"Leave?!" Rudolf roared, pointing an accusing finger at the Norseman. "What the fucking hell do you mean, leave? Our deal was very explicit. You swore to remain in my castle as a mandatory guest of honor. You are my hostage!"

"Damnit, Rudolf, don’t be a baby." Hakon laughed. "The Franks are gone. They won’t dare march on your walls again until the Emperor builds bigger guns, and that will take him months."

"A deal is a deal!" Rudolf argued stubbornly, gripping the hilt of his sword.

"I am leaving you the cannons, the single-shot muskets, and the ships to guard the river," Hakon stated firmly, dropping the playful tone for just a second to show he wasn’t asking for permission. "And more importantly, I am leaving you my best engineers."

Hakon grabbed a nearby Viking engineer by the shoulder, "This man and his crew are going to change your miserable kingdom," Hakon explained proudly. "They will show your blacksmiths how to work the hard steel. They will teach your peasants new ways to farm the frozen mud so your people don’t starve. Hell, they will even teach your royal cooks how to make highly nutritious soups that don’t taste like old leather boots!"

"Soups?" Rudolf blinked, caught off guard by the sudden culinary promise.

"Yes, soups!" Hakon grinned wickedly. "Clean soups and proper soaps! You are getting an absolute bargain, Rudolf. Now, be a good King, lock your gates, and wait for Ragnar’s next shipment."

Without waiting for another argument, Hakon grabbed his battle-axe from the pier and walked up the wooden gangplank of the sleek Breton flagship.

He took about twenty of his elite, repeating-rifle-toting Viking guards with him, leaving the rest to secure the ironclads on the river.

Commander Alan quickly followed the warlord, looking back at the utterly bewildered King of Burgundy one last time before shouting orders to his sailors.

"Cast off the lines! Raise the white sails!" Alan screamed into the night.

Though King Rudolf was furious about losing his royal hostage, he didn’t order his men to fire.

He stood, watching the elegant Breton warships pull away from the docks, sailing smoothly back out into the rushing waters of the river.

Days passed.

The journey down the winding rivers and out into the open ocean was uneventful.

For Hakon, who was used to brutal naval warfare and highly stressful border defenses, the peaceful voyage was a deeply welcome break.

He spent his days sitting on the deck of the Breton flagship, drinking warm spiced wine with Commander Alan.

His elite Viking warriors, men clad in dark gray coats, spent their time teaching the nervous Breton sailors how to properly clean and load their newly purchased muskets.

It was a surreal sight... just a few years ago, Breton sailors would have drawn their swords the second a Viking stepped onto their boat.

Now, they were sharing salted meat, laughing at terrible jokes, and trading highly advanced explosive powder.

However, as the heavily fortified coastline of Brittany finally came into view on the horizon, Hakon realized that the sharing of salted meat was nothing compared to what was actually happening on land.

The Breton flagship slowly sailed into the primary trading port of Rennes, and Hakon dropped his cup of wine.

"..." Hakon’s eyes widened in shock.

The borders between Brittany, the Iron Kingdom, and the English territories weren’t just opening; they were completely and utterly merging.

Docked right alongside the wooden Breton galleons were massive, entirely pitch-black Iron Kingdom merchant ships.

Hundreds of English and Viking merchants were flooding the piers, loudly haggling over prices in a wild mixture of Old Norse, Saxon, and Breton languages.

"Look at this place," Commander Alan chuckled proudly, walking up to stand entirely beside Hakon on the deck. "King Ragnar’s trade agreements opened the floodgates. We are making incredible amounts of gold every single day."

Hakon couldn’t even speak... he just stared.

He saw a wealthy Breton noble dressed in fine southern silk, but he was casually carrying a dark forged Viking revolver on his hip.

He saw heavily bearded Norse warriors laughing and drinking expensive Frankish wine outside a newly built concrete tavern, flirting with beautiful local women.

The cultural lines were vanishing... the unforgiving dark ages were being pushed aside by the addictive power of industry and free trade.

People didn’t want to slaughter each other anymore if it meant missing out on the wealth pouring entirely out of City Titan.

Even so, this uncontrolled merging of empires brought an entirely new set of problems.

As Hakon finally stepped off the gangplank and set his boots onto the bustling Breton pier, the crowd of busy merchants quickly parted for the Viking warlord.

Waiting for him at the end of the pier was King Salomon de Bretagne himself.

Standing right next to him was Ethelwulf, the highly educated Saxon diplomat from the Iron Kingdom.

"Lord Hakon," King Salomon greeted, offering a tired nod. "I see you escorted my gold, and brought back the muskets we desperately needed."

"I did, your Grace." Hakon smiled, slinging his battle-axe over his shoulder. "I robbed you blind, of course, but the muskets are entirely in the cargo hold. Safe and sound."

"Thank the gods," Salomon sighed heavily, rubbing his temples.

Hakon frowned, looking around at the wealthy port.

Everyone else looked thrilled by the massive trade boom, but the King looked terrified.

"What is the problem, King Salomon?" Hakon asked, dropping his playful tone. "Your ports are making massive amounts of gold. You should be throwing a feast right now."

"The gold isn’t the problem," Ethelwulf spoke up.

"Then what is it?" Hakon demanded, confused.

After hearing such words, King Salomon slowly turned his eyes entirely toward the sea of people crowding his port.

"King Ragnar opened the trade routes to make my people wealthy. Our borders are merging so fast that my own peasants are starting to speak your northern language." King Salomon whispered.

Salomon slowly looked back up at the warlord, "If my people rely on your food, depend on your steel tools, and fight with your explosive weapons... then who is ruling the Kingdom of Brittany right now?"