Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 314 Steam and the Deep Sea Secret Order
“We beseech Count Hughes, the god of steam and the deep sea, whose power will protect the believers and grant us sustenance and peaceful sleep.”

"You are the lungs of the boiler, breathing in and out the sparks of life;"

"You are the tongue of the gear, the secret language of licking the engine oil."

"If our spines could be twisted into bolts,"

"Willing to anchor myself in your trembling echo,"

"Until flesh and blood rust together with cast iron,"

"We vow to fight the pistons to the bitter end!"

Let us sing together—

"Praise be to the great Count Hughes, praise be to the holy Castel, praise be to His sea kingdom!"

In a slightly dilapidated room, a group of people were prostrating themselves on the ground, praying loudly.

Directly in front of this group of people were several hooded figures, and in front of them was a huge pot from which steam rose in wisps.

“Alright, the ceremony is over. Let’s begin distributing the holy water.” A hooded man stepped forward and said. Although he tried to make his voice sound hoarse and deep, it still couldn’t hide the naivety in it—he must be a young man.

The people who had knelt on the ground immediately stood up and formed an orderly queue, clearly not the first time they had done this.

A group of ragged children huddled at the end of the line, whispering amongst themselves.

"Gwen, do you think Castel really exists? I... I still can't quite believe it. Is there really a place where you'll never go hungry, where you'll always have a place to live, and where you can earn money just by working?"

"I don't believe it either."

"Huh?" The little boy was stunned, looking at the petite girl in front of him with a blank expression. "Then, why are we here?"

The girl pointed ahead, where several people were holding bowls, and the priest, dressed in a hooded robe, was pouring holy water for them.

The holy water, still steaming, was ladled from the pot and poured into bowls, where it was immediately poured into the mouths of the eager believers.

They weren't afraid of the heat; they slurped and swallowed, refusing to stop even when tears streamed down their faces.

"What is that..." the boy asked instinctively.

"I don't know. I only know that in the lower city, the followers of the Lord of Steam and the Deep Sea have the best complexion." The girl glanced at the people queuing up to receive holy water and said in a low voice, "If they wanted to find offerings, they probably wouldn't be feeding them so well."

The woman in front twitched her ears, glanced at the group of children, and her gaze lingered on Gwen's long white hair for a few seconds.

"Northerners?" she asked softly.

“People come from all over the world.” Gwen looked up at the woman and said calmly, “But I am indeed from the North.”

"I've been here for months and this is the first time I've seen someone from the North. You didn't flee here on your own, did you?" the woman said, somewhat surprised. Then she pulled off her headscarf, revealing her long, white hair that was coiled up.

When it was the woman's turn in the line, she quickly picked up her bowl. The hooded man in front of her ladled out a bowl of holy water for her, and she thanked him and left.

Gwen followed suit and raised her bowl, but the hooded man stopped.

"Unfamiliar faces, who are you?"

The children behind Gwen instinctively took a step back, their eyes darting around before looking at the open door not far away.

Gwen blinked and said innocently, "We have heard of the power of steam and the gods of the deep sea, and we have come to offer our faith to them."

After saying that, he raised the bowl in his hand.

But for some reason, the man's tone became even more suspicious: "Have you heard of the power of the gods? Where did you hear that?"

Now Gwen looked around, preparing to run away: "From, from the docks, the people there said the holy water here tastes better." "Of course!" The man's tone suddenly rose, and he happily scooped a spoonful of boiling holy water from the pot and poured it into Gwen's bowl: "Our holy water is the best!"

"Yes, nothing is better than holy water!"

"The holy water brewed by the High Priest is the most delicious!"

"Yes Yes!"

Suddenly, a chorus of agreement erupted from the quiet crowd. The hooded figure waved triumphantly at Gwen: "Drink it while it's hot."

“Thank you, the great Earl Hughes,” Gwen said quickly, looking up at the hooded man and seeing him still looking at her expectantly. She then quickly added in a low voice, “And High Priest.”

"Let's go, let's go." The high priest waved his hand with satisfaction.

Gwen carefully held the bowl, which was filled to the brim with holy water and was wobbling precariously, almost overflowing.

Gwen found a corner to sit down and carefully took a sip.

Spicy and piping hot, the soft, well-cooked rice porridge rolled on her tongue. Just one sip warmed her up completely. She quickly opened her mouth and slurped a few mouthfuls before she could swallow it.

A warm sensation slid from her mouth into her stomach and then surged through her limbs, causing Gwen to shiver involuntarily.

Some of the other children had already started eating, while others were still in line, watching longingly and swallowing their saliva.

"Delicious, so good!"

"It smells so good! It's so hot! It still smells so good!"

Gwen ignored the other children. In fact, after the first mouthful of porridge, her mind couldn't think of anything else. She took a sip and slurped it up with her tongue, her face turning red from the heat, but she still quickly swallowed the porridge.

The other homeless children quickly stopped talking, and the room was filled with the sound of slurping porridge.

After they had all finished drinking and were lying haphazardly in the room, one of the children rubbed his stomach and said, "That was really good."

"Yes, it's delicious porridge."

"What porridge? This is holy water!"

"Hmph, why did you kick me, Gwen, who's made with rice porridge instead of holy water?"

The boy looked up, somewhat bewildered, and found that the hooded priest had walked up to him and was looking down at him.

The hood blocked the sunlight, and his expression was obscured in the shadows.

The boy shuddered and scrambled to his feet.

"I ask you, what is holy water?" the high priest's voice came from under his hood.

"Uh"

"Holy water dispels the cold, soothes the pain, heals the disease, and saves lives."

The high priest ladled rice porridge from the pot into a bowl: "It can't cure any illnesses, but at least it can fill your stomach. The people here are all refugees from the North. All they need to survive is a bowl of hot porridge."

"This is holy water, Castel's holy water, the refugees' holy water."

The high priest lifted his hood, revealing a young face in the sunlight. He was still a boy, with a touch of childishness on his face, but his eyes were already full of the hardships of life.

“My name is Josh, and I am the high priest of the Steam and Deep Sea Secret Order.”

(End of this chapter)