Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

The Prince narrowed his eyes as he looked at the monster in the distance, not concealing the shock in his heart.

Although he had once been the Empress of the Empire, the apex of worldly power, it was normal that he knew little about such a creature—there had long been an unspoken agreement in the mortal world: the extraordinary belonged to the Church, and the secular to kings.

Even the vast Empire was no exception. Lords held nearly absolute authority over their domains, yet they never extended their hands into the extraordinary world.

It was not that they lacked interest—noble greed always exceeded everyone’s expectations—but that they were incapable of it.

Extraordinary knowledge always carried pollution. Without a systematic solution to counter it, even mere understanding could lead to corruption.

Even with the Empress’s authority, all she had gained was the loyalty of certain families. The Joanne Family, for example, had extraordinary individuals in nearly every generation and were staunch royalists. Yet, those extraordinary individuals ultimately still belonged to the Church.

If forced to choose between the Church and the royal family, the Joanne Family might waver, but the extraordinary within their bloodline would inevitably side with the Church.

For secular lords to touch the extraordinary, the only practical path was through heretical cults—just like Hughes, who had cooperated with them.

The Prince glanced at Galahad and, unsurprisingly, found the man wearing a similarly bewildered expression.

By virtue of her imperial authority, she could help her subordinates brush against the extraordinary, but when it came to actual mastery of knowledge and foundation, the Empire could not compare to the Church at all.

This was why Isabella, even if she could start over, would still choose to overthrow the Church—for as long as the Church existed, the Empire could never transcend the boundaries of the mundane.

The Prince knew little of the extraordinary, but a monster of such size was clearly beyond human opposition.

Thus, he did not immediately order the Harbor Guard into battle, but quietly listened to Granny’s explanation.

Only after she finished speaking did he grit his teeth and look toward the Compassionate Mother, a rare struggle flashing across his face.

Out at sea, near Blood Harbor.

Several Banshees gathered together. They did not speak, but their expressions shifted constantly.

Though outwardly silent, within their Mind Link they were already in heated debate.

『We must enter Blood Harbor at once! You saw that monster, didn’t you? The Holy Guard alone cannot restrain it!』

『Even with us, we cannot, can we?』

『Why not! The Holy Guard lost only because their firepower is too weak. We have heavy firepower—we can win!』

This squad of Banshees had been deployed precisely to prevent accidents. From the beginning, they had been prepared to face overwhelming enemies, their weapons and ammunition fully supplied. They had heavy firepower, and plenty of it.

『Did you forget what Granny just said? The situation is not yet truly urgent. Indeed, the Holy Guard cannot defeat the Compassionate Mother, but they can still hold her at bay. If we recklessly expose our presence, it will only bring trouble.』

『That’s true. This is Blood Harbor, not Castel. The one who should find a solution is that Prince—we’re not his nursemaids. If things truly turn dire, we can simply extract our own people!』

『How can you say that! Are we to cower on our little island for life? This is the perfect chance to display our strength. And besides—how many people live in Blood Harbor? Are we to just watch them die before our eyes?』

The Banshees descended into chaos. In the past, as slaves, they fought only for themselves. Their choices were only resistance or submission, and unity was easily reached.

Later, when they joined Castel, they became both Banshees and islanders. To defend their homeland, none would ever retreat.

But now, in this strange land, to fight against a heretical god summoned by a mob of Starving Masses—was this truly helping strangers oppress other strangers?

And at the core of it, they were Banshees. The islanders of Castel had fought shoulder to shoulder with them, but the people of Blood Harbor had not. Were they to risk themselves for an alien people?

When they swore loyalty, Hughes had promised never to send them into wars of external conquest. Their mission now was merely to receive their own people in Blood Harbor. Whether or not to help the locals fight the Compassionate Mother was left to their own will.

『Enough quarreling! Old rules apply—let us open our minds to one another.』

The Banshees fell silent and turned their gazes toward Ash.

Whether it was Hughes’s will or Ash’s command, they would follow. And now, they chose to settle the dispute with their ancient ritual—Mind Resonance.

The Banshees closed their eyes. Their faces bore varied expressions, but their minds gradually merged into one.

Countless emotions, thoughts, and principles flowed freely within each heart. In that instant, they utterly comprehended each other’s subtlest, most complex intentions.

The speakable, the unspeakable, the unspoken buried deep—everything converged here, crystallizing into a single will.

This was the Banshees’ innate gift. They were a race of the mind, born to understand one another.

Moments later, they opened their eyes. All disputes were gone. Together, they turned to Ash.

She was the battlefield commander, holding the highest authority in the squad. It was her role to make the choice—here and now.

Ash slowly stretched her body. Joints crackled one after another. Her streamlined form radiated power. She broke the water’s surface and raised her gaze toward Blood Harbor in the distance.

“Clansmen, let us follow our united will—onto the battlefield.”

In the deep sea, shadowy figures began to emerge, breaking the surface one after another.

Metal helmets. Metal armor. Only from the slits of their visors did faint light seep through—the manifestation of extraordinary power.

Water streamed from the edges of their heavy armor, dripping back into the sea. Long scaled tails slithered along the docks of Blood Harbor, leaving trails of wet marks behind.

The Banshees were tall even by nature, but clad in full heavy armor they became like giants. Rising from the sea, they resembled deities from the ocean depths.

For humans, moving underwater in such armor was suicide. But for the Banshees, armor several fingers thick was as light as a second layer of scales.

The faint metallic clinking of steel echoed as these iron giants marched upon the land of Blood Harbor.

Six-armed, they carried a diverse arsenal—twin-barreled Gatling heavy machine guns, steam rifles laced with mercury pipes, and massive iron chests filled with explosive charges sealed in waterproof compartments.

They advanced along the streets of Blood Harbor. Whatever stood in their way—ruined houses or followers of the Mother Goddess—was crushed beneath them.

The sky grew heavy with clouds. Thunder rumbled faintly within them.

Rain began to fall over Blood Harbor.