Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

“Lord, the preparations for the drill are complete. Galahad has also agreed to attend,” said Alexei, standing in Hughes’s office with a stack of documents in his hand. Hughes was signing them one by one.

After speaking, Alexei’s eye twitched slightly.

“Uh… should I bring Mr. Richard along too? Although Galahad’s condition seems stable now, seeing the Celestial Behemoth…”

“Don’t worry. I asked Richard. Galahad’s last fainting episode was just an accident—he was startled by the Polluted Serpents. Those things are technically parts of the Heretical God. The first time seeing them can be troublesome, but after a while, you get used to it.”

Hughes paused here.

After all, those Polluted Serpents were spread across the entire island. It was nearly impossible not to see them. After seeing enough of those massive tentacles, they no longer felt strange.

Alexei reluctantly accepted this explanation, though he still muttered under his breath for a while, mostly complaining about how fragile the outsiders’ extraordinary individuals were.

Neither of them realized that being able to look up and see the Heretical God’s limbs covering the island was, in itself, unnatural. These kinds of things—before you saw them, you feared them. The first time you saw them, you felt like you would go mad. But if you bombed them with explosives every day, eventually you’d feel nothing when you saw those tentacles.

Well, maybe not nothing. The grilled squid sold on the island had been doing particularly well.

Thinking of this, Hughes also felt a bit uneasy. After a brief hesitation, he spoke again, “Forget it. I’ll bring Richard along.”

Alexei: “.”

The drill site was located on the eastern side of the island, near the sea, where there was a vast stone cavern that filled with seawater during high tide.

Previously, Monica’s contamination outbreak had occurred here. Later, it was repurposed to store contamination and conduct experiments. Ash had even raised a wolf here at one point, which she later brought into the Network Path for foster care. It was said that someone traveling through the Network Path had heard eerie wolf howls.

Today, the Holy Guard had cordoned off a large area near the cavern and set up a security perimeter in advance.

The spectator area for Hughes and the others was set slightly to the west, far enough from the eastern cavern while still offering a good view.

Seated in one of the chairs, Galahad looked toward the security perimeter near the sea with some confusion, then turned to Hughes.

He had met this lord a few times already. The first time had been at the hospital… excluding the awkwardness of that encounter, Galahad had a rather good impression of him.

He was extremely knowledgeable and could answer nearly all of Galahad’s questions—and was also willing to explain things.

Galahad had encountered other lords who had made their own inventions, but without exception, all of them hoarded their knowledge tightly, as if others could steal it with a single glance.

Hughes, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. He left his knowledge virtually unguarded. Galahad wasn’t someone who overstepped boundaries, but in deep conversations, he did sometimes ask for details.

Yet Hughes never got angry. Instead, he happily explained the principles and reasoning. The two often ended up talking for long stretches—about everything from improvements to steam engines to the pros and cons of elite education.

In Galahad’s heart, comparing Hughes to other lords was an insult. Only the lord to whom he had sworn allegiance could be considered on the same level as Earl Hughes.

Still, this Earl Hughes occasionally did some rather baffling things—like now.

“My lord, the bombing drill you mentioned… is it over there?”

He pointed to the distant security perimeter.

The distance was… honestly a bit too far.

Galahad didn’t know what exactly a “bombing” was—presumably some sort of weapon demonstration.

He had heard that bolt-action rifles had an effective range of seven hundred meters and didn’t quite believe it at first. It wasn’t until he used one himself that he realized even that figure was conservative.

And this “bombing”—perhaps it was another type of musket? Maybe it could shoot even farther? But still…

Galahad measured the distance between their location and the designated area. This was just ridiculous.

At such a distance, what could you even see?

But Hughes didn’t explain. He simply raised a finger to his lips in a quiet gesture.

Galahad blinked. As an extraordinary individual, his body was more sensitive than an ordinary person’s, so he too heard the sound coming from afar.

It seemed to be a mechanical sound, carrying the cold hardness unique to steel, yet rhythmic—reminding Galahad of the train he had once seen.

The train…

A flash of embarrassment crossed Galahad’s face. Back then, he had lost control and fallen into temporary madness, charging at the train with his longsword.

Thankfully, the train was unharmed, the people were fine, and although the longsword was damaged, Castel had no shortage of steel.

The next day, when he woke up, there was a row of longswords hanging in the ward. Take your pick, any you like.

Pushing away the awkward memory, Galahad tried to determine where the sound was coming from—which wasn’t hard, though the answer surprised him.

It came from the sky.

Today was cloudy, with thick, heavy clouds overhead, one after another, covering most of the sky.

So that’s it. Galahad nodded. It sounded like an airship. The airship that landed in Blood Harbor had been outfitted with a steam engine and a propeller. Though the prince’s craftsmen had done their best, they hadn’t managed to get it running again. Still, Galahad had a rough idea of how it worked.

But soon, Galahad furrowed his brow.

Wasn’t this sound… a bit too loud?

The noise from the sky grew louder and louder. He looked up toward the clouds, but found himself disoriented—he couldn’t tell the exact direction of the airship anymore. The humming seemed to be coming from everywhere.

He stood up without realizing it, lifting his head and staring at the sky.

The clouds were dense—thick and heavy, covering the entire sky and blocking out the sunlight.

Galahad raised his head and waited. Suddenly, sunlight spilled across his face.

His pupils contracted instantly.

A massive rift had been torn into the clouds overhead, and an unimaginably colossal entity was descending thunderously from above. The turbulent air currents twisted the clouds into long streaks.

It was as if the sky itself was collapsing.

Sunlight streamed through the gap, only to be blocked again a moment later by the descending behemoth. The deafening roar of countless steam engines and shrieking whistles echoed through the air, like the furious roar of this celestial behemoth.

It wasn’t descending quickly—at least, not relative to its enormous size. But to Galahad, it felt like the sky itself was about to fall, like a giant’s foot stomping down from above.

His heart pounded violently. His body wanted to flee, but it also trembled in fear. Galahad’s mind went blank. This was the most primal fear of a living creature—the terror of facing an unknown, unstoppable existence.