Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

“Actually, it wasn’t always like this. I’m from Blood Harbor, born in the slums of the Lower District. When I was a child, I was always hungry.”

Gwen lifted her head and saw that the one speaking was the Stoker.

“Tis was always plagued by wars and famines. People died in batches, one after another. Truth be told, it’s not only now that people flee to Castel. Back then, when starvation became unbearable, they also went there. Though some might be thrown into the sea by pirates to feed the fish, at least they wouldn’t starve to death—there were many sweet fruits on that island, enough to keep people alive.”

“But if one can somehow manage to survive, who would willingly leave their home?”

Gwen couldn’t help but nod. She remembered her own village from childhood. Too many years had passed, and her memories had grown faint. She only remembered that it had been a peaceful place.

Unfortunately, she could never return there again.

“We’ve had many Lords, but it never made much difference. Some started out decent, but before long they turned rotten again. In the end, people still couldn’t fill their stomachs.”

“Things only started to get better in recent years. The Prince—His Highness William—after returning from Rhine, it was as if he became a different person. He killed off the nobles, and suddenly, everyone’s life improved quite a bit.”

“Later, Blood Harbor fell into chaos again. The Church of the Mother Goddess led a rebellion. So many, so many people died. Most of them just wanted to bring home a little more food for their families, but they all ended up dead—couldn’t even find their bodies.”

“Did you join the Expeditionary Army at that time?” Gwen asked curiously.

“Haha, how could I? The Expeditionary Army was formed after that. When the Church of the Mother Goddess rebelled, Blood Harbor was left a heap of ruins. The survivors stood there in despair, staring at what was once their home.”

“To be honest, I felt empty inside back then—completely hollow. I couldn’t feel a thing. Even if someone had slit my throat with a knife, I don’t think I would have reacted.”

Gwen felt a tightness in her chest. The suffering of Blood Harbor was no different from that of the Northlands—wars that came and went, and a future without hope.

Perhaps the only difference lay with that Prince—he swung his blade upon the nobles high above, letting them taste despair for once.

When Gwen raised her head to look at the Stoker again, she found that his face showed little numbness from suffering. Instead, his brow was relaxed, and his expression carried a faint excitement.

With a trembling voice, he said,

“That was when Castel came.”

“I don’t know how they changed so much. Just a few years ago, they were digging in the dirt for food like us, needing to bow to pirates even to cast a few nets for Devil Fish.”

“But this time, they came on great iron ships!”

“The ships were so tall, so massive. When I first stood beside one and looked up, I fell flat on my back—but I didn’t even feel pain. I just stood there in a daze, staring.”

“At that moment, I thought—this must be what the Empress’s own vessel looks like!”

“Of course, all that had nothing to do with us. The Upper District had plenty of palaces and manors—we could only watch from afar.”

“But—hey, but!”

He slammed the iron shovel in his hand against the ground. Steel struck steel, sending out a deep, resonant clang.

“Castel built schools in Blood Harbor. Built factories. Built railways.”

“Those schools didn’t charge tuition. Honestly, I had never seen such a thing. They even provided meals. Many who would’ve starved to death survived because of that. When they went home at night, their bellies were full—and their heads, too.”

“Somehow, I learned to read and write. My body grew stronger. Then they asked if I wanted to work in a factory. Not only could I eat my fill, I’d even get pay—Rio! I’d never seen such a good thing in my life!”

“After I became a worker, they told me workers could attend free advanced classes. After graduation, the pay would be even better. So I read more books, and learned how to fire a boiler.”

“Later, when trouble broke out in the Northlands, the Lord announced the conscription of the Expeditionary Army. Haha, this time, they didn’t have to come looking for me—I signed up myself!”

The Stoker straightened his back, and a proud smile broke through the coal-dusted grime on his face.

“Don’t be fooled by my short time as a worker—I’m good with boilers. I don’t really understand the Northlands, and I’m no fighter, but when it comes to firing boilers, there’s no problem. The Lord needs me, so here I am.”

Looking at the man standing tall before her, Gwen felt suddenly dazed.

Faces flickered through her mind—Wood, Rick, Hela—many of her old comrades from the Expeditionary Army. They had followed her for so long, yet she had never seen such an expression on their faces.

Some had gone to Castel. Others had fallen forever in the endless snowstorms of the Northlands.

If they were still alive, would there be another proud worker on this train in a few years, introducing himself just like this?

Watching the light in the Stoker’s eyes, Gwen fell into a trance.

She had not yet reached Blood Harbor, but she could already feel the city’s vitality and hope.

“How wonderful…”

If only her old comrades could see it too.

The train roared forward like an unending river. The setting sun stretched the shadows beneath everyone’s feet. Smiles and sunlight mingled together, and this scene etched itself deeply into Gwen’s heart.

That became her very first impression of Blood Harbor.

In Gwen’s arms, Nora lifted her head to glance at her, then turned her gaze toward the Stoker, hesitating.

After a moment, she couldn’t hold back her question.

“Why aren’t you tending the boiler now? Isn’t it a problem to stay here all the time?”

The Stoker’s smile froze.

“The Steam Engine kicked me out.”

“Huh?”

Gwen’s face twitched. Suddenly, she realized that perhaps her impression of Blood Harbor was… still incomplete.

After entering the city, the train began to slow. Blood Harbor no longer had a proper wall—or rather, it once did, but it had been destroyed.

Past the refugee camps—or what might better be called the outer shantytowns—the city’s appearance changed abruptly.

The old brick houses vanished, replaced by rows upon rows of concrete buildings.

Though Blood Harbor had developed rapidly, the reconstruction time was still short. None of the buildings had been painted yet.

Before Gwen’s eyes stretched endless ranks of lead-gray, sharp-edged houses covering the entire city. The unadorned walls and angular lines emanated a quiet strength, like stone that had endured unchanged for a thousand years.

Solid. Orderly. Clean. Strong.

“These houses are beautiful. Living in one must be wonderful. Are all of Blood Harbor’s homes like this?” Gwen asked with a touch of excitement, looking down at Nora in her arms.

Nora shot her a glance but said nothing.

Gwen soon understood why—the train had entered the very heart of Blood Harbor.