Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

“Your Highness, Galahad has already returned.”

“Alright, let him rest a while, then have him come report to me.” The Prince smiled and nodded toward Johan.

The old butler inclined his head, then withdrew from the room.

The Prince waited for a moment, making sure the sound of his footsteps had faded, before turning his head to the side, gazing at the empty air: “Do you think he believed it?”

“Not necessarily. But at least he’s willing to work for us now.” The Prince’s soul let out a sigh.

This had been his firm request. Earlier, his butler Johan had immediately seen that this “Prince” was an impostor. At that time, Blood Harbor’s situation was unstable, so Isabella had chosen to imprison Johan directly.

By her intent, he should have been killed to eliminate future troubles. But the Prince’s soul disagreed, even trying to threaten her—though he had no real leverage.

Still, that had at least amused her. Isabella had been in a good mood, so Johan’s life was spared.

Now that Blood Harbor had no second voice, releasing Johan no longer mattered. So the two had worked together to put on an act—pretending that a strange soul had tried to seize the Prince’s body but had been counter-killed. In this way, Johan believed that the Prince was still the Prince.

“Enough, I don’t have time to play these little games with you. How is the investigation into the Life Mother Church?”

Before them, the office desk had been changed. It was much longer than before, and now it was crammed full of documents.

This was a new function Isabella had recently developed. Though the Prince’s soul could not influence the real world, he could at least read documents.

For certain highly confidential matters not suitable for others to know, Isabella could let the Prince help her handle them.

Thus, although the real Prince had already died, the work he had to do only grew heavier.

It was said this was advanced experience Isabella had learned from Castel.

And indeed, the dead were more useful than the living—never tired, never weary, no need to eat, drink, or sleep, able to devote themselves fully to work.

Every time she awoke and saw the Prince still working overtime there, Isabella felt utterly refreshed.

As expected of Earl Hughes—such a great invention. Why hadn’t she thought of it first?

  Perhaps she should even build a memorial stele in Blood Harbor.

The Prince had no sense of being exploited at all. He dutifully began to explain the information he had compiled:

“I’ve gathered intelligence from various investigations. The Life Mother Church indeed harbors some hidden truths.”

“How so?”

“Mira is the High Priestess of the Life Mother, isn’t she? It seems she lacked experience and did not know of the 【Compassionate Mother】’s greed. In order to gain power to help her believers, she fed too many souls to the 【Compassionate Mother】.”

“That’s only natural. Since when has the Life Mother Church had an experienced priestess? They’re all just consumables.”

“She meant well. Sadly, she took the wrong path.”

A shadow crossed Isabella’s face, her expression contorting: “Meant well but did evil? Then I’d rather she had never meant well at all.”

The Prince sighed.

“So she lost control, then?”

“Worse than that. She was in turn controlled by the 【Compassionate Mother】. To be precise, all the believers of the Life Mother Church were affected. Their inner emotions were magnified, driving them one after another to sacrifice themselves without fear of death.”

Isabella was silent for a while before speaking slowly: “Magnified?”

“Yes. I have many records of interrogations with believers. At the time, they had already been freed from the 【Compassionate Mother】’s influence, yet they still chose to sacrifice themselves—only without the same absolute resolve and fearlessness.”

After finishing, the Prince’s face showed a trace of confusion: “I don’t quite understand. Why would they choose to die for a heretical god?”

Isabella pressed her lips together: “Because no one else had ever helped them.”

The room fell into silence.

After a long time, Isabella rubbed her forehead and spoke again: “So what exactly did Mira do wrong?”

“She tried to forcibly suppress the growth of the 【Compassionate Mother】 by using her own soul to feed it in place of the believers. At first this worked, since she was an extraordinary being, with a soul much stronger than ordinary followers.”

“But that heretical god was not merely devouring souls. It was continually assimilating its believers. She never realized she was being controlled, always believing she was about to succeed.”

“She truly thought sacrificing her own soul could satisfy the 【Compassionate Mother】’s hunger. Although this would leave the Life Mother Church leaderless, she had already arranged a new home for its believers.”

“Castel?”

“How did you know?” The Prince looked surprised.

“Where else but that island could be called a home? No wonder she reached out so eagerly to the outside world—she knew she was going to die.”

“Yes. A great sacrifice—she found her believers a bright future, yet was willing to die on the eve of dawn. But alas, it was all just an illusion.”

“To die in the darkness before the dawn…” Isabella murmured, lost in thought.

“What followed we already know. The 【Compassionate Mother】, now grown to a monstrous size, brought destruction to Blood Harbor. That is the entire truth.”

No one spoke further. Only soft sighs lingered in the room.

Knock, knock, knock.

A sudden knocking at the door broke their thoughts. Galahad opened the door: “Your Highness?”

Then his gaze fell upon the longer, larger desk, and his face showed doubt: “What’s going on here?”

The Prince stood from his chair, smiling broadly: “Just a little improvement, nothing to worry about. You may have the chance to try it yourself one day.”

A shiver inexplicably ran down Galahad’s back. He was an extraordinary being, yet facing this mortal Prince, he actually felt a touch of fear.

Was this the so-called aura of a king?

“Galahad, you returned just in time. How are things on Castel’s side?”

Galahad’s face grew serious: “I brought Lady Nora’s head there. Earl Hughes immediately began mobilizing. It looks like he’s preparing for war.”

The Prince nodded. That was about what he had expected. Not only Hughes—had he himself received such a head, he too would want to crush the Northlands flat.

So Hughes had torn up the treaty without hesitation, cutting ties at once, afraid any delay would let others think he was complicit.

“Do they need any help? As I recall, Castel’s ships aren’t very reliable. We still have some vessels that can be used.”

At this point, the Prince could not help but sigh. A navy could not be built merely by pouring money and resources into it. Back when he had been the Empress, he had pinned hopes on the Empire’s navy, only to see it fall far short of the army.

Thus he truly understood Hughes’ struggles with shipbuilding, and even wanted to comfort him—a bit of shared misery.

“They have a new ship about to launch, so they likely don’t lack for vessels. I’ve heard there’s also a major project under review, though it may not be approved.”

“A major project? How major can it be?” The Prince curled his lips. “It’s just ships. It’s not like I haven’t built them before.”