Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Hughes and the Prince walked out of the house together. Under everyone’s gaze, they both paused, extended their right hands at the same time, and clasped them together. Only, the expressions on their faces were somewhat peculiar.

Time moved back to a few hours earlier.

After confirming there was no further danger, Hughes came ashore from the sea.

The Banshees put away their weapons. The belatedly arriving ironclad ship carried a number of Holy Guard soldiers, but at Hughes’s signal, they did not disembark immediately.

The Harbor Guard looked at the ironclad ship docked at the port, then turned their heads toward the Prince—all present turned their eyes to him.

In theory, this was his territory. Leading an army into another lord’s land without invitation was an act of grave offense, one that could even serve as a pretext for war.

Especially since the Principality of Tis and Castel had no alliance. The Prince had certainly not invited Hughes to send people here.

The atmosphere instantly turned cold.

The Harbor Guard held their weapons, momentarily unsure whom to aim at. The Banshees stood where they were, clustered around Hughes, gazing coldly in this direction.

The Prince came forward.

Their party had originally been riding horses, but nearly all livestock in Blood Harbor had been killed by the threads of the Compassionate Mother. Deprived of mounts, he could only walk across his own land on his own two feet.

Both the Harbor Guard and the Holy Guard made way for him.

Hughes also looked with some curiosity at this legendary Duke of Tis.

He was not tall, yet he held his head high and chest proud, his expression without the slightest weariness. Anyone who did not know better might have thought he was the one who had won the battle.

“Earl Hughes, master of Miracle Island, guardian of the Empire’s frontier—it is truly a pity that I have only met you today.”

Hughes blinked, somewhat amused. “And where did you hear all these titles?”

“I just came up with them. How about it? Or should I make them sound even grander—Earl Hughes, imprisoner of the Heretical God?”

Hughes’s face grew stern. “I have not imprisoned the Heretical God. It only happened to reside in my Stellar Furnace.”

“Oh, that works too. If the Heretical God is unhappy, it can come here and lodge a complaint—”

The Prince leaned in with a mischievous grin. “Hey, let’s talk about something useful. How does that thing in the sky actually fly? I studied your buoyancy theory for ages, but I still don’t quite get it. The Holy Text of the Imperial Truth is way too brief about it.”

The Prince slung his arm around his shoulder as if they were old friends, chatting as he led Hughes away. Just from their backs, who would have guessed they had met barely two minutes ago?

As he left, the Prince cast a glance at the statuesque Banshees.

The steel giant standing beside them did not move an inch. Clad in iron armor, it gave an impression like the steel itself—cold, harsh, rough, silent, yet reliable.

But this Lord of Blood Harbor surely had no idea that these silent extraordinary beings were frantically chattering through Mind Link at this very moment.

『Nini, is this the so-called “charismatic aura” you wrote about in your article? The lord personally steps forward, his presence shakes the foe, and in an instant, enemy turns to friend?』

『No, I think this is the charisma of a Flying Airship and an ironclad ship.』

『What do you think the Prince will discuss with the lord?』

『What else could it be—nothing but the Blood Harbor issue. The lord surely wants the right to station troops here. The only question is whether the Prince will grant it.』

『Will he grant it?』

『Who cares whether he does or not. If he grants it, then he is the Prince of Blood Harbor. If not? There are plenty of others who will.』

『.』

『Ugh, stop bothering me, I’m really busy here. I’ve got a huge piece to work on. With this Josh interview alone, I can write 200,000 words of draft. Hanging up.』

『.』

Though Nini was not always reliable, her judgment this time was accurate. Hughes indeed intended to secure the right to garrison troops in Blood Harbor.

As it stood, Blood Harbor, being the port nearest Castel, held extremely important strategic value. Once Castel developed further, this would become the gateway for exchanges with the continent.

Thus, Hughes was determined to claim it.

The two found a surviving small house at random. In the middle stood a half-intact dining table. From the ruins, the Prince dug out two chairs—one missing an armrest, the other lacking a backrest. He dusted them off and handed one to Hughes.

“This rebellion was truly sudden. I’ve no idea what madness seized the Life Mother Church. I’ll send people to investigate. Once I have the results, I’ll send you a copy.” The Prince sat at the table, brushing off the dust with his sleeve.

“And you, the lord here, you don’t know the cause?”

“Eight or nine times out of ten, it was stirred up by those nobles. I wiped them all out in one stroke, but it was still too late. This swarm of vermin swallowed nearly all the relief grain. My orders never even reached the lower districts.”

“I see. Your intentions were good, but those below carried them out badly.” Hughes gave a cold laugh.

“Hahahahaha!” The Prince burst out laughing, clearly delighted. “That phrasing is priceless—it deserves to be written into an opera, to be shown to those lords who ought to be wearing the noose!”

“Policies are never good or bad.” The Prince shifted into a more comfortable position on the chair. “Every policy benefits some and harms others. If you want to know my true intent—I pursue equality.”

This time, Hughes was surprised. “Equality?”

“That’s right. I want to enslave everyone equally. Everyone except me shall be my slaves. And among slaves, what need is there to distinguish high or low, noble or humble?”

So that was his definition of equality. Hughes was both exasperated and amused. He had thought this Prince might have transcended the limitations of the age, but in the end, he was still chasing power all the same.

“Then by your reasoning, should I not also be a slave?”

The Prince gave him a sidelong glance. “You could be a slave overseer.”

Such unabashed ambition and arrogance made it impossible for Hughes to be angry. Instead, he regarded the Prince with interest as the latter scribbled away on paper. “Then why should I choose to work with you?”

“Because I am not one of those fools who live in their own world. I will always respect strength.” He winked. “—And knowledge.”

With that, the Prince pushed the paper across the table.

“This is…”

“The land deed of Blood Harbor. Perhaps not so formal, not entirely proper, but who cares? I am the Duke of Tis, and the Empress of the Empire—who knows where she has died off to.”

Hughes’s eyes widened. Ignoring the Prince’s insult toward the Empress, he spoke in astonishment:

  “You intend to give me Blood Harbor?”

“Oh, my friend, what nonsense you speak. The Empire has never given away an inch of land for free. Every piece is drenched in blood and fire. Without the struggle of Castel’s warriors, why would I grant you land?”

Hughes fell silent for a moment.

Blood Harbor was one of the most important cities in the Principality of Tis. The Ducal Manor was built here—he was giving away even his own home?