Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

“Monster?”

Hughes couldn’t help but turn his head toward the armored train beside him.

Due to the need for heavy transport and ramming through obstacles, the steam engine at the front of the train had immense power. For such a primitive machine, higher power also meant larger size.

Combined with the thick protective armor plating and the multiple gun platforms mounted atop the locomotive, the entire machine looked absurdly massive.

A plow-like blade was also affixed to the front to clear obstructions and defend against beasts’ spikes. During their downtime, members of the Expeditionary Army had made a few minor modifications and doodles—such as shark teeth designs like those on airships. For some reason, this paint job had become everyone’s favorite.

As a result, the entire train indeed looked rather menacing.

No—it actually looked extremely menacing. The Prince glanced at the dark muzzles on the roof and instinctively felt a chill run down his back.

Hughes, however, clearly didn’t share that feeling. He circled the locomotive a few times with curiosity before saying in confusion, “What an industrially beautiful train! Look at that steel texture, look at those smooth lines—how could anyone call this a monster?”

Hunter: “...”

The Prince: “...”

The Prince asked, “Anyway, how are things going with the Resistance?”

Hunter thought for a moment and answered earnestly, “They should be holding up fine. Viscount Frey’s attack was merely for show. He needs the Resistance to remain, so he has a legitimate reason to stay in Earl Bazel’s territory.”

“Though even such attacks aren’t easy for the Resistance to endure.”

The Prince glanced at the scribe beside him. Only after she finished recording did he continue, “And Nora? Oh, sorry, Miss Nora, I don’t mean you—I meant the other big one, Nora.”

Nora glared at him but said nothing.

The situation in the Northlands was of great importance, so Nora was naturally present. But truth be told, compared to her other half, she cared more about the Expeditionary Army.

Her thinking was quite simple: the living were people, and the dead were meat. Although her other half wasn’t exactly dead, to her, it was just a moving chunk of flesh.

After all, there was no way to reattach it.

If severed limbs could be reattached, she would’ve liked to graft six arms onto herself. Watching Nini write six reports at once made her rather envious.

As for tails—forget it. Those things didn’t look convenient; they seemed like they’d get tangled easily. Nora thought her vase under her own head was much more useful.

But Gwen and the members of the Resistance were the ones she truly cared about.

Hunter’s expression grew odd.

“Nora… she seems to be missing.”

The Prince frowned. “Either she is or she isn’t—what do you mean, seems? Has she been staying inside the castle all this time?”

“No, quite the opposite. During a previous siege, she single-handedly routed the Allied Forces’ troops. But instead of retreating to the castle, she charged outward—cut through their lines, and kept going.”

The Prince and Hughes were both dumbfounded. They looked at each other before Hughes turned to Kyle, who was overseeing the transport.

“Were the Allied Forces that weak?”

Kyle thought carefully. “Pretty weak.”

Hunter’s eye twitched; he looked like he wanted to speak but held back.

He really wanted to explain that the Allied Forces weren’t weak—in fact, they were among the top-tier armies in the Northlands, mobilized specifically against Bazel.

Even if they had sent only filler troops to feign an assault on Sleddinburg, they had still been pressing the Resistance hard.

But… the Allied Forces had been reduced to a pile of minced flesh. Who would believe him now?

So he only muttered, “Sometimes Nora comes back to kill again. Once, during a siege when the Resistance was nearly collapsing, Nora somehow returned to the battlefield. She appeared behind the Allied Forces… that was the battle where they suffered their greatest losses.”

That was interesting.

“So you’re saying Nora isn’t in Sleddinburg anymore, but she occasionally appears on the battlefield? Aren’t you a military force—can’t you stop her? So weak?”

Hunter opened his mouth, then gave up with a bitter expression. “We can’t. Her strength and endurance are terrifying, and she has no weaknesses. She isn’t even afraid of bullets.”

Everyone turned to stare at Nora.

“Nora, you’re that strong?”

“Wait, no—Nora isn’t strong. Nora is strong. Nora is just Nora’s weakness,” Monica said, arms crossed and pretending to lecture while patting Nora on the head. “It’s fine. You may have lost your body, but Nora’s lost her weakness too~”

Without thinking, Nora bit at the hand reaching toward her.

Hughes waved a hand, signaling Ash to carry the two quarrelers out—half each. Then he studied Hunter from head to toe. “You’re a noble?”

“Yes, my father is—”

“Then you must have a detailed map of the Northlands, right?”

“Uh, yes.” Hunter nodded quickly. “Though it’s in my carriage—it might not have survived—but I can draw one! I’ve stayed near Sleddinburg for quite a while. I know that area very well!”

Seeing Hughes’ expression darken, Hunter hastily corrected himself. He was starting to sense something was off—the two before him didn’t seem to care much about his noble status.

He wasn’t stupid—just a bit slow. He could sense their attitude.

They hadn’t asked about bloodlines or heritage. They hadn’t even glanced at his coat of arms. Ransom? Not even mentioned.

Without his noble identity—what else did he have to offer?

Hunter shivered. He was just a scholar. Other than studying, he knew nothing—no administrative skills, no social graces. He knew little of astrology, history, or poetry that nobles liked. As for mechanics, yes, he was good—but would these people need that?

Thinking of those bullets raining from the sky made his scalp crawl. The catapults he built were a joke compared to such weapons.

Damn it, I should’ve studied alchemy instead. Mechanical engineering’s a dead end!

Despair filled Hunter’s heart.

Hughes finished his questioning; he had learned all he needed about the Northlands. Just as he was about to leave, he paused.

“I remember you’re a scholar?”

“Yes! I studied under Master Siegfried Bell, specializing in, uh… mechanical engineering.”

Hunter’s voice trailed off.

But the young lord before him brightened instantly, whispering something to his assistant.

For a brief moment, hope flickered in Hunter’s heart. Perhaps this lord was interested in mechanics?

“Hand him over to the Tribunal.”

The hope that had just arisen shattered like a glass dropped on stone.

The Tribunal. Just hearing the word was terrifying enough. In his mind, Hunter already saw himself tied to a stake, flames licking at his feet.