Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

Chapter 668 ·There’s No Saving Her, Just Wait for Death

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On ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍the airship, Beatrice forced her ruined body to hold on and, at last, turned her head to look toward Rhine City.

Layer ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍upon layer of towering cathedrals overlapped in the skyline. Exquisite and resplendent Suspended Arcaded Corridors and plazas stretched outward, sunlight pouring over white marble inlaid with gold edges, as though it were heaven itself.

But ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍in her memory, this city had not looked like this.

Rhine ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍City—she had been born here. Back then, there had not been so many churches. Crude factories had stood everywhere. The sky had always been gray and hazy. The workers had been coated in thick soot, yet when they laughed, their white teeth had shone through.

And ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍now, it had become a delicate cage, imprisoning her within.

The ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍medics aboard the airship immediately began bandaging her, yet the bleeding would not stop.

Her injuries had come from within.

The ritual had shattered the High Wall of Reality, connecting the Sea of Unawareness with the present world, allowing the seawater to surge through—and into her body.

And then it had stopped abruptly, with no further development.

Most of the seawater within her had inexplicably vanished to some unknown place, yet much still remained.

The seawater of the Sea of Unawareness was not “water” that existed in reality, yet it could directly affect this world. For Transcendents, it was essentially equivalent to pollution.

The only reason she had not yet been eroded was that her unyielding will was barely sustaining her final breath. One could even say that her body was already dead—she simply refused to accept it.

This unstable world did have its advantages. If one’s will to reject death was resolute enough, it was indeed possible to delay execution.

But the price was torment, every moment.

“No need… to treat me. It’s useless…”

She forced the words out one by one through clenched teeth, yet a trace of happiness lingered on her face.

This might have been the only time in her life that she had truly obtained freedom—even if it was nothing more than a final struggle before death.

The medic quickly realized she was telling the truth. The medics of The Imperial Truth had mostly been trained by the Hospital Knights and were closer to battlefield doctors. Being able to determine which wounded were beyond saving was basic training.

So they turned to check on Gaia and Zoe instead.

The two of them lay exhausted on the ground, and no one even dared approach.

If a Transcendent’s state was unstable, they could easily be devoured by the Sea of Unawareness. Acting rashly would only make matters worse.

Coincidentally, neither of them had been Transcendents for long, and this battle had overdrawn them severely. Enduring it now was even more difficult.

“How… is the situation now?” Zoe recovered slightly faster and turned her head to look at Erwin, who was standing guard nearby.

“Mm, actually, once you boarded the airship, there was no problem. While we were waiting to dock, we received a message from Beatrice telling us the Banquet Hall Dome would open and to go provide support. So we came and picked you up.”

He glanced at Beatrice at the side, his expression turning a little more serious.

This Pope had truly acted decisively—abandoning all status and position to flee directly, and even trusting outsiders like them.

Whatever else could be said, she had courage.

“I saw them firing at the airship. Was there no damage?”

“Damage? From those little water pipes?” Erwin laughed. “Miss Zoe, you haven’t had much contact with machinery, so you don’t know what level airships have reached now. Simply put—even if we didn’t ascend and just hovered there taking their fire head-on, there wouldn’t be any problem.”

Erwin knocked on the wall of the passenger carriage. “An airship is a combat unit. The underside is fully armored.”

Castel’s airships had taken a different path from those on Blue Star. In a world where anti-air firepower was weak, airships equipped with heavy armor could serve as the main force in aerial combat, and their clumsiness had relatively little impact.

After the war in the Northlands, Castel’s technological direction had gradually shifted. Airships not only began adding armor but also comprehensively strengthened their ground-defense capabilities.

The current main battle airships could push forward directly against ground fire and bomb targets below. The airship used by their delegation did not need to carry bombs, so the extra payload had been filled with more and thicker armor plates. It had ascended directly under volleys of musket fire.

It was said that Tata was even researching a new type of airship that carried no bombs at all, stacking everything into armor instead, replacing bombardment with simply dropping the entire airship from the sky and crushing targets by sheer weight.

An idea on par with attaching a battering ram to an airship.

Zoe, who worked in clerical duties, clearly had not been exposed to such eccentric research concepts. She could only nod blankly.

Beside them, Gaia took a deep breath and gradually recovered.

She did not concern herself with the battle. Erwin was far more professional in that regard. Instead, she examined Beatrice’s condition.

“She won’t last long.”

Will could indeed interfere with the world. But will did not arise from nothing—it at least required a physical body as its vessel.

And Beatrice’s body was on the verge of collapse.

What flowed from her now was no longer just blood. The blackened fluid carried a dangerous aura—pollution was about to completely erode her.

Once a Transcendent was fully eroded, it was easy for them to transform into a monster. A heavily armored squad from the Church Guard had already fully equipped themselves, ready to engage at any moment.

Beatrice let out a bitter laugh and spoke weakly, “Throw me… down. As long as it’s not in Rhine City…”

“No. There’s still a way.” Gaia’s voice was low and steady. “Her biggest problem right now is excessive pollution erosion. We just need to suppress the pollution.”

Beatrice’s eyes flickered.

Of course she knew her own problem. But knowing and solving were two different matters.

If pollution were that easy to suppress, the Storm Ocean would not have become a forbidden zone for Transcendents.

The major Churches did indeed have some methods for suppressing pollution. For example, the Church of Candlelight had its Moon Candle, and the Silent Sanctum had specially prepared “sugar.”

But such things were mostly auxiliary in nature. They took effect slowly and were mediocre at best.

“It’s useless. No need…”

“Stoker, stuff her into the boiler of the Steam Engine. Find the foulest-tempered Machine Soul—yes, the one that curses at everyone!” Gaia ordered in a deep voice.

“???”

Beatrice’s mind filled with question marks.

She felt the erosion must have grown severe enough to produce hallucinations. She understood every word she had just heard, but combined together they became strange, twisted whispers.

So she had truly lost control after all—even auditory hallucinations had begun.

Resigned, Beatrice closed her eyes.

Then the Stoker at her side hoisted her up and tossed her into the boiler—of course, the unlit kind.

Even when the furnace door slammed shut with a bang, her face remained full of bewilderment.

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