Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Dark currents surged beneath the calm surface of Castel. Speculations and rumors ran rampant, yet Hughes made no further moves.

He neither admitted to any of the claims nor gave any official explanations. Instead, he turned his attention to launching the next round of educational expansion.

Many had already completed the materials of the previous Advanced Class. Further upward progression had only existed for a few specialized disciplines—subjects like calculus, for example.

This time, however, Hughes released textbooks across nearly every field. Some were written based on his memories from his previous life, but the majority came from the Moths Chasing Fire.

What Hughes provided the Moths Chasing Fire was not merely protection, but also an endless stream of resources. Within Castel, he even designated a special Testing Ground for them.

Moreover, the most cutting-edge research—those delving into the foundations of science—was placed in the southeastern Gem Bay.

The development of Gem Bay progressed slowly. After all, it was far from the mainland and lacked a population base, but for constructing Testing Grounds, it was a perfect site.

Unlike the improvement of weapons, exploring fundamental science was especially prone to triggering cognitive interference. A person designing a weapon at least knew what they were doing, whereas researching basic science was like groping forward in the dark.

After all, one who watched a bamboo stick fall could think of far more than just gravity. Verifying each hypothesis one by one was both dangerous and yielded little reward. That was why the science of this world had long been locked in stagnation.

But Castel was different. It possessed an ample population of educated citizens, a thriving research atmosphere, and Hughes’s unwavering, profitless investment—perhaps the only place in the world to gather all the necessary conditions for innovation.

At Gem Bay, the Moths Chasing Fire established multiple secret Testing Grounds. They were truly dangerous places. It was said that the pollution born from cognitive interference alone could power half of Blood Harbor.

Tata even designed a specialized barge for transporting such pollution. It could be tugged by a cargo ship, and in the event of a leak, the barge could be detached instantly.

Many of the new textbooks this time were derived directly from those studies.

Flipping through them, even Hughes couldn’t help but sigh in amazement. He was merely an engineer—without any “system” to aid him—and much of this knowledge was beyond his expertise.

At this rate, after a few more revisions, he would probably need to attend the School himself.

“These textbooks should be distributed uniformly,” he instructed. “Open a new set of courses above the Advanced Class… Hmm, and send a copy to Alexei as well. It might serve as a reference for the Holy Text.”

His order was swiftly carried out. One by one, the textbooks reached the graduates of the Advanced Class, and a new phase of higher education began.

Zoe immediately found herself busier than ever. In addition to promoting education in Blood Harbor, she now had to organize the new “Senior Class” in Castel.

—He had originally wanted to call it a “University,” but after some thought, he decided against it. These materials were still far from a true university level. Calculus was only an introduction to higher mathematics. Once the system was fully complete, he would reorganize the educational hierarchy anew.

Several boxes of textbooks were also sent northward. Alexei, now permanently stationed there, had in practice taken full control over the entire Northlands.

His responsibilities were even heavier than when he managed Castel. Firstly, the Northlands were vast, politically and culturally complex. Secondly, the White Calamity had not completely withdrawn.

Little Gwen had forced the White Calamity to recede considerably, but then it halted. According to her, many troubles still lingered within the White Mist—it would take time to resolve them.

When the Expeditionary Army had triumphed over the horde of White Bones, most of the credit truly belonged to her. The White Bones could resurrect almost instantly within the mist—had she not controlled the mist’s retreat, the Expeditionary Army’s ammunition alone would have been exhausted.

Thinking back, it was pure luck. Without Gwen’s mastery over the fog, they might have had to ally with the Silent Sanctum just to fight the White Calamity.

Speaking of the Fathers from the Silent Sanctum—

In the Northlands, within the Fortress of the Expeditionary Army—

The fortress was finally given a name: Prison of Calamity.

The name was coined by Nini. The Expeditionary Army had successfully repelled the White Calamity there, and now, countless White Bones were imprisoned within its walls—hence the title.

Gwen loved the name.

She often sat atop the fortress’s concrete rampart, staring blankly into the endless wasteland beyond.

The war in the Northlands was over. She had actually survived it, leading the Resistance Army to the end. Even now, it felt somewhat unreal.

She had once believed that, even after giving everything, she would still fail—that she and the Resistance would perish on the battlefield. Day after day, she had lived in despair, certain she would die in it.

Now, looking at the world before her, the peace felt almost too beautiful to be true.

“Big Sister Gwen, a letter for you!”

“A letter?”

Gwen blinked, turning to see Grisha running toward her, waving a sheet of paper.

A letter? Who would even write to her?

  Her comrades from the Expeditionary Army?

  No, probably not. Few of them were literate, and even fewer could actually write. She’d heard that literacy lessons had begun in Castel, but surely they weren’t yet at the level of letter-writing.

Lady Nora, perhaps?

She could read, but writing… Gwen imagined Lady Nora holding a pen in her mouth, bouncing and scribbling clumsily—and couldn’t help but smile.

She rubbed her face. The fact that thinking of her friends now brought joy instead of pain—this kind of happiness was something she had never dared to dream of before.

Hmm… Whether Lady Nora would feel “happy” about that was another matter entirely.

Grisha, panting, handed her the letter with a grin. “It’s from the Lord.”

“The Lord? Oh.”

Gwen already had a good guess as to what it might be about.

Most likely, it was an invitation to Castel.

Since the war in the Northlands had ended, she had been busy organizing the evacuation of refugees and the Resistance Army, never once stepping foot on Castel’s soil.

Nora had previously invited her to attend the trial of Earl Bazel, but after long hesitation, she had declined.

She couldn’t quite explain her feelings. Castel fascinated her—but also frightened her a little.

Fighting was what she knew. Facing any enemy, no matter how strong, she did not fear. But she’d heard that on that island, martial skill alone was not enough.

She was merely a farmer’s daughter. She could fight, yes, but beyond that—she wasn’t confident at all.

So she had declined under the excuse of “wanting to stay in the Northlands, feeling something here was calling to her.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie. She truly sensed that something within the White Mist was calling out to her. And that fleeting glimpse of the white-haired little girl that day still lingered vividly in her mind.

Gwen unfolded the letter casually.

“Let’s see… Just as I thought, an invitation to Castel… Hmm? The Fathers of the Silent Sanctum still haven’t awakened?”