Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

The ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍Northlanders all liked using flails to crack people’s skulls. That was just a stereotype, but Nora and Gwen really did like it.

The difference was only that Nora still paid more attention to ritual propriety. She had to chant from the Holy Text, light the censer, and smash doctrine into the heretic’s brain.

Gwen was simpler and more brutal. She felt that smashing someone’s head itself already counted as a form of doctrine.

Of course, those were things of the past. Now the two of them were very likely the only two—or three—followers of the Silent Sanctum who could still move, and both of them had already lost their formal status within the Sanctum.

Nora had been expelled, while Gwen had never formally undergone baptism or joined the faith in the first place.

Therefore, neither of them had any qualms about knocking the heads of the Silent Sanctum’s priests. Judging from the slight upward curve of Nora’s lips, it was hard to say whether there was also a bit of personal grievance mixed in.

Among everyone present, the one who was actually most worried was Richard. He hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward to stop them. “You… aren’t you planning to smash him directly, are you?”

The Burier was indeed a Transcendent, and he did possess extremely high immortality, but no matter how one looked at it, it didn’t seem like he could withstand a hit from a flail.

Right now, the man was only unconscious. If one flail strike went down and his liver and brain were splattered everywhere, wouldn’t that turn into Castel deliberately committing murder?

If that couldn’t be explained clearly, who knew—maybe the Empire and Castel would end up fighting each other.

Gwen and Nora exchanged a glance. Both of them looked a little unnatural.

“Of course not!”

“How could that be!”

Nora cleared her throat. “Ahem. I plan to let Gwen carry out a Silent Sanctum awakening ritual. It just so happens that the main ritual implement is a flail. Gwen, go fetch a helmet.”

“Alright, Lady Nora.”

Gwen brought over a thick, heavy metal helmet. As Nora looked at it, a few traces of nostalgia and emotion surfaced in her eyes.

This was the helmet of the Icefield Heavy Armor, the standard equipment of Silent Sanctum priests. Nora herself had once worn this very armor while charging into battle.

Back then, she had always felt that the upward angle of the helmet’s design had some flaws and was prone to catching on the neck. Now, that worry was gone.

After all, she no longer had a neck that could be caught.

Seeing Nora’s nostalgic expression, Gwen scratched her head, then suddenly showed a look of realization.

She stepped forward and, with a click, buckled the helmet onto Nora’s head.

Nora: “…What are you doing?”

“Lady Nora, aren’t you reminiscing about the feeling of wearing a helmet? I’m helping you put it on!”

As Gwen spoke, she even reached out and patted the helmet. With Lady Nora in her current state, she must be in great pain. The helmet was probably the only piece of armor she could still wear. Gwen wondered whether Castel had any technology that could let Lady Nora stand up again and charge into battle alongside her.

“I wasn’t.” Nora’s voice sounded muffled. “And you put it on backwards.”

“What!?”

Gwen fumbled in a panic and lifted Nora up, only then realizing that it really was on backward. Nora’s smooth white long hair was spilling out from the helmet’s faceplate.

“S-sorry! Lady Nora!”

She hurriedly set Nora upright and placed her to the side, then fetched another Icefield Heavy Armor helmet.

When these Silent Sanctum priests had been sent over, they had all been fully equipped from head to toe. There were plenty of these things here.

Placing the helmet onto the priest lying on the bed, Gwen lifted the flail and gave it a shake, then looked toward Nora beside her. “Lady Nora, how exactly does the ritual go?”

“Gather your power onto the chain censer. It will be ignited… yes, just like that.”

Wisps of bluish smoke slowly drifted out from the head of the flail in Gwen’s hand. Gwen widened her eyes in surprise.

“That’s it? That simple?”

“…Actually, it isn’t simple. It requires praying according to the Silent Sanctum’s ritual and driving extraordinary power in a special way. As for you—forget it.”

Nora glanced at the completely bewildered Gwen and sighed.

Nora had come to realize that these rituals were somewhat superfluous for Gwen. She seemed able to skip some of the less important steps.

“Wow, this flail—I mean, censer—really is a bit different!” Gwen stared wide-eyed at the wooden handle in her hand. “It feels like I can pour my own will into it!”

“Of course. Most Silent Sanctum priests are not good with words. ‘Smashing doctrine into the brain’ isn’t just a figure of speech—it really can be smashed in. Of course, you don’t understand the Sanctum’s doctrine right now, so you can just smash the idea of waking them up into their heads.”

Gwen nodded excitedly, then suddenly thought of something and asked with curiosity, “This method of directly transmitting will doesn’t seem to be restricted by language, right? Then could it be that…”

Nora nodded, then nearly had her hair caught by the falling faceplate. “That’s right. When we encountered barbarians who didn’t share a common language, we used this method to communicate. So this censer can actually be considered a kind of translator. If you run into someone you can’t communicate with in the future, you can use the censer to reason with them.”

“Understood! Lady Nora!”

Standing off to the side, Richard looked at the flail in Gwen’s hand, then at Nora, whose hair was caught by the helmet. He swallowed the words that had already risen to his throat.

A flail couldn’t be used to reason with people, but it really could make people understand reason. In a certain sense, Nora wasn’t wrong.

“Alright, smash. Remember to—”

Bang!

“…go a bit lighter.”

Nora looked at the dent in the helmet and the corner of her mouth twitched.

That was an Icefield Heavy Armor helmet. It could withstand even a frontal musket shot, yet one swing from Gwen had caved it in.

Hopefully, the man was still alive.

“Lady Nora, it worked!”

Gwen excitedly pointed at the priest lying on the bed. Although he still hadn’t woken up, his eyelids had begun to twitch slightly, as if he were desperately trying to open his eyes.

“It feels like a few more hits will smash him—wake him up!”

Richard almost couldn’t hold it together. He felt that what was being awakened was probably the priest’s survival instinct. If he didn’t wake up soon, he probably never would.

“Is your method scientific?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Is a scientific method useful?”

“…”

“Ahem, Mr. Richard. Our method may not be scientific, but it should be sufficiently physical. This is a standard physical method.”

Come to think of it, it was strange how the Silent Sanctum was so proficient in physical awakening techniques.

What followed was rather boring. After discovering that this awakening method was effective, Gwen swung the flail until it left afterimages, smashing while loudly shouting:

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up for me!”

It had to be said—the momentum was impressive.

The Silent Sanctum was famous for the solid workmanship and excellent quality of both its weapons and armor, yet Gwen had actually smashed even the thickest Icefield Heavy Armor helmet to the point of ruin.

The corner of Richard’s eye kept twitching. Every time Gwen swung, his heart shuddered. Fortunately, the one being smashed wasn’t him.