Chapter 214: A Wise Choice

Who was Konrad’s closest confidant?

In this second life of his, his young children were his world; he loved them more than his own breath.

But Duke Lothar held a truly unique place in his heart.

When Konrad talked about flying machines, electricity, or moving huge metal carts on iron rails, General Richter would just laugh and ask if it could kill someone.

Margrave George would nod blindly and respectfully, treating it like witchcraft or magic. But Lothar?

Lothar did not understand everything Konrad poured into his mind, but he listened. He sat by the fire, chewing on the end of a charcoal pencil, genuinely trying to comprehend the impossible future.

As such, seeing this gentle man bound on the cold ground, bleeding from a fresh cut on his forehead, made Konrad’s blood genuinely boil.

A brutal wave of pure Swabian rage washed over him, overriding his usual calm demeanor.

"Get away from him, you cursed rat!" Konrad growled, his voice dropping into a guttural snarl.

Standing right behind Lothar’s tied-up body was a tall figure wrapped entirely in a black wool cloak.

The hood was pulled up, hiding the spy’s face in heavy shadow, but the man was holding a wicked-looking steel stiletto dagger.

In his other hand, the spy held a huge stack of rolled-up blueprints.

"King Konrad..." the spy purred. His voice was smooth, entirely calm, and carried an undeniable Spanish-Habsburg accent. "You are much faster than my employers anticipated. I was told I would have at least ten minutes while you chased those pathetic thieves in the snow."

"You have about ten seconds to drop the knife and put your hands where I can see them," Konrad said coldly. He pulled the firing hammer of his revolver back with a click. "Or I am going to blow a hole in your chest so big I can see the snowy street behind you."

The spy slowly bent down and pressed the edge of his dagger directly against the side of Lothar’s pale neck.

Lothar let out a whimper through his gag, his eyes wide with panic.

"I do not think you will shoot," the spy chuckled. "If your hand shakes even a fraction of an inch, or if my body falls forward when the bullet strikes... your favorite pet engineer gets his throat sliced open."

"Try me," Konrad spat, keeping his arm steady. "My hand never shakes."

"Perhaps," the spy replied smoothly. "But why risk it? I already have what I came for. If you let me walk out of that window, the Duke lives to draw another day. If you shoot... well, blood ruins parchment so easily, does it not?"

Konrad gritted his teeth. The spy was standing in front of the open balcony window at the back of the archives. The winter wind was howling into the room, blowing the scattered papers around their boots.

If the spy jumped, he could easily slide down the sloping slate roof and disappear into the crowded alleyways of the city.

"What do you have in your hand?" Konrad demanded, keeping the gun aimed at the spy’s hooded face. "Did you take the rifle blueprints? The traction engine designs?"

"Something much more interesting," the spy laughed, shaking the heavy roll of parchment. "Your secrets are truly fascinating, Konrad. My Emperor will pay me a mountain of gold for these."

Konrad could not risk Lothar’s life. He could build another blast furnace, he could redraw a thousand blueprints, but he could never replace a friend who actually understood the shape of the future.

"Fine," Konrad growled. He slowly lowered his revolver just an inch. "Drop the knife... Drop the knife, step away from Lothar, and you can jump out that window."

"A wise choice," the spy smirked.

The black-cloaked man slowly removed the blade from Lothar’s neck. He took a single step backward toward the open window, the freezing wind whipping his cloak around his boots.

But the spy was incredibly greedy. It was a greed that made him do something he never thought he would have the chance to do.

Instead of dropping the dagger, the spy suddenly flipped the curved blade in his hand and brutally threw it straight at Konrad’s chest!

"Curse it all!" Konrad roared, twisting his body to the side.

The throwing knife missed his heart, slicing cleanly through the charcoal wool of his coat and biting hard into the meat of his left shoulder.

Konrad grunted in pain, stumbling backward against the doorframe.

In that split second of distraction, the spy grabbed the burning gas lamp from the floor and threw it into the pile of scattered blueprints in the center of the room.

The highly flammable paper and the spilled lamp oil instantly ignited.

A huge wall of bright orange fire erupted in the middle of the grand archives. It separated Konrad from the window and from his bound friend.

The spy let out a laugh, leaping backward onto the balcony railing and disappearing into the freezing night.

"Lothar!" Konrad screamed, ignoring the burning pain in his shoulder.

Konrad charged straight through the wall of fire. The intense heat singed his hair and scorched the edges of his coat, but he tackled Lothar. He wrapped his broad body around his friend to shield him from the roaring flames.

Konrad pulled the bloody dagger out of his own shoulder, gritting his teeth against the stinging pain.

He used the sharp blade to slice through the leather straps binding Lothar’s hands and feet.

"Come on... Get up!" Konrad yelled over the roaring sound of the fire. He pulled the filthy cloth gag out of Lothar’s mouth.

Lothar gasped for air, coughing heavily as the room quickly filled with thick gray smoke.

Konrad grabbed the engineer by the back of his shirt and dragged him out of the burning room. He pulled him into the clear air of the stone hallway.

Konrad slammed the heavy oak door shut behind them. He cut off the oxygen to the fire and trapped the flames inside the room before they could spread to the rest of the palace.

He collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily and clutching his bleeding shoulder. He looked down at Lothar, who was sitting on the floor, coughing and rubbing his red wrists.

"Are you okay, Lothar?" Konrad panted, his chest heaving. "Did that bastard hurt you?"

"I... I am fine, Konrad," Lothar stammered, his chest heaving as he stared up. "Y-your shoulder! You are bleeding!"

"It is just a scratch," Konrad grunted, pushing himself back up to his feet. "He missed the bone. But he got away with the blueprints. Did you see what he took? Did he take the rifle plans?"

"N-no, Konrad," Lothar coughed. He reached into his thick coat and pulled out a neatly folded stack of parchment. "When I heard the door lock melting, I grabbed the Pattern-3 plans and hid them in my apron. I hid the artillery designs, too."

Konrad’s gray eyes widened in surprise and immense relief. "You hid them? Then what was that spy holding? I saw him with a huge stack of blueprints."

Lothar looked at the closed door of the archives. His brilliant mind tried to recall which shelf the spy had raided before Konrad kicked the door open.

"...What did he take?" Konrad demanded.

Lothar looked up, his broken spectacles making his eyes look huge in the dim hallway.

"He took the agricultural files, Konrad," Lothar stammered. "He took the chemical formulas for our winter fertilizers... and the blueprints for the subterranean coal mines."