Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

“I remember your residence is in the Upper District.”

“That’s right. Look, that one over there.” The Prince raised his hand and pointed to a high point in the northwest, where a half-collapsed house stood.

“You gave me all of Blood Harbor—where will you live then?”

“Maybe I’ll go take a look at Castel?” The Prince raised his brows. “I’ve heard Galahad go on about it so many times. I’ve long wanted to see it with my own eyes.”

Hughes narrowed his eyes and smiled as he met the Prince’s gaze. After a moment, the Prince sighed and looked away.

“There will be a battle between me and the Church eventually. I’ll build a residence after I win. I won’t die of old age in bed.”

Hughes nodded. This was exactly what he wanted to confirm. There was no possibility of compromise between the Prince and the Church. After all, the Prince’s forces were made up entirely of the Empire’s rebels. Their war against the Empire was what bound them together.

Fighting the Empire was one thing—but if Castel stabbed them in the back, this fragile alliance would shatter instantly.

Then forget Blood Harbor—even the Principality of Tis might not remain. That was why the Prince was so generous this time, offering up Blood Harbor to placate Hughes.

However, knowing the Prince’s tendency to use everything to its fullest, this wasn’t the end of it. He probably intended to drag Castel into the mess as well.

Hughes looked at the contract for the transfer of Blood Harbor lying on the table, rubbing his chin.

To be honest, he hadn’t really planned on pocketing Blood Harbor.

Occupation required soldiers, and defending it required even more manpower. Castel had the entire Martha Archipelago—it didn’t lack land, it lacked people.

So taking Blood Harbor served no purpose. With Castel’s strength, if they truly wanted it, they could seize the city within a few hours.

But taking it by force and legally owning it were two different things.

This “legal” didn’t necessarily mean in line with the Empire’s laws, but rather in line with general consensus.

What the Prince offered him was exactly that. Once he accepted, taking complete control of the port would be just a matter of time—and it wouldn’t come with the fallout of a forced occupation.

The key question was: what did the other party want in return?

Hughes didn’t feel like playing guessing games. He decided to ask directly.

“Let’s be straightforward,” Hughes said, tapping the Blood Harbor contract with his finger. “I see your sincerity—so what do you want in return?”

“Support from Castel,” the Prince answered without hesitation.

“You can support us in secret, of course—but it’d be even better if you formally joined our alliance against the Empire. I’ll be going to war with them soon. Weapons, food, fuel—I need everything except ironclads!”

“Whatever raw materials you need, just tell me. I have my ways. Any goods you’re willing to sell, we’ll take. What we can’t take, we’ll find buyers for. And beyond that, you’ll gain something even more precious—”

The Prince raised a thumb and pointed to himself. “The friendship of the Duke of Tis.”

Hughes made a gesture that said, “Go on.”

“I noticed your Holy Guard. Every one of them is literate. Most know some engineering principles. They can even talk in detail about production processes. Having elite soldiers is certainly a good thing, but yours are a bit too elite. So I’m guessing…”

The Prince leaned on the table and stood up. “You’re short on population, aren’t you? These people were recruited from factories, right? No more lines to fill?”

It wasn’t hard to guess—and it couldn’t be hidden. Hughes slowly nodded.

“Well then, isn’t this perfect?” The Prince smiled and extended his hand. “I’m going to fight the Empire. War always creates refugees. These refugees will be strong laborers. Though they hate the Principality of Tis, you were appointed Frontier Count by the Empress herself—a legitimate noble of the Empire. They’ll definitely be willing to submit.”

Hiss...

Hughes sucked in a breath. If one followed this logic, the Prince had tossed away an undefendable Blood Harbor, secured much-needed weapons, resolved his problem of fighting on two fronts—and even preemptively handled the future refugee situation?

Hughes? Hughes ought to thank him.

Even if the man was scheming, Hughes couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration. The Prince truly made full use of every advantage, striving for every last benefit. Such tenacity truly deserved success.

And to be fair, Hughes didn’t dislike it. The Prince’s proposal was an open strategy—mutually beneficial, and remarkably generous. He offered up all of Blood Harbor just like that, not even keeping his own residence.

A trace of appreciation appeared in Hughes’s eyes. He clapped lightly. “Quite the clever plan. But I refuse.”

“What are your terms then?”

“A small Holy Guard garrison stationed in Blood Harbor. Permission for the Imperial Truth to preach. Free trade. And I need you to write a letter to the Northlands. Hm… it’s something you promised Josh.”

“Promised Josh? Promised what exactly?” The Prince frowned.

Suddenly, his gaze drifted. He tilted his head slightly, then nodded. “Ah… it’s about Nora, right? No problem. I’ll formally request that Earl Bazel release her in the name of the Duke of Tis. If he refuses, I can even send troops.”

“That won’t be necessary. My envoy will speak with the Earl personally. You just need to help transfer the northern refugees.”

“No problem. Once they set foot in Tis, no one will be able to harm them. Any pursuit against them will be a direct provocation to me.” The Prince promised without hesitation. “Anything else?”

Hughes shook his head, stood up, and extended his hand. “That’s all. Do you accept, Your Highness William?”

The Prince paused for a moment, then smiled. “Of course, no problem! In my name, Castel and Tis are now friends!”

He quickly grasped Hughes’s hand and shook it vigorously, as if afraid he’d change his mind.

Thus, the first alliance between Castel and the outside world was signed. Though it was only a verbal agreement, neither side doubted its validity.

Then the two of them stepped outside and publicly announced their friendship.

The Holy Guard disembarked from the ironclad and worked with the Harbor Guard to clean up the battlefield and assess the damage throughout the area.

They remained busy until evening, when the Prince finally got a brief moment of rest, slumping into his soft chair.

This was his residence in the Upper District—half-collapsed, with this office even offering a partial view of the starry sky.

A translucent figure appeared beside him.

“Isabella, you signed a contract with Hughes just like that? Aren’t you worried it might be a trap?”

“What kind of trap could it be? Either he’s after my land, or after my wealth. Neither of those matter to me. If he wants them, let him have them.”

A trace of confusion flickered across the Prince’s phantom-like face. “They don’t matter? Then what does matter? Weapons? Ammunition?”

“Knowledge.”