Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

No tariffs?

The Prince almost began to doubt his own ears.

That claim was as absurd as the Church not collecting tithes.

Without tariffs, how would ports be maintained? How would the government operate?

The fleet, the Harbor Guard—those were black holes devouring Rio. Blood Harbor had been able to prosper precisely because it taxed sea merchants heavily enough.

He could understand collecting less, but not collecting tariffs at all—where would the money come from?

Hughes looked at the Prince’s bewildered expression and could not help but find it amusing.

It seemed he could use finance to give this world a little shock.

Let alone that this era was still using metallic currency—even in a modern age of credit money, as long as the market was open, an industrial nation could easily seize control of another country’s economic lifeline by dumping industrial goods.

Metallic currency?

A trade deficit could directly drain all of a nation’s silver and gold.

Hughes had little interest in precious metals, but he cared greatly about mines and forests.

As long as the market opened, Castel could easily use the invisible hand to turn other nations into its mines and raw material producers.

Heh, time to witness Hayek’s hand of a mage.

“This is only a preliminary intention. The specific measures will be drawn up gradually. Everything can be negotiated. Once the incentive policies are in place, there will only be more than what I’ve said, never less,” Hughes promised.

The Prince was dazed for a moment. After long, bitter contemplation, he finally sighed: “Alright, it seems I will once again witness Castel’s miracle in another area—let’s just hope the outcome won’t be too disastrous.”

If one sat at a table not knowing where to pay the bill, that only meant one was a dish upon the plate.

The Prince simply could not understand Hughes’s logic of making money. Let alone resisting it—if sold off, he might even help count the money.

“Don’t worry. Cooperating with me will only be win-win—that means both sides win together.”

“Win-win?” This was the first time he had heard the word, but it was not hard to understand. Yet between two sides, there was always a big win and a small win—either way, Castel would certainly not lose.

The Prince was not a man to hesitate endlessly. Quite the contrary, he began to feel somewhat excited.

“Next, I’ll be pushing forward a series of reforms in Blood Harbor. Results should appear very soon. These will benefit both Castel and Blood Harbor—it’ll be win-win!”

Hughes chuckled. He learned quickly enough.

“In addition, I also plan to temporarily halt the war against the Empire.” The Prince shrugged. “You know, all the supplies I worked so hard to accumulate were destroyed by the Compassionate Mother. As for those Followers of the Mother Goddess, I will definitely investigate the causes and consequences of this matter thoroughly.”

He gnashed his teeth as he spoke.

“There’s also that letter you asked me to write before. Those few in the North may not agree.”

The letter the Prince referred to was, of course, the one Hughes had asked him to write during their Blood Harbor negotiations.

It formally requested that the Northland lords allow Nora and the refugees to head south, with a promise of return benefits.

Hughes’s Castel had little connection with the northern lords, but it was different on the Prince’s side. They were theoretically allies—under the Prince’s leadership, no less.

Writing a letter was no big deal, so the Prince had casually agreed at the time. But now, with circumstances having shifted, he looked at Hughes seriously:

“If they refuse, I can send troops to the North to persuade them. Leave this matter to me. Tis is willing to help a friend settle a small problem.”

The value of Hughes and Castel far exceeded expectations, so the Prince did not hesitate to prepare additional investment.

He was not some lord who only fought civil wars and bullied cultists within his territory. Since ascending the throne, the Empire had scarcely known a single day without war.

If the northern lords combined forces, flattening them might be troublesome, but pressuring them to hand people over would not be difficult.

Don’t be fooled by the Harbor Guard’s poor performance in Blood Harbor—that had been against the very body of a Heretical God. On a real battlefield, facing those lords, the Prince was confident.

“That won’t be necessary,” Hughes said unhurriedly. “That letter was just a notice. The Holy Guard will personally supervise them to release the people.”

Seeing he had already prepared, the Prince did not say more.

Castel’s name was still obscure. It was about time a few wars let this remote island step onto the stage.

The road to the throne was always paved with blood. The Prince knew this all too well. But whose blood would be spilled—that was another matter.

“In that case, I won’t trouble you further. You have ships going to Blood Harbor, don’t you?”

“Yes. That ironclad warship returned from the Martha Archipelago recently and is set to depart for Blood Harbor. You can travel with that ship.”

The Prince’s eyes lit up. The value of the Martha Archipelago needed no elaboration, and rumor had it Hughes had only just begun development?

  It was just not convenient to reach out directly.

Moreover, going back with Castel’s ship would let him see what Hughes intended to transport to Blood Harbor. He certainly did not believe it would sail empty.

In fact, the Prince’s guess was right. After a few days, Hughes finally made up his mind and decided to send a batch of supplies to support Blood Harbor’s Mystics.

Josh had applied for a trading guild, after all, and they could also build a few factories—whether under Josh’s name or his guild’s name would make no difference.

That would be Castel’s bridgehead in Blood Harbor. Castel was, after all, an island. Spreading influence on the mainland still required indirect channels.

The Mystics were just such a useful organization.

Of course, their tenets and the Holy Text would need to be revised. As they stood, they were far too crude. As for the followers’ extreme beliefs—those too were unacceptable. At the very least, they could no longer revere him as a god.

Hughes’s thinking was still too simplistic. Even among the Holy Guard, explosive-yield worship was extremely difficult to eradicate. For Mystics who had personally witnessed divine miracles, how could faith be shifted so easily?

But for now, he remained quite optimistic.

After Hughes mentioned only a little, the Prince at once pounded his chest:

  “I have plenty of skilled craftsmen here. If you need anything, just say the word. Perfect timing too—Blood Harbor is to be rebuilt. The old land deeds no longer count. All will be reclaimed as public land—that means it’s mine. Rest assured, I’ll assign the Mystics a fine plot.”

Public land reclamation?

Hughes’s eye twitched. The Prince said it lightly, but Hughes listened seriously.

This was a major move. It would touch upon many vested interests, and pushing it through would inevitably be a storm of blood and slaughter.

But the Prince’s words… seemed feasible.

The Compassionate Mother had destroyed more than half of Blood Harbor. With the Prince reclaiming command of the Harbor Guard, perhaps with one decisive effort, he truly could succeed.

Solving land consolidation was among the hardest tasks for any dynasty. If he truly succeeded, then Blood Harbor would become a second blank canvas like Castel itself—and perhaps truly build a regime unlike any the world had ever seen!