I'm sure the kind and wealthy noble lords of the Imperial Capital won't have the heart to turn away such a handsome and pitiful foreigner as me."

Cassifa fell silent for a moment. "I don't understand you humans, but is this what you call 'following the rules'?"

"Rules are made on the premise that you've eaten your fill," Shaya said solemnly.

"Besides, those noble lords are a bunch who love breaking rules. Breaking rules always comes with a price, doesn't it?"

"Like providing you with a dinner?" Cassifa remarked.

"Remember not to let anyone in," Shaya said with a smile.

"Don't worry. Without my permission, not even the Wilderness Witch can enter," Cassifa said confidently.

"Only that person would be looking for me anyway," Shaya murmured.

With a click, the front door shut behind him. He raised his head and looked at the foreign streets. A light rain had just fallen, leaving the city alleys shrouded in mist. Yet even so, a faint smell of kerosene lingered in the air.

Shaya's eyes grew slightly dazed. At that moment, he finally gained a real sense that he had crossed into another world.

Although he did intend to go out and find something to eat, those earlier words had naturally only been meant to tease Cassifa. His main reason for leaving was to follow Heilang.

This was his first time weaving Fate. He needed to observe it in order to confirm how Fate Power operated.

Night had already fallen, and there were few people on the streets. Occasionally, one or two carriages passed by. The light from the kerosene lamps was dim, and visibility was even worse beneath the post-rain fog.

The silent city carried a biting chill that raised goosebumps, making one involuntarily think of old London legends like Jack the Ripper.

Then Shaya found the thought amusing and shook his head.

He had only just arrived in this world and did not know its exact circumstances, but this was still the Imperial Capital. No matter how bad public safety was, it was impossible to casually run into some criminal case.

Shaya's smile froze.

At the end of the street, two shabbily dressed men were slowly walking toward him. They stopped before Shaya, idly playing with a knife in their hands as a strong stench of alcohol hit his nose.

With vicious looks in their eyes, they lowered their voices and snarled at him.

"Don't make a sound. Come with us into the alley."

Shaya cooperatively shrugged.

At that moment, a sharp rebuke rang out from somewhere.

"Hey! What are you doing!? Aren't you afraid of the Secret Investigation Department!?"

Hearing that, the two men turned toward the source of the voice in annoyance.

Because of the recent rain and sudden drop in temperature, there was hardly anyone on the street. However, at the far end of the road, a rather refined and luxurious carriage was stopped by the roadside.

A middle-aged woman dressed as a maid stood beside the carriage, looking in their direction. A burly coachman stood nearby as well.

The men's expressions changed, and their drunkenness vanished in an instant.

In the Imperial Capital, anyone with such a carriage and entourage was either a noble or a high-ranking official. Neither was someone they could afford to provoke.

Without hesitation, the two drunkards fled in panic, their footsteps unsteady.

Shaya considered for a moment, then slowly walked toward the carriage.

"Thank you very much for speaking up for me, madam."

"Don't thank me. Thank my lady. She was the one who told me to help you," the maid said.

At that, Shaya looked toward the carriage. Soon, a voice came from within, clear yet fragile, like delicate glass.

"Be more careful when you go out in the future. These past few years, there have been more and more idle hooligans like this in the Imperial Capital."

"Do you know why that is?" Shaya asked.

The person in the carriage fell silent briefly before saying, "You're from out of town, aren't you? You came to the Imperial Capital looking for opportunities?"

"Yes," Shaya answered.

"Most of the people wandering the streets came to the Imperial Capital from elsewhere looking for opportunities. Let me advise you: leave this place. If you have land, then tend to it properly."

After saying that, the maid took a pocket watch from her person and checked the time. Then, she leaned toward the carriage and spoke quietly.

"Your Highness, the banquet is about to begin."

"Let's go," the person inside the carriage said.

The coachman tapped the horse with his whip. The steed let out a long neigh and stepped forward. As the carriage began moving, its curtain swayed.

Shaya quietly watched the carriage depart. Then, as if sensing something, he suddenly took a step back and concealed himself beneath the shadow of the eaves.

Across the street, two people dressed in coachmen's clothing appeared to be searching for something. Their eyes were covered by blindfolds, making them seem particularly strange.

Soon, they locked onto the departing carriage and slowly followed behind it.

Those two were not human. They were magic—or rather, the Wilderness Witch's magic.

"What are you looking at, Shaya?" Cassifa's voice echoed in the depths of Shaya's heart.

"I'm looking at Fate," he murmured.