Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

“Uh, sorry, Miss Gwen, I mean… please help us stall for more time. See if you can suppress them. If you can’t, return immediately, and I’ll think of something else.”

Hodge also realized he had spoken poorly, but being anxious didn’t help; without rest, the soldiers really wouldn’t be able to hold out.

Gwen carried the Gatling Gun and hurried away. She dashed toward the left side, raised the Gatling Gun with slightly unfamiliar movements, and roughly aimed at the White Bones ahead.

Dada-dada-dada-dada-dada!

The barrels spun rapidly, bullets streaking with fiery tails as they pounced toward the Enemy, shredding row upon row of skeletal frames into dust.

“Hiss—”

Gwen stared dumbfounded at the heavy machine gun in her hands, and then her eyes gradually lit up.

“This thing’s way more exciting than a longsword!”

Each rotation of the crank for a certain stroke sent bullets flying out. Gwen thought about it and concluded that as long as she cranked fast enough, the gun’s firing speed would definitely become even faster.

She tried it, found her theory absolutely correct, and instantly picked up speed. Bullets poured out like a torrential downpour.

Farther away, Hodge listened to Gwen’s ever-quickening rate of fire and frowned.

“If she shoots like that… can she still load in time? I remember she didn’t bring much ammunition.”

There was no time to ponder. Hodge moved into the ranks of the Expeditionary Army, checked the soldiers’ condition and remaining supplies, issued a few instructions to the Squad Leader, and once again looked worriedly toward the fog behind them.

Ash’s gunfire had almost become one continuous roar, with the Dragon’s Breath Cannon occasionally adding its thunderous howl, yet the mist behind them had still visibly closed the distance. On the left, Gwen seemed to have no major issue—her firing speed was shockingly fast. Perhaps she had some special way of reloading.

The soldiers had rested for a while; marching again for a bit shouldn’t be a big problem. Hodge was just about to give the order when he suddenly froze.

A loud whistle rang out from the sky.

The Train had arrived.

“Hahaha! Wonderful, wonderful!!! Hahahaha!”

Hodge practically leapt up, laughing with wild joy. The pressure along the way had been immense, but thankfully, the Train came in time. Though the Expeditionary Army hadn’t reached their limit yet, the situation had become dangerously close.

The long whistle quickly shifted into a pattern of uneven lengths. The distant Armored Train had already spotted them and was sending Hughes Code through the whistle’s rhythm.

“Sir, they’re asking what happened.”

“Tell them to stop immediately! Tell them to prepare for battle!”

A soldier raised a flashing lamp—one of Hughes’s by-products from studying cameras. By mixing magnesium powder with other flash-burn materials, it produced a blinding light for a brief moment.

With added stabilizing chemicals, it could emit intermittent signals—very useful for mid-range communication.

The approaching Train was clearly stunned. It took them quite a while to respond, and only when they neared the Expeditionary Army did they begin slowing down. Sparks burst from the wheels of the Steam Locomotive Engine, and with a harsh screech, the Train successfully braked on the Railway.

The machine-gun turret on the roof had already risen. The fixed firing mount of the Dragon’s Breath Cannon had people manning it as well. On the Train, the Dragon’s Breath Cannon could be operated by Mortals; aside from the issue of short range and the limited firing arc because it was semi-fixed to the Train, it didn’t have any major drawbacks.

Even before the Train had fully stopped, the doors swung open. Once confirming it was the Expeditionary Army, the Train’s defenders quickly moved aside to let Hodge’s people board.

Hodge almost launched himself onto the Train, climbing aboard before it had fully halted. He found the driver and immediately spoke:

“I am Hodge, commanding officer of Archbishop Alexei’s Second Guards Company. According to the Expeditionary Army’s emergency action ordinance, I hereby assume command of this Train. Reverse direction at once—we are heading toward the Military Camp to the south!”

The conductor and the Stoker stiffened for a moment, then immediately stood, saluted, and rushed toward the rear of the Train—they needed the locomotive on the tail end to reverse the direction.

Hodge ran to the whistle himself and personally blew it, reporting the situation to Ash.

Shovelful after shovelful of coal went into the Combustion Chamber. The boiler water gradually reached boil, the steam engine hummed happily, pistons slid rapidly, and the flywheel spun, pulling the Train into motion. The Armored Train slowly began to move.

The distant White Mist still drew closer. The White Bones writhed across the Northlands’ Wasteland at terrifying speed—twisted and uncanny, like maggots scalded by boiling water.

The fixed fire points atop the Train immediately opened up. Multiple heavy machine guns crossed their firing arcs, forming a wall of bullets. No matter how fast the White Bones regenerated, they could only be pinned in place. And soon enough, the Train’s speed surged; even without firing, the White Bones couldn’t catch up anymore.

Watching the White Bones shrinking into the distance, still chasing helplessly, Hodge felt an inexplicable wave of satisfaction. Sitting on the Armored Train, he felt no fear at all—steel’s warmth brought comfort.

—He even had the urge to run them over.

But remembering that behind the White Bones was the endless White Mist, he suppressed that impulse.

Most soldiers of the Expeditionary Army collapsed onto the floor. A moment ago, they had felt their strength return and were ready to run again; now that the pressure dropped, their energy immediately vanished. They lay there like fish flopping on land, mouths gaping as they gulped down air.

Only now did the exhaustion fully surface.

They had escaped!

The relief of surviving death lit up their faces with smiles as they looked at their comrades and burst into laughter.

The Expeditionary Army troops originally on the Train brought water and gave it to them. Watching the White Mist fade into the distance, they all asked what had happened.

Ash and Gwen had also returned to the Train. Ash had heard the whistle. Gwen didn’t understand whistle signals, so Ash dragged her back.

“When I found her, she was still firing like crazy.”

Ash glanced at Gwen as she spoke.

“Right, I actually wanted to ask too.” Hodge suddenly remembered and fixed his gaze on the heavy machine gun in Gwen’s hands.

“Gwen, you were firing so fast—how did you have time to reload?”

The Expeditionary Army’s standard Gatling Gun used magazines. Although they had large capacity, the Gatling’s rate of fire was terrifying as well. With Gwen’s firing method, she shouldn’t have had time to reload at all—her gunfire hadn’t stopped for a single moment.

Gwen blinked, then replied:

“Reload? Reload what? This gun still needs reloading?”