Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Hunter only felt as if he were dreaming.

In the morning, he had still been at the military camp besieging Sleddinburg, listening to Viscount Frey talk about the rival he longed to face; yet by evening, he had arrived in Blood Harbor and met the Prince.

Everything in between felt like a nightmare—or perhaps he had never woken up at all.

Damn it, this was Blood Harbor at the far eastern edge of Tis? The Blood Harbor half a month’s journey away from the Northlands? That morning he had still been complaining about the northern cold, and now the warm sea breeze of the port was brushing against his face.

Because these captives had brought valuable intelligence, they had been sent off immediately—transported on a spare locomotive that drove straight toward Blood Harbor. When Hunter got off the train, the sky had not yet darkened.

Hunter prided himself on being a learned scholar, yet everything that had happened today shattered his years of understanding to pieces.

A terrifying weapon that rained death from the sky; an armored train as large as a house; and the unbelievable transport capability that could bring him from the Northlands to Blood Harbor in just one afternoon.

He had never even heard of such things—had not even dreamed of them in his wildest imagination.

And now, they had appeared before him so abruptly.

Before stepping off the train, Hunter had thought nothing could surprise him anymore—he had seen too many bizarre creations.

But as he walked out of the carriage, he still stood there, dumbstruck.

The place where he disembarked was the station at Blood Harbor’s port district—the most industrialized area of the city.

A forest of steel and cement had so suddenly invaded Hunter’s eyes.

The roaring hum of steam engines—if one listened carefully, they almost seemed to argue with the stokers. The shrill blasts of steam whistles followed a strange, rhythmic pattern. One after another, massive shipping containers—large enough to fit his entire carriage inside with space to spare—were pushed into the nearby cement factory. Mountains of steel were being loaded onto trains and sent away.

Was he… still on this same world?

As dusk deepened, the Lighthouse at sea lit its enormous searchlight. The beam swept across Hunter for an instant, and at that moment, he felt as though he were staring directly at the sun.

Hunter’s legs trembled; fear made his body feel as though filled with lead. He was like a small animal dragged from its cave, facing for the first time a vast and terrifying world.

He could not move forward. The other prisoners were no better off. He even felt that the shackles on his wrists were unnecessary—before such magnificent creations, who could still entertain the thought of escape?

Soon, Hunter saw a somewhat familiar face.

“Your Highness William!”

Hunter had once seen the only son of Duke Tis at a banquet in the Northlands—or rather, now he should call him Duke Tis.

At that time, the two of them had spoken warmly, even regarding each other as friends.

But now, his shout was met only with a cold gaze from the other side.

After a moment—perhaps rummaging through his memory—the Prince finally replied slowly, “Lord Hunter, it’s been a long time.”

After speaking, he looked away and turned to converse with another man.

That man was young—perhaps even younger than Hunter—with dark hair and deep, penetrating eyes that seemed able to see through all his secrets.

“You are Hunter,” the man asked.

“Hunter Godfrey Watts, son of the Earl who holds real power under Grand Duke Alvarez. The family has some heritage... He is now a scholar,” the Prince said quietly beside him.

Hunter hurriedly nodded. It seemed the other was also of noble birth, though he did not know his identity. Even though he was their captive, etiquette among nobles could not be neglected.

But since he did not know who the other was—and since Duke Tis had made no introduction—Hunter hesitated, unsure of what courtesy to perform.

Then, the other man spoke again.

“Tell us everything you know about the Resistance Army.”

Hunter quickly nodded. That was what a captive like him should do. Wars between nobles seldom claimed the lives of captured opponents. As long as one’s family could pay the ransom, one could always be redeemed.

And it was expected that he cooperate with reasonable requests in exchange for treatment befitting his noble status.

That was the rule among the Empire’s nobility—unchanged since ancient times.

Yet Hunter could not help but tremble inwardly. For some reason, he felt uneasy. The man before him was also a noble, right? Then surely things would proceed by the code of nobility?

Only that late Empress had ever ignored such rules—treating everyone equally, noble or commoner alike, killing whomever she wished.

Every other noble followed the old code.

Looking at the two men standing before him, Hunter forced the chaotic thoughts from his mind.

Except for that one eccentric Empress, surely he wouldn’t encounter another like her? And there were two people here—if one wanted to kill him, the other would surely intervene.

After leaving that hellish battlefield, reason had gradually returned to Hunter’s body. He had always been a timid man, and naturally, his fear of death had resurfaced.

“The Resistance Army... they probably took Sleddinburg more than half a year ago, and have been holding it since then,” Hunter stammered.

After saying that first sentence, Hunter noticed something strange—the expressions of the two men opposite him turned oddly surprised.

What was wrong? Was that unusual?

“They succeeded in taking Sleddinburg?”

“Yes, they captured the fortress almost effortlessly. I don’t know the details, but in the end, Earl Bazel’s personal guards escorted him out of the city.”

Across from him, Hughes and the Prince exchanged glances, then both turned to Isaac.

They had always thought the Resistance Army was finished—or at least scattered in exile—and had based their intelligence gathering on that assumption. But now, they were being told the Resistance had completely crushed their enemies?

Even the ever-composed Isaac was struck dumb, his face gradually turning red.

“This matter was personally reported by Bazel to Octavia—apparently, he intended to negotiate something in secret. But soon after, he was ambushed in the Canary Mountains’ woodlands, his elite troops wiped out. He no longer had the strength to deal with the Resistance. So, the Three Grand Dukes formed an Allied Forces with Earl Bazel’s territory to exterminate the rebels.”

“Wait—Bazel is still alive, right?”

“Yes. In fact, we were on our way to find him this time.”

Hughes rubbed his temples wearily. The Northlands were far too chaotic; false reports spread everywhere. Though they had gathered some information about Bazel, none of it could be fully trusted.

“Then why did you attack us first?”

“What attack?” Hunter asked in surprise. “We didn’t attack you!”

“My men reported that you launched an assault on the Expeditionary Army, so they ambushed and fought you.”

Hunter blinked, then suddenly remembered the train he had just ridden on. His eyes brightened. “Ah—you mean the steam locomotive, right? Viscount Frey had no idea that was your force! He thought the armored train was some kind of monster—and was preparing to exterminate it!”