Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Josh was a native islander born and raised in Castel. Perhaps his forebears had other homelands, but in his heart, Castel was his only home.

Castel, *Fire and Light in the Storm*, such a beautiful name—though it didn’t change the fact that it was just an unremarkable little island in the Storm Ocean.

Josh had always dreamed of venturing out into the world.

Every child had that kind of dream. What set Josh apart from others was—his drive was a bit too intense.

As a boy, he had once lashed together a raft from deadwood and, with nothing but his youthful passion, rowed straight into the sea.

By sheer luck, he had been rescued by passing fishermen and at least hadn’t lost his life.

Later, a sudden storm had orphaned him. After settling his parents’ affairs, Josh was completely unburdened. The fire in his heart began to burn anew.

If Hughes had never come to Castel, Josh might have already left aboard some ship—perhaps become a merchant, perhaps a pirate, perhaps gained fame, or perhaps ended his life in obscurity, fed to the Devil Fish.

But Hughes had arrived, and Castel changed. The Storm Ocean changed. The fates of countless people were diverted down entirely new paths.

Josh sighed inwardly. He truly had never imagined he’d become the high priest of some heretical cult.Yes—a cult. The so-called ”Steam and Deep Sea Esoteric Order” was a cult. Josh knew this all too well.

It wasn’t his original intention. But alas, fate made a mockery of him, and in the end, this was the path he had to walk.

It all had to be told from the beginning.

Josh had disembarked with goods acquired on credit, stepping onto the unfamiliar land of Blood Harbor with several fellow townsmen.

At that time, the Crown Prince was still just a prince, and the empress’s crown had not yet fallen to the ground.

Blood Harbor was thriving. Though the Empire forbade trade with Gem Bay, merchants from the White Raven Principality and the southern continent still made Blood Harbor a shining gem in the Storm Ocean.

Order and chaos coexisted. Prosperity and decay were intertwined. Opportunities lay scattered all over the ground—if one had the guts and just a bit of luck, one could make a fortune here.

This place was always brimming with life.

Josh and his companions made their first fortune here by selling soap acquired on credit.

Soap from Castel was in extremely high demand—and more importantly, they were the only ones who had stock at the time.

For a while, Josh and the others were red-hot in popularity.

Usually, that was the moment when infighting began. But Josh and his companions didn’t fall apart.

Perhaps it was because they were far-sighted. Perhaps it was because they valued friendship. Or perhaps because they knew—soap was just a minor product of Castel. As long as they had Hughes, their lord, backing them, their achievements could go far beyond this.

In any case, Josh and his friends resisted temptation, stayed united, and founded their own merchant guild.

They didn’t squander their newly-earned lios either. Instead, they pooled their earnings together, planning to return to Hughes for a second batch of goods and expand their operations.

They established a foothold in Blood Harbor and waited for Jeremiah and his *Black Pearl* to return.

They waited a long time.

The *Black Pearl* remained absent. The Crown Prince traveled to Rhine to receive his reward. Strange changes stirred across the sea, and undercurrents surged in Blood Harbor.

Business for the guild grew increasingly difficult.

After discussing with his companions, Josh chose to temporarily scale back. They knew Castel was their true base of operations. They didn’t need to force things in Blood Harbor—only Castel mattered. As long as Castel stood, everything would turn out fine.

Unfortunately, these hopes were nothing more than a beautiful illusion.

The sea began to dry up. Jeremiah and Kenn staggered into Blood Harbor.

With them came a full shipload of refugees.

Josh took them in. Though the guild had lost its business, their previous foundation barely allowed them to keep things afloat.

But from that point onward, everything began to sink—without return.

The empress was assassinated. The Crown Prince, once a laughingstock, suddenly became a hero. He rose as a hero, but Blood Harbor fell into darkness.

Evils that once lurked in shadows began walking in broad daylight. The drying sea pushed people into despair, and despair lured in cultists who thrived on it. They turned Blood Harbor into a true hell.

Jeremiah insisted on leaving by sea. Neither Josh nor Kenn could dissuade him. Eyes red, he looked like a madman betting everything on the table.

At the final moment when the *Black Pearl* set sail, Kenn jumped aboard. Josh collapsed on the pier, reaching out to him, as if he could pull back his best friend by sheer will.

Only a few meters apart, yet they went down different roads.

Kenn boarded the ship, headed toward the dried-up sea. Josh was left on shore, watching them fade into the distance.

How he wished he could jump aboard and leave it all behind. But behind him were his companions, the merchant guild, and an entire ship of refugees.

Gritting his teeth, Josh wiped away the rain on his face and walked toward the storm-ravaged Blood Harbor.

He was still just a youth, but he already bore too much.

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”Josh, what do you think Castel would think of us?”

A pang shot through Josh’s heart, but he merely shook his head expressionlessly.

”We didn’t have any other choice.”

His companion, another hooded figure, fell silent as well.

Blood Harbor had long since become a paradise for cultists. Even after the prince returned, he merely reorganized the upper city. To merchants like them, he had a laissez-faire attitude—live or die on your own.

It was as if they’d been shoved into the water and had to become fish to avoid drowning.

And they succeeded.

They gathered the refugees. To fend off cultists eyeing them hungrily, they began calling themselves the Esoteric Order.

The doctrine was fake, the prayers made-up, the cultists merely refugees in disguise. Only the holy water stewing in the pot—was real. It truly filled many bellies.

No one knew when it started, but the united ”Steam and Deep Sea Esoteric Order” gradually carved out a place in Blood Harbor.

Even Josh adapted to that life. He even thought—it wasn’t so bad. At least they had rice porridge, and the refugees could survive.

But just at that moment, news came from the believers—a strange steamship had docked at Blood Harbor.

Castel had reappeared.

Perhaps it was fate. When Josh still held hope for Castel, it had vanished beneath the sea. But when everyone despaired—it appeared once more.

Castel. How Josh wished he could return to it as the boy he once was.

But he was now the head of a heretical cult. How could Lord Hughes possibly tolerate a cult within his domain?

The goods Hughes had once lent him had all been sold for money—turned into holy water and poured into the bellies of refugees.

Josh pursed his lips. His mouth tasted bitter.

He hesitated for a long time. In the end, he still sent someone to deliver a message to the team from Castel.

After all, he was from Castel too—no matter what he had become.