Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Carrying ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍a holy relic on them?

Hearing ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍this, the few of them instinctively tensed. It was Erwin who reacted first. He turned his head and glanced at an exquisite, long wooden box.

It ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍was something they had brought, intended as a gift to exchange technology with the Mechanical Sanctum—a Steam Rifle.

Perhaps ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Hela had some method of seeing through the wooden box. That was nothing unusual; many forms of Extraordinary Power could accomplish such a thing.

The ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Steam Rifle was indeed considered a holy relic. The Prince had once said that even the Mechanical Sanctum possessed only a few of these weapons.

But ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍compared to the Gear Sage, it seemed rather ordinary.

Yet the people of the Mechanical Sanctum clearly did not think so.

“This is a gift from Castel. Earl Hughes asked me to convey his greetings,” Erwin said as he opened the lid of the wooden box.

The moment the Steam Rifle was revealed, Erwin could clearly feel the breathing of the mechanical priests beside him grow heavier.

Their gazes toward the Steam Rifle were greedy and fervent, even tinged with shock.

Erwin remembered clearly that these believers had not reacted this way even when they saw the Gear Sage.

In contrast, Hela’s expression remained calm. She merely glanced at the Steam Rifle before shifting her gaze away.

“What a precious gift.”

“By good fortune, we happened upon this Steam Rifle. Even our Lord was astonished by its power.”

“What? You actually fired a holy relic?” a mechanical priest beside them cried out sharply, his voice filled with anger and disbelief. “Such a sacred creation—how could it be used!? Especially in such pristine condition! It should be enshrined within the sanctuary, with singers chanting sacred hymns day and night, anointed with Sacred Oil! And your Lord does not even understand this!”

Erwin’s face twitched, and for a moment he did not know how to respond.

Suddenly, the three of them felt the hairs on their bodies stand on end.

It was as if they were standing beside a massive Steam Engine. Even if the construct of steel merely stood there silently, it exuded a suffocating sense of oppression.

It was the most primal fear arising from flesh and blood.

None of the three dared to turn their heads, as though afraid of disturbing something. They merely shifted their eyes slightly toward Hela at their side.

Her pupils rotated gently, locking onto the talkative priest. Beneath the nun’s robe, a low mechanical grinding hum resonated from within her body.

She glanced at the three of them. After a moment, her tightly pressed lips relaxed, and she forced out a smile.

“Apologies, he was somewhat presumptuous. I will discipline him.” After saying this, she did not even spare a glance at the mechanical priest who had collapsed limply onto the ground. She merely waved her hand, and others stepped forward to carry him away.

The priest’s behavior had indeed been improper, yet within the Mechanical Sanctum—known for its extremism—it was not entirely unexpected by the people of Castel.

What they had not anticipated was the sheer oppressive presence Hela exuded.

The three exchanged glances, seeing shock reflected in each other’s eyes.

Was it not said that the Mechanical Sanctum had no Transcendents? Then why could even Gaia and Zoe—both Transcendents—sense her power?

At Hela’s signal, several mechanical priests carefully put away the Steam Rifle. She then led the three away from the hall where the Gear Sage resided and into a lounge in the rear.

“This will be your resting quarters. If you require anything, summon a mechanical attendant.”

“Thank you for your hospitality. May I ask when you might be available? We would like to discuss with the Mechanical Sanctum… the matter mentioned in the letter.”

The matter in the letter was, naturally, the technological exchange. In the letter sent by Earl Hughes, it had been almost explicitly stated that Castel possessed more holy relics and was willing to exchange them.

“His Holiness the Pope is currently unable to receive guests. As for me… I am available these next few days. Affairs of the Mechanical Sanctum are under my authority—just speak to me directly.” She abruptly shifted the topic. “I recall Earl Hughes mentioned in his letter that he would bring some goods from Castel?”

“Indeed. However, many of the items are rather large and inconvenient to carry. They are still aboard the Airship. I will have them delivered at once.”

Hela nodded lightly.

Candle Seat.

This was the largest cathedral of the Church of Candlelight in Rhine, and also the headquarters of its highest authority—the Council of Keepers.

However, the priests of the Church of Candlelight usually referred to it as the Candlelight Holy Nexus, or simply Rhine Cathedral.

Beatrice Joanne was confined here.

For a long time, she had only been permitted to move within her own chambers and the library. Rather than house arrest, it was more akin to enclosure.

But recently, the situation had improved somewhat. After becoming the Empire’s new Empress, the need to receive ministers and attend various occasions had loosened the restrictions placed upon her.

Beatrice also understood clearly that her only value lay in the “Joanne” surname and her identity as an Investigator. She did not cause trouble and instead obediently complied with the Church’s requirements.

Thus, she had gained a measure of limited freedom. At this moment, she was strolling curiously through a side hall.

The hall itself was unremarkable, yet it contained many strange and curious objects.

There were newly designed gas lamps of peculiar shapes; machine-knitted wool sweaters with fine, orderly stitching; delicate pocket watches; and even a massive Steam Engine that seemed to grumble endlessly.

Beatrice looked at one thing after another, touching this and examining that, her eyes filled with wonder and novelty.

At last, her steps halted before an unassuming small box.

She undid the clasps and lifted the lid. A refreshing fragrance wafted out at once.

It was one of Castel’s early industrial products—a crate of soap.

Beatrice had once brought some soap back to Rhine, displaying a few bars at salons to promote them. The effect had been excellent. Unfortunately, before she could expand their promotion, the Empress had been assassinated, and she had inexplicably become His Holiness the Pope of the Church of Candlelight.

The remaining soap naturally could not be given away. Even if she dared to offer it, no one would dare accept it.

Beatrice treasured them carefully. She believed she would likely never return to Castel again, so she used them sparingly. Out of an entire crate, she had only used a few bars. She especially loved the berry fragrance—the uniquely sweet fruit scent of Castel, which she had not smelled again since leaving that sea island.

Each time she lathered her hands, she would gently twitch her nose, breathing in the berry scent, allowing herself to be surrounded by it. It would bring back memories of her time in Castel.

That had been the happiest period of her life, and it had sustained her through many difficult days.

Beatrice took a bar of soap from the crate and gently inhaled its scent.

Later, Feniel had developed many additional fragrances, making the soap’s aromas more diverse and refined. A single crate contained dozens of bars, almost no two alike.

Yet after rummaging through them, Beatrice ultimately picked up an orange-red bar.

This one was berry-scented. It remained her favorite.

“The Ritual will soon succeed. Very soon, I will become a 【Named One】. And then…”

Beatrice lifted her head and looked toward Hela, who stood silently nearby.

Unlike before, there was no light in Hela’s eyes. They were hollow, like… a machine.