Haytham smirked as he kept walking. Of course he was unopposed in this. All the people who would have tried to stop him were already put to the knife, at the bottom of the chasm, or rightly had more important matters on their mind. The completion of this mission far outweighed the lives of their fellows. Whatever it took, he would make sure his home was safe.

Perhaps an accident could be arranged for the others in this group as well. It would look suspicious, to be sure, be he wasn't about to die in this world. Not without a fight.

He felt a twitch run through him. A sense of vertigo at the edge of the cliffside. A sensation ran through him akin to feeling of hearing the last words of someone he had to put down.

'You're a bastard. You're not worth your father's name. I don't know what he was to you, but he was a good man and I can't believe you'd just cast him aside so easily.

You'll get what's coming to you. You and any other Templars I meet will pay for your crimes.'

Haytham smirked as the voice came and went. Just his imagination. Or even if it was not, there was nothing it could do. "Perhaps. Or perhaps your fellows are finally getting what they deserve." He said under his breath.

Looking back, he waved his hands to the others left alive, "Come on! We must be off! We have ground to make up and not much time to do so." And so he turned and ran off deeper into the ruins.