Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Speaking seemed to tug at its wound, and the flesh on the monster’s body crumbled and fell apart. Zoe recoiled in fright, but then suddenly furrowed her brows. “She?”

That word, in the Tis language, specifically referred to a female. But the figure before them was clearly a man.

Zoe hesitated and asked, “Who is she? A relative of yours? Is she also here?”

“No.” A voice came from behind Zoe. “It’s that head.”

A woman wearing a hood walked forward, knelt halfway to the ground. The blood soaking her coarse linen dress turned it red.

“That was Tommy’s mother. Three days ago, he came to me and asked me to attach her head to himself. She was his last remaining family.”

The woman held the boy’s hand and gently closed his eyes. “Sleep, child. Go to the embrace of the Mother Goddess. There is no more hunger or illness there.”

Her movements were gentle, her voice tender. Only after the monster closed his eyes did she slowly rise to her feet.

As she began to speak, the old woman had already started tugging the people of Castel slowly backward. The Harbor Guard had also sensed that something was wrong. The soldiers gradually grouped together, but the woman seemed unaware, merely whispering a prayer for the monster.

When she turned around, countless rifles were already pointed at her.Zoe’s eyes were red with emotion. She clenched her teeth and asked, “Why?”

Just moments ago, she had even felt some sympathy for the cultists, thinking they were merely poor souls with nowhere left to turn. But then, this scene had unfolded before her.

Zoe demanded in anguish, “Why did you turn him into that… that *thing*!? What exactly are you trying to do?”

The woman’s gaze fell on Zoe, then slowly swept over the Holy Guard and the Harbor Guard, both now aiming rifles at her.

“Because they were starving to death. But this… this much food for one person could allow all of them to survive.”

Zoe was stunned.

The people of Castel were stunned.

They looked at the fallen Tommy, eyes full of shock. They had considered many possibilities. They had long seen the madness and strangeness of the cultists. If the woman had said she was summoning a heretical god or performing some kind of extraordinary ritual, they wouldn’t have been surprised at all.

But she said she was saving them?

Could it be that these cultists were really saving people?

No, how could this be saving anyone? Tommy’s body was covered in swollen, disgusting pustules, and he had his relative’s head grafted onto him. No matter how one looked at it, he looked more like a monster than a human being.

“Is it frightening?”

The woman spoke softly. She removed her hood. Her face was withered, her hair like tangled weeds, her eyes sunken.

“To survive, one must become hideous like a monster, disgusting. To save even the tiniest portion of food, we must discard our bodies.”

“But he didn’t care. He only wanted to live. He only wanted his loved one not to die. He didn’t care how others saw him, how they loathed him.”

“But he still died.”

“A bit of food—that was all he needed to survive. But we couldn’t even find that much.”

Figures began to emerge behind the woman. One by one, thin, short, hunched silhouettes stepped out of the shadows, gradually filling the entire warehouse.

They were ugly, filthy. Many of them wore rags that could barely cover their bodies. They looked like a horde of blood-drinking monsters.

The Harbor Guard raised their rifles toward them. Yet they did not retreat. They had no weapons in their hands, but stubbornly stood in front of the woman with only their frail flesh and blood.

“Where is the food?”

The woman’s voice was soft, as if mumbling to herself. But in the silence of the warehouse, it rang out loud and clear.

“We just went to the Upper City and casually looked around. We brought back more food than we found in three entire months—and that’s not even counting what’s already begun to rot.”

“Yes, the food in the Upper City is already starting to rot, Your Highness.”

The prince snorted coldly, his expression indifferent. He merely listened in silence.

“We are of the Church of the Mother of Life. Ending life goes against our doctrine. If it weren’t for the sheer number of people dying from starvation, we wouldn’t even be here.”

“If you had distributed the food that was about to rot, we wouldn’t have gathered here. At worst, you’d have seen a few more of what you call monsters.”

“These people would rather become monsters. As long as they can live, nothing else matters to them.”

“But now, even that isn’t possible.”

The woman’s voice suddenly grew louder. The fury in the eyes of the Mother Goddess’s followers burned ever more fiercely.

“The Mother of Life will save all life—ugly or beautiful, noble or lowly. Before Her, all life is equal.”

“Why is it that equal people cannot equally afford a meal?”

“Why must the food in your warehouses rot, while Tommy must become a monster for a single bite?”

The woman’s gaze was sharp as a blade, locked firmly on the gun barrels aimed at her.

“He just wanted to live, and yet you forced him to become a monster. A *monster*!”

“You are the real monsters!”

The followers of the Mother Goddess all stepped forward in unison, their chests nearly pressed against the muzzles of the Harbor Guard’s rifles.

A flicker of panic appeared in the eyes of the Harbor Guard soldiers.

They held muskets in their hands, and their opponents had only flesh and blood. But there were simply too many of the cultists. They formed a wall of flesh and stood in front of the woman.

The Harbor Guard’s muskets had never met such resistance. Not even triple-layered armor could stop their bullets. Yet now, these followers stood firm in front of their rifles with nothing but their bodies.

One bullet could take a life, but how many bullets did they have? How many of these fearless zealots stood before them?

Sweat trickled down the soldiers’ foreheads.

At that moment, the prince suddenly spoke.

“Is what you say true?”

The woman looked at the prince and replied without hesitation, “Of course.”

“You say you want to save lives. Then, since you’ve already obtained food, you should retreat. Fighting now will only bring about needless death. That contradicts your doctrine.”

After speaking, the prince waved his hand.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out. Several strands of the woman’s hair were severed, and a bullet left a thin bloody scratch across her cheek.

The soldiers stirred, but the unrest was quickly suppressed.

Galahad stood at the rear, holding a bolt-action rifle—Hughes had given it to the prince. It came with a clip of bullets.

Erwin raised his eyebrows. The accuracy of a bolt-action rifle was extremely high, but they only had a handful of rounds. And yet it had now proven useful. Galahad, with his extraordinary physical capabilities, must have undergone training to wield it.

“If I kill you, and your followers lose their leader, can they defeat my Harbor Guard? How many of you will die? How many priests do you have? How many rifles do I?”

The prince’s tone was calm. “You’ve obtained food. Leave now. There are plenty of cults in Blood Harbor. If things descend into chaos, there will truly be no saving anyone.”

The woman glared at the prince, then looked toward the bolt-action rifle in Galahad’s hands, and finally at the Holy Guard on Castel’s side.

The Holy Guard also held bolt-action rifles.

Her eyes flickered. She raised her hand and gestured. The followers of the Mother of Life slowly retreated.

“I am Mira, High Priestess of the Church of the Mother of Life. Prince, we will meet again soon.”