That was not all, however. Arin had heard another rumor regarding their mysterious guest, and unlike the first story, this one was far more entertaining. Apparently, the man named Natan had become deeply involved with the assassin family without even realizing it. The mere thought of it had caused Karl to laugh for nearly an hour. Even now, Arin could still hear his grandfather's amused voice whenever he remembered the story.
"Oh, what do you mean by that?" Bertho asked immediately, his curiosity piqued.
Arin shrugged helplessly. "Sadly, I don't know enough details myself. Grandpa only mentioned that Natan somehow spent years chasing one of their organizations without realizing who was actually behind it. Apparently, the assassin family's matriarch still tells the story whenever she wants a good laugh. Grandpa said it was one of the funniest things he had heard in decades."
Bertho blinked several times.
"That sounds incredibly unfortunate for Natan."
"It probably was," Arin agreed. "Grandpa is actually disappointed that Natan will be meeting them outside their mana vein. If the meeting happened at their estate, he could have recorded the reaction for future entertainment. Apparently, seeing the truth finally click in someone's head is quite the spectacle."
Tom, however, was focused on something entirely different.
"Why do we even call them the assassin family?" he asked. "Wouldn't they have an actual surname like everyone else?"
Arin stared at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head.
"Have you seriously never looked that up?" he asked.
Unlike Tom, Arin genuinely enjoyed history. Ever since he was a child, he had spent countless evenings buried in old records and family archives. While many people viewed history as a boring collection of dates and names, Arin viewed it as one giant collection of stories. As a result, he knew far more about old factions than most people his age.
Tom merely rolled his eyes.
"Unlike you, I already have enough history forced down my throat by the family. After school I'm expected to study clan history, famous battles, old treaties, and ancient trade routes. At some point a person stops finding that enjoyable."
The others nodded sympathetically.
The Sonnenbergs took their historical education seriously. Unlike many modern schools that focused on passing examinations, the family expected its children to genuinely understand the material. That meant discussing events, explaining consequences, and learning how history influenced modern decisions. It was effective, but it also left many younger members with little enthusiasm for learning even more history in their free time.
"Fair enough," Arin admitted.
"The reason they're called the assassin family is because they trace their lineage back to the very first assassin order in recorded history. When that order eventually fell, most of its members were wiped out. However, one branch of the family survived because they had secretly established a settlement elsewhere generations earlier. That contingency plan saved their bloodline."
The group immediately sat up straighter.
Even Bertho looked interested now.
"They escaped Persia?" Bill asked.
"Exactly," Arin replied. "A secondary branch had already settled elsewhere roughly a century before the order collapsed. Their purpose was simple: ensure the family survived no matter what happened to the main organization. When the original order was destroyed, the survivors fled to that hidden settlement. Over time they became the sole remaining descendants of the original assassins."
Tom scratched his head thoughtfully.
"So they never adopted a proper surname?"
"Not exactly."
Arin sighed.
"When Napoleon forced the adoption of surnames throughout many parts of Europe, everyone believed the family was already extinct. Since nobody knew they still existed, they never received an official family name through that process. At least none that they publicly acknowledge. To this day, nobody outside their inner circle knows what name they use among themselves."
That revelation left the group silent.
After a moment, Tom frowned.
"But when we met them, they introduced themselves using surnames."
Bill immediately smacked him on the back of the head.
"You idiot."
Tom yelped.
"Obviously those names were fake. They're assassins. Their entire profession revolves around keeping their identities secret. Why would they hand out their real names to everyone they meet?"
"That actually makes a lot of sense," Bertho admitted.
For centuries the family had operated in secrecy. Governments, kingdoms, empires, and intelligence agencies had all attempted to identify them at various points in history. Most had failed. Those few who succeeded often discovered that knowing their names accomplished very little. By the time information became useful, the family had usually disappeared again.
Modern surveillance technology had not improved matters much.
In fact, several governments considered the family particularly troublesome because they continued accepting contracts in highly monitored nations. China was often cited as an example. Despite possessing one of the most extensive surveillance systems ever created, authorities still struggled to identify operatives connected to mysterious assassinations. Numerous cold cases remained unsolved despite decades of investigation.
