Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

“How is this possible? The Lord himself actually came!?”

Hodge’s mouth opened so wide that an egg could fit inside.

Hughes had always been fully aware of his role as a lord. He rarely risked his own life, believing that the soldiers of Castel did not require his personal presence on the battlefield to be inspired. In fact, his presence might even become a burden if they had to protect him.

Therefore, during expeditions in the Northlands, Hughes had always remained behind to handle logistics, fully trusting his soldiers with the front line.

Even when the Life Mother Church rebellion broke out in Blood Harbor, he had merely observed the situation from a distance and never truly entered the front lines.

Yet today, he had taken a train all the way to the far Northlands—thousands of miles from Castel—and had even brought along all the Banshees.

Just what was in the Northlands that could be so important?

Hodge’s heart pounded wildly. He had a vague feeling that something major was about to happen.

“That’s Earl Hughes, the Lord of Castel?” Gwen asked curiously, gazing at the young man in the distance. “He’s so young. Is he really as great as they say?”

This was the first time Gwen had ever seen Hughes. She had spent her entire life in the Northlands, never leaving once. She had thought she would only meet the legendary Lord after the war was over—but she hadn’t expected to see him today.

Hodge glanced at her and snorted lightly without replying.

Gwen understood that these soldiers of the Expeditionary Army were all devoted followers of Hughes. To be fair, after seeing that bastion fortress, even she couldn’t help but feel some admiration toward this lord.

After all, the Expeditionary Army was ultimately meant to settle in Castel; that would be their home. Hughes would be her lord—not just in the future, but even now.

Not far away—

Alexei whispered a few words to Hughes. Hughes smiled and nodded, but his gaze swept across the area. When his eyes landed on Gwen, they brightened noticeably, and he quickly walked toward her.

He recognizes me? That’s impossible. They had never met before. Yet the way Hughes looked at her clearly showed a hint of recognition.

“Big Gwen? Finally, I get to meet you. I’m Hughes Corsica Simmons Stuart. A pleasure.”

Big Gwen? It sounded as if there was also a Little Gwen somewhere. The title wasn’t offensive, but it left Gwen feeling rather puzzled.

After speaking, Hughes extended his hand. Gwen hesitated for a moment, realizing he wanted to shake hands. She instinctively offered her right hand, the one gloved with her gauntlet—only to realize that Hughes had extended his left.

A flicker of awkwardness crossed Gwen’s face. She quickly switched to her left hand and shook his.

For some reason, Gwen felt Hughes pause for a split second during the handshake.

“I’m Gwen. It’s an honor to meet you, uh… L-Lord,” she stammered. “And please, don’t call me Big Gwen.”

“Alright, Big—ah, I mean, Gwen.”

After finishing the handshake, Hughes went on to shake hands with Hodge and the others before quietly conversing with Alexei as they walked toward the barracks.

The Banshees on the platform dispersed silently. They seemed to need no words, their silence as cold and hard as steel.

Only—

“Is it just me, or do those Banshees keep sneaking glances at me?” Gwen muttered under her breath.

“Nini must’ve written something again,” Hodge replied casually. “When you don’t know why something happens, it’s probably Nini’s fault.”

Gwen nodded hesitantly. These people from Castel always gave her a strange feeling.

Even as they left, that feeling still lingered.

“Maybe it was just too sudden. I didn’t expect to meet the Lord like this. Hm, he’s got only two legs, no tail, no extra arms… just an ordinary Mortal.”

In her subconscious, the Lord of Castel should have looked far more extraordinary—perhaps with curved horns, a massive body, extra limbs, or even two heads. He shouldn’t have looked so… ordinary.

He was just a human—a mere Mortal who had achieved miracles. That, somehow, was harder for her to accept than if he were a god.

Gwen clenched her left hand, feeling the warmth that still lingered from their handshake. She could hardly believe it.

Warmth?

Then she suddenly realized—perhaps out of convenience earlier—she had only worn her gauntlet on her right hand.

Alexei and Hughes walked side by side through the newly constructed Fortress.

“My Lord, why did you come in person?” Alexei’s face flashed with concern. His decision to resist the White Mist had been made on his own. He had planned to prepare the train in advance so that if resistance failed, they could retreat quickly. He hadn’t expected Hughes to come after receiving the report—completely disrupting his plans.

Moreover, Hughes had brought all the Banshees with him.

Previously, Hughes had strictly limited the number of Banshees deployed at the front line. Nini had used all sorts of excuses to send more of them north, but this time it seemed like nearly every single one had come.

Alexei hadn’t counted them one by one, but he could roughly estimate their number.

There were surely more than a hundred Banshees in the camp now.

“Of course I came to help you resist the White Calamity,” Hughes said with a light chuckle. “Without me here, the Banshees can’t operate at full efficiency. Only under my command can they display their greatest combat strength.”

Alexei opened his mouth, but ultimately swallowed what he wanted to say.

Hughes was right. The arrival of these hundred Banshees had greatly bolstered the Expeditionary Army’s combat power.

Their ability in direct combat was one thing—but each Banshee was also a perfect commander. Through their Mind Link, they could communicate instantly with each other, resolve conflicts through innate synchronization, and coordinate like a single organism. Combined with their formidable fighting capabilities, it was as if they were born for the battlefield.

“As for real danger,” Hughes continued, “you don’t need to worry too much. You planned to rely on the bastion for defense, and if it failed, you would retreat by train, correct?”

“Yes,” Alexei nodded. The railway ran directly into the bastion, making retreat convenient. He had already planned to clear the train cars ahead of time, ready to evacuate the entire Expeditionary Army if the defense collapsed.

“Then the Banshees won’t slow you down,” Hughes said with a faint smile. “Though they’re not particularly fast on land, they never tire. Long-distance retreat won’t be a problem.”

He chuckled softly. “Now then, how are things here? Do we still have enough supplies?”

“Supplies are no problem at all,” Alexei replied. “We’ve stockpiled armaments and other materials sufficient for occupying the Northlands. One campaign’s worth of resources is more than enough. As for the situation…”

The two entered the temporary command room within the Fortress. Several technical Fathers were busy around a massive wooden table in the center. Hughes glanced down—it was a finely detailed terrain map.

“The White Calamity is now less than a hundred kilometers away and still advancing toward us. We estimate it will reach the designated battlefield within half a day.”