"...We were paid silver to sneak in, grab the bags, and drop them off at the old fishing pier!"

"I see," Ragnar whispered, grabbing the boy by the collar of his coat and pulling him close. "And tell me... who gave you the keys required to open the inner doors of my most secure warehouse?"

"W-we don’t know who!" the young thief cried out. "I swear to the gods, King Ragnar... We don’t know his name. We never even saw his face!"

Ragnar tightened his grip slightly, and pulled the boy an inch away from the stones."If you don’t know who he is, then why the hell did you risk your life to steal my guns?!"

"He gave us silver!" the thief sobbed. "He found us in the slums last night. He just tossed a massive leather pouch full of pure silver coins right into my hands!"

After hearing such words, Leofric stepped forward, "You betrayed your own city for a few pieces of silver?"

"He convinced us!" the bleeding thief on the ground groaned, clutching his knee. "He told us it was just a small mission... He said it would be incredibly easy!"

"Easy?" Leofric roared, "To break into the Royal Armory?!"

"He said no one would be watching..." the young boy pleaded, "He said that because of the massive coronation festival today, every single guard, officer, and noble would be too busy drinking ale and eating meat to even care... He said the whole city would be distracted!"

"Aghh..." Ragnar groaned, finally releasing the boy’s collar and letting him drop back into the snow.

Ragnar rubbed his face, feeling a headache begin to throb right behind his eyes.

This wasn’t just a random robbery... The spy had used Prince Floki’s celebration as the distraction to bypass Leofric’s security.

And the worst part was, it had almost worked perfectly...

"Richard!" Ragnar barked, spinning around on his heel to face the red-haired marksman standing on the stone steps.

"Yes, King Ragnar?" Richard straightened up.

"Grab a dozen of your fastest men." Ragnar commanded, "Run to the barracks and get on your horses right now. I want you to ride full speed toward the old fishing port. Lock down the piers. Do not let a single boat leave the harbor!"

Richard saluted sharply, his green eyes completely focused. "Understood, my King. Should we shoot anyone who runs?"

"No, I need answers, not corpses," Ragnar ordered firmly. "Get down there and get back here with the suspicious ones."

"It will be done." Richard yelled. He quickly whistled to the remaining guards in the square, and they all sprinted off toward the royal stables, leaving deep tracks in the fresh snow.

Ragnar let out a slow breath, watching his men disappear down the street.

"Leofric," Ragnar said, not even looking. "Throw these idiots in the dungeon. Confiscate the silver. And gather up my stolen muskets before the snow rusts the firing hammers."

"I am deeply sorry, King Ragnar," Leofric said, his voice thick with shame as he ordered the remaining guards to arrest the weeping boys. "This breach happened on my watch. I will double the patrols immediately."

"Just clean up the mess, Leofric." Ragnar sighed, shaking his head.

Ragnar turned his back and slowly walked back up the steps toward the doors of the royal keep.

King Ecgberht of Northumbria and Prince Alfred of Wessex were waiting for him at the top of the stairs, having watched the entire intense interrogation in silence.

"Damn it," Ecgberht muttered, wrapping his cloak tighter around his broad shoulders. "You have spies infiltrating your own capital? I thought City Titan was completely impenetrable."

"There is no such thing as an impenetrable city, Ecgberht." Ragnar replied dryly, "If a man has enough silver and a silver tongue, he can find a rat willing to chew through any wall."

Ragnar looked at Prince Alfred. The young royal from Wessex was staring thoughtfully at the spot where the thieves had just been kneeling.

"Alfred," Ragnar called out, leaning against the doorframe.

Alfred blinked, pulling his attention away from the snowy square. "Yes, King Ragnar?"

"Tell me... what do you think should we do now?" Ragnar said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Afterward, King Ecgberht let out a laugh. "What do you mean, what should we do? You just sent your best marksman to the port to catch the bastard. We go back inside and drink some more spiced wine until Richard drags the spy back by his hair."

Alfred frowned, stepping closer to Ragnar and keeping his voice.

"With all due respect, King Ecgberht, I think King Ragnar is asking because he knows the spy will not be at the port," Alfred said.

Ragnar couldn’t help but grin. "Go on, Alfred. Tell me what you see."

"Let us look at the thieves... They were sweating, panicking, and dropping their bags in the middle of a crowded square. If you were a wealthy spy who managed to bypass the tightest security in the world... would you really trust those blubbering idiots to deliver your stolen goods?" Alfred explained, holding up one finger.

"No," Ragnar agreed, "I would expect them to get caught."

"Exactly." Alfred nodded, "The spy paid them silver to steal the bags and run through the most crowded part of the city. He wanted them to make a massive scene. He wanted the citizens to scream. He wanted your Lord Commander to rush out of the Great Hall with his guards."

"It was a distraction?" Ragnar asked.

"A brilliant one," Alfred said. "While every single guard in the upper district was staring at the thieves in the square, and while you sent your fastest horses charging toward the southern fishing port... the real spy is free to move."

Ecgberht looked between the two men. "Wait, wait! where the hell is the spy?"

If the spy didn’t care about stealing a few heavy muskets, it meant he was after something more valuable. Something light. Something that could easily be tucked into a black woolen coat.

There was only one thing in City Titan more valuable than the guns themselves.

The blueprints.

"The archives..." Ragnar whispered.

"King Ragnar?" Alfred asked. "What is it?"

"Get back in the Great Hall!" Ragnar roared at the two kings, shoving the doors open. "Lock the doors... Do not let anyone out!"

Without waiting for a response, Ragnar drew his pistol and broke into a sprint down the hallway.

"Louis!" Ragnar yelled.

He rounded the corner leading to the grand archives. The hallway was empty.

The heavy iron lock on the door had been melted off by some kind of intense acid, leaving a smoking hole in the wood.

The door was cracked slightly open, and from inside the dark room, Ragnar heard the sound of a body hitting the floor.

"Louis..." Ragnar asked the empty hallway, raising his pistol as he kicked the door wide open. "...Are you still breathing in there?"