Oddly, these words were the ones that placed a blanket of calm over his shoulders, his chin raising with a deep confidence that came from his soul as much as his mind. True enough that he wore no hood, carried no blade, but in that moment it could be no plainer that he was not a man who needed them. Years of training, decades of adversity. Both had given him complete certainty in himself, in his abilities, and in his devotion to this cause. His eyes gleamed yellow and he looked to Jacob's, unflinching.

"I am used to hard battles," he said. And then, voice quieter but heavy with steel, he went on: "The name of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad has been known and respected for years. A world apart, it will be again. We are Assassins. And we will keep the worlds free."