After hearing such words, Ragnar stared at Louis for a long moment.

He looked at the black smoke slowly seeping out from under the door of the archives.

Then, completely out of nowhere, Ragnar threw his head back and laughed.

"The agricultural blueprints?" Ragnar repeated, shaking his head. "He stabbed me in the shoulder and set my castle on fire... for some fucking farming advice?"

Though the idea of an enemy spy successfully infiltrating his royal keep made his pride burn with anger, the reality of what had just been stolen was hilarious to him.

"B-but Ragnar..." Louis cried out, confused by his friend’s reaction.

"The winter fertilizers are basically magic to them. But compared to the weapons? Compared to the muskets, the cannons, and the concrete? It is worth nothing." Ragnar chuckled, wincing slightly as the laughter pulled at his shoulder.

However, Louis didn’t seem to share his King’s relief. "But if they can mine deep-earth coal, they will eventually try to build a blast furnace... They will try to copy our steel."

"Let them try." Ragnar grinned, "You and I both know that it is not just a single blueprint, it is a massive complicated ladder."

Even so, the fact remained that an assassin had walked right into the heart of City Titan. Ragnar’s smile slowly faded into a hard scowl.

The blueprints themselves were useless to the Byzantines, but the insult to the Iron Kingdom was unacceptable.

Just then, a young servant girl wearing a simple wool dress came walking quickly down the stairs, carrying a fresh tray of silver cups for the feast.

When she turned the corner and saw the black smoke billowing from the archive door, and her King leaning against the wall covered in blood, she let out a piercing, terrified scream.

The silver tray hit the floor, sending cups rolling across the stones.

Ragnar sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose to fight off a sudden headache.

He pointed a finger at the trembling girl. "You... Stop screaming and run to the Great Hall. Tell Lord Commander Leofric to get his ass up here right fucking now! Go!"

The girl didn’t even say a word. She spun around so fast she nearly tripped over her own dress, sprinting back down the stairs toward the sounds of the celebration.

Before Louis could apologize, the thudding of armored boots echoed loudly up the stone staircase.

Lord Commander Leofric burst into the hallway, right behind him was Richard, the red-haired marksman, his musket resting against his shoulder.

When Leofric saw the blood on his King’s chest, all the color completely drained from his stern face.

"King Ragnar..!" Leofric gasped, falling to one knee right there in the hallway. "By the gods... I have completely failed you. To let an assassin get this close to the royal family... I will resign my post immediately and offer you my head."

"Oh, get up, Leofric, before I kick you," Ragnar groaned, rolling his eyes as he held the bloody handkerchief to his own shoulder. "I don’t want your head. I want you to figure out how a Byzantine rat slipped through your outer walls."

Richard stepped forward, his bright green eyes sweeping the dark hallway and the melted lock on the archive door.

"He didn’t go to the docks, King Ragnar," Richard reported, "My men locked down the entire southern port. We searched every fishing boat and cargo ship... There were no one suspicious."

"Of course he didn’t go to the docks," Ragnar gritted his teeth. "The thieves in the square were a distraction to pull you away from the keep. He probably had a fast horse waiting just outside the northern postern gate."

Leofric stood up, his face tight with shame. "Did he take the weapons, my King? Did the Byzantines steal our guns?"

"No," Louis spoke up quietly, "I managed to hide the weapon designs. The spy only escaped with the agricultural plans and the deep-earth coal mining maps. It is a massive loss of knowledge, but... they do not have the guns."

Leofric let out a sigh of relief, "Thank the gods. Farming secrets we can survive. If they had taken the formula for black powder, I would have marched my entire guard into the sea out of disgrace."

"Don’t relax just yet, Commander." Ragnar warned, leaning his back against the wall. "Emperor Basil signed a peace pact with me five months ago, begging for my cannons to fight the Arabs. And now, while I am throwing a massive feast for my vassals, he sends a rat to steal my secrets. He wants to smile in my face while holding a dagger behind his back."

"That is the Byzantine way, my King," Richard said, "They trade in shadows and quiet whispers. Should I take a squad of rangers and hunt him down? If he took the long northern road, we might still catch him before he crosses the river."

Ragnar shook his head slowly, wincing again. "No. Let him run back to his Emperor with his stolen farming tricks."

"But we cannot let this insult go unanswered." Leofric argued, "If they want a war of shadows, we should send our own assassins to Constantinople."

"We will do no such thing," Ragnar commanded, "When we respond to this betrayal, we will do it with iron and fire."

Louis adjusted his glasses, looking at the pooling blood. "...you need a physician, Ragnar. That wound is deep, and the blade might have been poisoned."

"It is just a scratch," Ragnar muttered, though his pale face betrayed him. He pushed himself off the wall, standing tall despite the pain.

He leaned on Leofric’s arm, "Where are my wife and children?"

Leofric’s eyes widened as he drew his musket.

"They were in the eastern wing," Leofric said, "Hold the King... I will go find the Queen and the children."

"Do not fear, Ragnar," Louis urged, trying to sound certain. "She must surely be down in the Great Hall with the other visiting royals. The guards are heavily protecting them."