Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Castel was indeed a magical place.

Bettys knew that if not for Castel, the humorous bald middle-aged man before her would only have been the lofty Grand Duke.

The reason those Noble Lords could shake hands and converse with her was not because they were kindhearted, but because Castel’s Ironclad Warship was docked not far away in the harbor, airships were visible with a simple glance upward, and patrol squads of the Cult of the Hidden stood along the streets.

Bettys’ gaze flickered.

It was the Church Guard of The Imperial Truth who had pulled her from the ruins of Blood Harbor. It was Hughes who had specially approved the relief funds that allowed her to hold her parents’ funeral. And it was Castel’s school that had fed her, so that she did not starve to death.

Even if Little Gwen had not gone missing, she would have donated some money to the Church.

Looking at the Grand Duke before her, Bettys suddenly no longer felt quite so nervous.

She had never eaten this Duke’s grain, nor received his help. They merely happened to stand upon the same patch of land.

“So delicious—another serving!” Alvare exclaimed, passing over a Rio.

“Thank you for your patronage!” Bettys skillfully revealed a smile, tossed the Rio into the Metal Money Box at the side, and the crisp clinking of coins mixed with the bubbling sound of oil. In the morning light of Blood Harbor, the sounds drifted away on the wind.

This was a magical land, one that always had sea breeze, sunlight, and hope.

“You let them go?”

The Prince withdrew his gaze from the window. The fragrance of fried fish squeezed in through the cracks, and Hughes could not help swallowing.

“Yes. Alvare demonstrated clear progress and a reformist inclination during his studies in Castel. I believe letting him return is the better choice—he will bring change to the Northlands.”

“I, however, believe that when settling accounts, one must cut the weeds and eliminate the roots,” The Prince said softly, as though speaking of something trivial.

“That depends on what you are settling. If you are settling accounts with the nobility, then of course you should let the nobles bleed out their last drop of blood. But what I am settling is ignorance and conservatism—and he—”

Hughes jerked his chin toward the window.

“He is not. Alvare is even more capable of accepting new things than the vast majority of the Castel People. To be honest, his learning ability is only average, but I do not believe his achievements will end there.”

The Prince’s eyes flickered. He suddenly turned his head and stared fixedly at Hughes.

“You are saying that you do not care about identity?”

“Yes. One’s birth can only determine the past. But if one clings to outdated and rotten doctrines of yesterday, it is impossible to move toward the future.”

After speaking, Hughes handed over a document. The Prince opened it, flipped through it quickly, and raised a brow.

“This Delegation of yours is outrageous enough—you abducted Her Holiness the Pope?”

“It was somewhat unexpected, but we completed the mission nonetheless.”

Zoe and Gaia had originally taken the train from Blood Harbor to the Northlands, then from the Northlands to Rhine of the Empire.

But now there was an additional Pope. Because Beatrice’s physical condition was extremely poor, after discussion, the Delegation decided not to transfer to another train. Instead, they would fly directly back to Blood Harbor by airship.

This would avoid secondary harm. After all, no one knew whether Beatrice could endure the strain of further transit.

Therefore, at White Stone Fortress, the Delegation had not left the airship. They merely sent someone down with a letter, replenished food and water, and then continued onward.

As for fuel, there was no need to replenish it. With Miss Fountain aboard, the Pollution used by the steam engines on the airship only burned more and more.

The train could travel from the Northlands back to Blood Harbor in half a day, and the airship… roughly the same.

The Wall of Despair lay almost at the westernmost edge of the Northlands. The total railway distance from White Stone Fortress to Blood Harbor exceeded a thousand kilometers. A train would take more than ten hours for the journey.

Although the airship was slightly slower than the train, it could travel in a straight line, without wasting time on detours.

Unfortunately, the Delegation’s news had already arrived in Hughes’ hands along with the train, while the airship had not yet flown even halfway.

Airships were greatly affected by weather. Zoe and her group had encountered a thunderstorm on the way and had been forced to descend to avoid it. They had not yet been able to set off again.

The Prince looked at the intelligence in his hand and remained silent for a moment. This was the result he had long anticipated, yet his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

“How do you intend to deal with this Pope? She is now not only the Pope of the Church of Candlelight and the Mechanical Sanctum, but she also concurrently serves as the Empress of the Empire.”

“I have said before—I do not care about identity. Whether Duke, Church, or Empress, I do not care. No one can choose their birth, but they can choose their future,” Hughes replied evenly, his voice steady and reassuring.

“So the one I will deal with is Miss Beatrice, not the Pope nor the Empress. My attitude depends on her choice.”

“Surnames, bloodlines, faith—these are important things. The secular world uses them to divide people into noble and lowly. But I do not.”

Hughes raised his head to meet The Prince’s gaze. Both saw determination in each other’s eyes.

Hughes knew this was The Prince’s test, and he understood why.

It was a matter of great importance. They were about to unite and launch a war against the greatest nation on the continent—a war that would sweep across the entire world.

They had to clarify each other’s stance.

Seated behind his desk, Hughes showed not the slightest hesitation.

He was no longer the young man who had just crossed into this world. The fervor still burned in his heart, but it had been tempered by time and war.

He was no longer a penniless idealist. The man sitting in this office was a genuine Frontier Count of the Empire.

With nothing but a single investiture decree and a handful of subordinates, he had pacified the maritime borders and the Northlands. Now, his blade pointed toward Rhine.

“So when do you plan to start the war?”

“There is no need to rush,” The Prince said softly. “I may also have a Ritual to complete.”

“Do you need assistance? You know, I acquired quite a bit of technology from the Mechanical Sanctum…” Hughes lifted the parcel in his hand. The technologies provided by Beatrice had already been studied aboard the airship and copied into a duplicate. Now they had arrived in his hands along with the train.

His words carried deeper meaning, yet The Prince did not respond to it.

“No need. I have my own arrangements. War involves many factors—I must prepare in advance.”

Hughes nodded.

Now Castel was the true leader. It would be good if The Prince was willing to contribute troops. Even without The Prince, even without the Principality of Tis, Castel did not fear a war with the Church of Candlelight.

Moreover, Castel had already entered a phase of high-speed expansion. Not only was Blood Harbor developing, but the Northlands now presented an entirely different landscape.

Hughes turned to look out the window.

Yami and Alvare had already left Bettys’ stall and were heading toward the Train Station.

They were preparing to go to the Northlands.