Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

At this moment, the Prince and his men were already very close to the Compassionate Mother, just about to charge into Her attack range. At that very instant, the Prince raised his gun and fired.

Bang!

The gunshot rang out, but no one noticed where the bullet went. Suddenly, the knights all pulled on their reins at once, and the formation that had been charging forward sharply veered off course.

The Compassionate Mother had already raised Her hand, waiting for them to come closer so She could strike down. Yet, just as the Prince’s group turned sharply with the gunshot, they galloped past, narrowly dodging Her crashing limb.

Stones flew everywhere, but the Prince and his men had already slipped away. The Compassionate Mother had struck at nothing.

“Wow… amazing!”

Exclamations of awe came from the Holy Guard. They too were capable of evading the Compassionate Mother’s attacks, but that required retreating as they fought, predicting the strikes beforehand, and maneuvering awkwardly.

After all, they only had their legs to move with—their speed was limited.

But the Prince and his Harbor Guard were all mounted on horseback.

Every one of them was an accomplished rider, and their horses were carefully selected steeds. Their movements were swift as the wind, their evasions even carried a certain elegance.

Yet this was still nothing less than dancing on the tip of a blade. They lacked the sustained firepower to weaken the Compassionate Mother from a distance, so all they could do was draw close and lure Her attention.

The Heretical God seemed enraged. She swung Her limbs wildly, smashing down at the Prince’s group. Stones blasted up everywhere, clouds of dust billowed across the ground.

But the mounted squad darted about like nimble rabbits, slipping away at the very last moment again and again. This only drove the Compassionate Mother into a frenzy, as though She were desperately trying to crush insects beneath Her feet.

“Boys, don’t just stand there! Take this chance and fire! Don’t stop!” Kyle shouted.

At his command, the Holy Guard raised their rifles and opened fire. The bolt-action rifles were already equipped with fixed cartridges, with no need for loading powder separately. After firing, they only had to eject the shell and push in another bullet to chamber again.

Now they no longer had to waste strength dodging while counterattacking. Their fire density surged in an instant. Against something the size of the Compassionate Mother, they hardly needed to aim—every pull of the trigger meant a guaranteed hit.

A single bullet barely harmed Her, but as the gunfire rang out in a constant stream, the accumulated damage became far from negligible.

And yet, the Compassionate Mother behaved as if bewitched, chasing after the Prince’s squad relentlessly, paying no attention at all to the Holy Guard, even though the Prince’s side barely retaliated.

Kyle at first felt puzzled, but quickly realized the reason.

The Compassionate Mother embodied the will of the Followers of the Mother Goddess. These wretched Starving Masses had little direct connection with the people of Castel, hardly enough for deep enmity, but their hatred for the Prince ran to the bone.

No matter what, the Prince was the Lord of Blood Harbor. The chaos and famine in Blood Harbor could not be separated from his responsibility.

Perhaps they ought to hate the nobles, hate the system itself—but the only one before their eyes was the Prince. He was the only one they could hate.

Thus the battle unfolded with the Prince leading the Compassionate Mother on a wild chase, while the Holy Guard fired ceaselessly from behind.

As the damage mounted, Kyle was delighted to find that the Compassionate Mother’s growth had halted—indeed, there was even a faint sign of regression.

Even though She continually consumed the Followers of the Mother Goddess, the Holy Guard’s dense barrage began to overwhelm even that recovery. Their firepower had multiplied tenfold the moment they were freed to focus on shooting.

“There’s hope!” Kyle’s eyes lit up, his mouth splitting into a grin. “Keep firing! Don’t let up—if we keep this up, we’ll wear Her down eventually!”

But soon, Kyle’s smile faded.

“Captain, we’re running out of bullets!”

“What!?” Kyle was stunned, turning to see his soldiers’ ammo pouches already nearly empty.

They had come prepared for a brutal fight, their ammunition stockpiles plentiful.

But that “plentiful” was calculated for a normal battle. Even against hordes of cultists, they could have lasted a long time. Yet against the Compassionate Mother, their ammunition consumption far exceeded all expectations.

Kyle was no mathematician, but even simple reckoning told him that the remaining bullets could never bring down the Compassionate Mother.

No—not just their own stock. Even if every bullet in all of Blood Harbor were added together, it would still be far from enough.

The Compassionate Mother recovered with terrifying speed. Any slight slackening in firepower, and She would immediately begin to grow stronger again. That they had managed to force Her into this stalemate at all was proof enough of the bolt-action rifle’s power.

On any normal battlefield, a being of this size would already be a calamity. Where could an ordinary lord ever hope to find a Holy Guard with such vast monster-fighting experience, led by a fearless Prince willing to act as bait?

Yet even mustering Blood Harbor’s finest, they had only barely managed to stall Her growth—and now, even that was slipping away.

Kyle opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but only tasted bitterness. His heart filled with unwillingness—despite everything they had done, despite fighting so hard, they still could not protect Blood Harbor.

Suddenly, Granny’s figure appeared beside him.

“Granny, we’re running low on bullets. Soon we won’t be able to hold the Compassionate Mother back,” Kyle said.

Granny nodded, her tone heavy. “It’s alright, child. The Cult of the Hidden has already gathered. They’re heading for the port, where our ships are waiting. They’ll be safe very soon.”

Kyle nodded. It should have been good news, but instead his throat felt blocked, choked with frustration.

He glanced unwillingly at the retreating Heretical God and asked softly, “So… we can only abandon Blood Harbor?”

He was not from the Principality of Tis, and had not lived long in Blood Harbor—he bore little attachment to the place.

But he had lived among the downtrodden for many years.

The port certainly had detestable nobles, but most of the people there were only ordinary folk, struggling to survive.

He was from Castel, with no obligation to save them. Yet his heart still surged with pain.

It was because he had seen suffering that he longed to pull others out of the abyss.

Granny sighed. “I’ll tell the Prince. He should make a decision.”

The Compassionate Mother was monstrously powerful, yet if they wished to flee, escape was still possible.

The Prince’s squad had held out so long while deliberately baiting Her. If they truly wished to escape, they could have fled long ago.

To abandon one’s subjects, to abandon one’s land and run for one’s life—such a choice should not have been difficult for the Prince.

Granny’s expression stiffened. Kyle knew she was sending her reminder to the Prince. Soon, her gaze cleared again, but then she revealed a look of disbelief.

She stood there stunned for a moment, until Kyle tentatively asked, and she finally spoke with hesitation.

“I told the Prince about our situation—that the Compassionate Mother can no longer be weakened, that She will only grow stronger.”

“I invited him to retreat with us. We can even provide some cover.”

“But he… refused.”