Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

The selection of the Expeditionary Army had not yet begun, but the first batch of rails had already been delivered to Blood Harbor.

This was thanks to Galahad’s networking everywhere—after the Prince learned that Hughes had such an idea, he immediately sent Galahad over. He made all sorts of promises as if they cost nothing, with only one core principle:

As long as the railway could be built in Blood Harbor, it did not matter how messy things became.

Even Hughes felt a little embarrassed—the Prince was being far too cooperative.

So, the first shipment of railway construction materials was sent over in advance.

Satisfied, Galahad took his leave. He arranged for men to pass on the news and personally accompanied the shipment of rails by ship. However, he himself remained in Castel and did not leave.

This was at the Prince’s request. He intended to establish a “Principality of Tis Office in Castel.” It did not really serve any other purpose; the moment Hughes had a project he wished to cooperate on, Galahad was to take it up immediately.

There was no helping it—just this one shipment of rails brought over from Castel matched the amount of Rio the Prince had painstakingly accumulated over a long time. And this was only the materials sent first; the construction personnel had not even been selected yet.

On the Prince’s side, they had already obtained the complete knowledge set of the rails—from the principles of the railway and the train, to how to lay tracks, and the training of the engineering corps.

All this had arrived together with the rails. As for the basic knowledge of railways, it had even begun being disseminated earlier.

There was no choice—in the relatively chaotic place that was Blood Harbor, if the rails were delivered directly, people might take them for some bizarre object, and if it caused Cognitive Interference, it would be troublesome.

Meanwhile, the cooperative workers on the Prince’s side had long since received training. The Cult of the Hidden had already been teaching them for some time. Now, most of them had completed literacy classes and could perform basic reading.

Which meant they could start reading instruction manuals on their own.

As for the railway construction plan, naturally, the Prince wished for the tracks to twist and turn through Blood Harbor a hundred times, covering every district. But Castel would certainly not design it that way.

After all, this was not a passenger metro. Railways were not suitable for building too extensively within a city, as they would cause all sorts of messy troubles. The planning of rail transport required careful consideration.

After bringing together a group of researchers to fuss over it for half a day, Hughes finally settled on a general plan:

The line would cross Blood Harbor from the docks, pass through a planned industrial zone and barracks, and then head straight out toward the Northlands.

This construction had an advantage: after unloading cargo at the docks, it could be directly lifted onto the train by gantry cranes, greatly improving transport efficiency.

At the same time, Josh had returned to Blood Harbor and completed mobilization within the Cult of the Hidden. A large number of followers joined the preliminary construction and began making contact with Castel’s Holy Guard.

Hughes had already paid close attention to the Cult of the Hidden in the past. This organization, rooted in Blood Harbor, was Castel’s best channel for radiating influence onto the continent.

It was just that their faith was somewhat extreme.

After some research, Hughes did not directly abolish or forcibly seize control, but instead dispatched several Political Commissars to supervise and guide them to a certain extent.

After all, the ideology of the Holy Guard was not particularly proper either—they worshipped Explosive Yield all day long. Who knew what bizarre things might emerge if combined with the Cult of the Hidden.

Thinking about the ships Castel built, the cannons they made, Hughes suddenly felt a sense of powerlessness.

Had this technology tree perhaps been developed a little off-track?

No. At least the foundation remained solid. He was climbing the chemical industry chain, which was a proper industrial path. As long as he paid more attention in the future, he would surely be able to correct the skewed development of technology.

Several days slipped by in a flash.

The recruitment for the Expeditionary Army proceeded smoothly. Perhaps Alexei faced some difficulties, as the recruitment office doors were often broken down from being crowded, but at least enough people were conscripted—

In fact, more than enough.

“...Bribery?” Hughes raised his head in surprise.

“That’s right.” Alexei sighed. “I think it’s Galahad who spoiled the atmosphere. Ever since that so-called office of his was set up, everyone has been running around pulling strings.”

“You don’t need to worry about him for now. Did someone try to bribe you?”

“Plenty! Every day people come to curry favor, bringing gifts in hopes of securing a quota for the Expeditionary Army. I just don’t understand—this is going to war, so why are they scrambling to get in?”

Hughes cast him a glance and said expressionlessly, “Since you think it doesn’t matter, you can just give your own quota to them. Wouldn’t that solve it?”

Alexei’s eyes widened. “How is that the same?”

“Enough, don’t talk about this nonsense. I came to ask you something—the departure ceremony of the Expeditionary Army, was it you who designed it?”

“Yes.”

“What’s this process about? Why are there lines for Nora?”

“Nora?” Alexei froze for a moment, then realized. “Oh, you mean the sacrificial ritual? That’s a tradition before the army sets out. They must worship the fallen and, by the way, ask whether this battle will be dangerous. I learned it at the Royal Army Academy.”

Hughes nodded. It did sound like a proper procedure.

“Then I thought—who represents the fallen better than Nora? So I just made the target of the ritual Nora. When the time comes, we can just ask Nora whether it’s dangerous or not.”

Hughes’s eyes widened. “Your thinking is certainly unusual. But Nora is not a prophet! If she answers you on the spot with ‘I don’t know,’ wouldn’t that be terribly awkward?”

“No matter. In the past, the fallen never jumped out to answer either.”

“Then—”

“So, what we ask is whether it’s dangerous, not whether it will go smoothly. If no one jumps out to say ‘dangerous,’ then it means it’s not dangerous.”

Hughes covered his face. “Who did you learn this ritual from?”

“The Empire. The Empress decides whether or not to go to war this way every time.”

“Then—”

“Then they just go to war every time. That’s how the Empire conquered such vast territory.” Alexei shrugged.

“...”

Hughes paused for a while, feeling as if he could hardly breathe.

Was the Empire always this ceremonial?

“Let’s skip this Q&A part for now. I have another question—what’s this business about letting Nora read the letters?”

“Oh, that too is an Imperial tradition I learned at the Academy. Before setting out, the soldiers write their last letters, then burn them for the fallen. You know, it became letting Nora read them instead—as a show of courage, leaving their weakness behind with the fallen, and carrying only courage to the battlefield.”

“Truly excellent.” Hughes thought about it and gave a serious praise. “Leaving weakness behind, carrying courage to the battlefield—the Empire’s rituals are indeed carefully designed. Just hearing it makes one’s blood boil.”

After he finished, he sighed. “There’s only one small problem—Nora is also going with you to the battlefield.”

Alexei blinked. “Huh?”