Bill whistled softly.
"That's honestly kind of impressive."
"It is," Arin admitted. "And that's one of the reasons our families became friends. We learned an incredible amount from them."
The others immediately looked interested.
That sounded much more relevant to them.
Before meeting the assassin family centuries ago, the Sonnenbergs had already been exceptional scouts and rangers. They could track prey through dense forests, navigate difficult terrain, and survive where most people would become hopelessly lost. However, there was a difference between being difficult to find and being nearly invisible. That was where the assassin family had changed everything.
"Our ancestors helped them settle in the region," Arin explained. "We taught them how to survive in our forests, how to track people, and how to scout effectively. In return, they taught us concealment techniques that perfectly complemented our existing skills. Those lessons eventually evolved into many of the hiding methods we still use today."
Suddenly several things made sense.
The famous Sonnenberg ability to seemingly vanish into forests had always been considered unusual. Many people assumed it came entirely from their ranger traditions. In reality, part of that expertise had originated elsewhere. It was the result of centuries of shared knowledge between two ancient families.
Arin gestured toward the cloaks several recruits wore nearby.
"Those are part of it."
The group looked over.
The cloaks appeared ordinary at first glance. However, closer inspection revealed subtle patterns, carefully selected colors, and construction methods designed to break up a person's outline. They blended naturally with the surrounding environment. Even standing still for a few seconds could make someone surprisingly difficult to spot.
"The assassin family still wears theirs almost everywhere," Arin said. "Even in swamps where they're inconvenient. They believe proper concealment should become second nature."
"Sounds exhausting," Tom muttered.
"It probably is."
Still, the effectiveness could not be denied.
The cloaks themselves represented another interesting development brought about by Gaia's system. While clothing could still be purchased directly through the system shop, doing so was expensive. Each article cost at least one copper coin, which quickly added up for ordinary people and factions. As a result, traditional tailoring had experienced a massive resurgence.
Fortunately, not all technology had disappeared.
Simple mechanical knitting machines still functioned because they required direct human operation. Skilled tailors could therefore produce fabric far more efficiently than by hand alone. Even so, demand vastly exceeded supply. Entire industries were struggling to adapt to a world where advanced manufacturing had largely ceased to function beyond city limits.
The problem became even worse in regions with high mana concentrations.
Ordinary clothing deteriorated surprisingly quickly when exposed to dense mana for extended periods. Travelers who ventured too far from major settlements often discovered their clothes literally falling apart. As a result, quality handcrafted garments had become valuable trade goods. Many families now considered skilled tailors nearly as important as blacksmiths.
Arin was about to continue when a familiar voice echoed across the riverbank.
"Have you all finished gossiping yet?"
The group turned immediately.
Bernie stood at the end of the newly constructed pier, waving toward them with obvious impatience. His eyes remained fixed on the river, and a grin had spread across his face. Whatever he was seeing had clearly captured his attention.
"Get over here!" he shouted. "The ship is arriving!"
The group quickly stood.
Arin shaded his eyes and looked out across the water.
A vessel was indeed approaching.
The sight was remarkable. News reports frequently discussed merchants building ships to restore river trade, but very few had actually completed the process yet. Most projects remained stuck in planning stages due to material shortages and labor constraints. Seeing a fully operational merchant vessel this soon was genuinely surprising.
As the ship drew closer, details became visible.
Its hull appeared newly constructed. Fresh timber gleamed beneath the afternoon sunlight, and several workers moved about the deck preparing ropes and equipment. The vessel was not particularly large compared to ships from before the expansion, but it was more than sufficient for transporting goods and passengers along the river.
Arin smiled.
"Now I'm curious."
Bertho crossed his arms.
"About the merchant?"
Yes, but no.
Arin's grin widened.
"I'm curious about the guest."
Somewhere aboard that approaching vessel was Natan, the intelligence director who had unknowingly spent years fighting one of the assassin family's disposable organizations. Soon he would arrive at the Sonnenberg outpost, receive his recommendation letter, and continue toward a meeting that would likely change his understanding of the world forever.
And if Karl's laughter was any indication, the journey ahead was going to be absolutely unforgettable.