Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Upon entering the central district of Blood Harbor, the scenery on both sides changed abruptly once more.

Tall buildings with flat, squared façades lined the streets, their solid walls resembling fortress ramparts.

But unlike fortresses, which had only a single wall, here stood row upon row of towering structures.

If one looked farther into the distance, one could see between these tall buildings slightly lower factory workshops, and rising among them were towering chimneys.

The chimneys reached far higher than any other structure—these symbols of industrialization stood like colossal pillars propping up the heavens themselves, as if they were the World Pillars preventing the sky from collapsing.

For a brief moment, Gwen felt as though she stood within a world of giants—everything around her so unimaginably vast, as if titans hundreds of feet tall truly dwelled within this magnified city.

Yet, Gwen’s eyesight was keen. Even across great distances, she could clearly see people moving among the buildings—not towering giants, but mortals like herself.

It was mortals, with their own hands, who had built this city that reached into the clouds.

Gwen’s heart thumped wildly.

Such a magnificent feat ought to be written into the Holy Texts, turned into hymns to be sung through the ages—this was a miracle truly worthy of praise.

But…

Gwen looked around at the others. Neither the Expeditionary Army nor Nora seemed to pay the slightest attention to the grand spectacle outside.

“Lady Nora,” Gwen whispered.

“What is it?”

“Why do you seem… not to care about such a magnificent city? It’s so grand, so awe-inspiring. Even the Expeditionary Army looks as if they’ve grown used to it. If this were according to the Sanctum’s—”

Gwen’s words trailed off. She and Nora no longer had any true connection to the Silent Sanctum. In fact, their return this time was for the sake of aiding the priests there.

“What do you think we should do? When the train enters Blood Harbor, should we all kneel together and chant praises to Hughes’s greatness?”

“Uh…”

Gwen thought Nora’s tone was a little too sharp—but she also couldn’t deny that, deep down, she’d harbored the same thought.

In the White Raven Principality, entering a sanctum required one to solemnly recite scripture from the Holy Text, praising its glory.

Yet, the city before them was far greater than any chapel built of stone. Shouldn’t steel and concrete be even more deserving of reverence?

“Nora,” Gwen said, “when I first arrived at Blood Harbor, I actually asked the Lord the same question.”

“How did he answer? He must’ve laughed at my foolishness, didn’t he?” Gwen muttered blankly.

Nora lifted her head, meeting Gwen’s gaze. The face that was usually so expressionless suddenly curved with a faint smile.

“He said I could submit a project proposal. If a double-blind experiment could prove that kneeling and worship helped promote scientific progress, then such a practice could be implemented.”

Gwen froze.

“Gwen, you see,” Nora continued, “the people of Castel are always humble. No matter how strange a thought may sound, they’re willing to test it in the laboratory. At the same time, they’re incredibly proud—if they discover that something is useless, then no matter how sacred the ritual, even if it involves the gods themselves, they won’t spare it a thought.”

“And Blood Harbor—it is the manifestation of their will. Look closely at this city; its greatness lies not only in steel and concrete.”

Gwen bit her lip, feeling an overwhelming surge of emotion colliding within her. The last time she had felt this way was upon first stepping into a sanctum. But this time, she was stepping into the Realm of Mortals.

“Lady Nora, you said I should take a good look at the city—but it’s too tall! I can’t even see the top.” Gwen pouted, tilting her head toward the window. “Not just the smoke… even the tall buildings—I can’t see their tops either.”

Gwen sat by the window of the train, pressing herself closer to it and craning her neck upward, even leaning halfway out, but she still couldn’t see clearly.

Unless she could, like Nora, detach her own head, this narrow window would only ever allow her to see Blood Harbor through a limited frame.

Unfortunately, detaching was not an option.

After a moment’s hesitation, Gwen slowly lowered her head and glanced down at Nora, who sat in her arms.

“…” Nora’s eye twitched.

The central district wasn’t large. Just as Gwen was still struggling to find a better angle, the train screeched sharply and came to a halt before the platform.

“Are we there?”

“Whether we are or not—just pull me back in first,” Nora said flatly, her tone already numb.

Gwen was a good girl—just a bit too energetic. She often had these strange ideas, such as, upon realizing she couldn’t stick her own head out, deciding to let Nora do it instead.

Nora was currently being held outside the window, her face buffeted by Blood Harbor’s warm evening breeze, deeply questioning her life choices.

But she would soon discover—her doubts had come too soon.

“Alright… uh…” Gwen responded, slowly drawing her hands back—but something seemed stuck.

And just then, the stopped train made a clanking sound as the side doors slid open.

Light flooded into the carriage, followed by the bustling noise of the port and the salty wind rushing in.

Gwen froze.

The Northern Train was still primarily a freight train; its design prioritized cargo over passengers. There were no real passenger carriages—just freight cars with some seats bolted in. Comfort was minimal, but no one complained.

Thus, the carriage doors opened from the side.

So when Hughes, who had come to meet Gwen, arrived with a group of Banshees waiting for their shift to start, the moment the doors opened, they were greeted by quite the scene—

Gwen had both arms stretched out the window, one foot on the floor, the other on the frame, struggling to pull something back inside.

As the doors slid open, Gwen’s whole body stiffened. Her face filled with dread as she slowly turned her head.

Behind her stood several rows of Banshees, along with curious Expeditionary Army soldiers and local citizens—and, of course, a dumbfounded Hughes.

“You… what are you doing?”

Gwen forced out a nervous smile and hurriedly turned back to pull again.

Clang!

A loud metallic sound echoed.

The surrounding Banshees exchanged glances.

“Nini, who do you think… won this one?” Monica nudged Nini with her elbow.

“I did.”

“Huh? You think Gwen’s gone crazy?”

“Look at her—how is that not crazy?”

“…”

After a pause, Monica suddenly realized something. “Wait, no—you bet that Gwen wasn’t crazy!”

“Then I still win.”

“Huh?”

“Remember Galahad? When he went mad, he drew his sword and slashed wildly. But look at Gwen—she’s not attacking anyone. Instead, Nora is the one chasing and biting her. Clearly, Gwen’s fine—the one who’s gone mad is Nora.”

Nini patiently explained, while ahead of them, Nora was already furiously charging at Gwen, who was running around clutching her head in panic.