Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 326 The Blood of Cultists
Zoe cautiously approached Erwin and whispered, "Mr. Erwin, why do you think the prince offered to escort us on our journey?"

Just now, when the prince asked her, the old woman used her supernatural powers to pull her, Erwin, Connor and others into a self-bound perspective.

The prince's guards and the surrounding area were all displayed in full before the group.

After a brief discussion, Connor and Erwin reached a consensus and advised Zoe to agree.

Erwin gestured towards the prince, who was galloping ahead of them, and said, "He's decided to leave the Upper City himself. Either the Upper City is more dangerous, or he has a way to deal with the rebellion outside. In that case, we have no reason to stay in the manor."

“But wouldn’t it be more dangerous to follow him?” Zoe asked worriedly. “He’s the lord here, wouldn’t he be a prime target in a rebellion?”

“So he must have a very important reason for choosing to leave the upper city. We might as well follow him first, and if things don’t look right.” Erwin’s expression hardened, and he pointed to both sides without saying anything.

Their frigates outnumbered the opposing side, and their equipment was far superior. The knights' full plate armor could withstand swords, but not a few bullets. If any trouble arose, their side would have the upper hand.

The prince didn't make any underhanded moves; he simply led the way, and soon they arrived at the border between the upper city and the outside world.

The so-called Upper City District is not a simple street division; it is actually separated by a stone wall.

Although the stone wall was not tall, it did divide the city into two unconnected parts.

They arrived at the opening in the wall, where many soldiers were busy dismantling the wall with tools.

“The main gate we usually use has been blocked by cultists. The fastest way for us to get out is to make a temporary opening.” The prince pointed his whip at the stone wall. “Fortunately, the wall isn’t very sturdy, so it won’t be too difficult to dismantle.”

Soon the soldiers pushed down a section of the thin stone wall, revealing a small gap, and Galahad rushed out first.

“Friends of Castel, keep up!” The prince also rode up to follow.

Zoe stared in disbelief: "They just tore down the only wall like that?"

“The prince himself has gone out. This upper city is just bait to lure cultists. A bait with flaws is better.” A hint of appreciation flashed in Erwin’s eyes. “At least it’s better than charging straight through the front gate.”

There are many cult members on the streets outside, but they are not gathering here, at least not now.

Upon seeing the prince emerge, they roared and charged forward.

Galahad shouted and drew his sword, charging towards the enemy.

Knights admired swordsmanship and martial arts, but when they went to the battlefield, they generally still used lances. There weren't many special reasons for this; it's just that in the era of cold weapons, weapon length was often directly linked to combat effectiveness.

Although Galahad uses a sword, the length of that sword is definitely comparable to a two-handed greatsword. This kind of weapon is generally used by swinging back and forth in a special rhythm, using inertia to kill enemies, and rarely involves precise actions such as blocking or deflecting—the human wrist cannot withstand it.

This is a weapon that slightly exceeds the limits of human use, and its application scenarios are very limited.

The weapon in Galahad's hand is a prime example; it is nearly two meters long and, proportionally, weighs at least ten kilograms—a weight that would make it difficult to use as a weapon.

Galahad, however, held it in one hand as if it were a wooden stick.

The cultists rushed over, armed with only simple weapons: wooden sticks, daggers, and at best, a rusty longsword.

The longsword slashed out a waterfall of blood, and the warhorse trampled the severed limbs, turning them into a bloody pulp.

He charged back and forth twice, his longsword cleaving through flesh and blood, clearing out a large group of cultists. Zoe and the others had just emerged when the girl glanced at the carnage on the ground and frowned.

She had seen far more brutal battlefields in deep-sea warfare than this, but...
She looked closely at the crushed enemy.

Those were thin, withered limbs, their once numb eyes now filled with hatred, before they were slain and fell to the ground.

A boy, his body severed in two and lying in a pool of blood with only his upper body remaining, raised his head and met Zoe's gaze with eyes full of rage.

His face still had a touch of youthfulness, and he wasn't much older than Zoe. He was covered in blood—his own blood, his companions' blood, and the blood of Blood Harbor.

He tried to stand up, but instead fell into a pool of blood. When he looked down in confusion, he realized that his lower body was nothing but his shattered internal organs.

He paused for a moment, then grabbed his shattered organs and threw them at the knights.

Before he could even release his grip, a bloody hole appeared on his head.

The prince lowered his musket, pulled on the reins, and expressionlessly called out to the rear, "Go! Go! Charge straight through!"

Zoe couldn't ride a horse, so old Connor rode her on horseback.

She stared blankly at the corpse lying on the ground until the horse rushed into the alley, at which point she belatedly wiped her forehead.

Bright red blood.

Unlike the monsters in the deep sea, this gaunt body contained such hot and vibrant blood, which accidentally flowed into her eyes as she wiped it away. She lowered her head and rubbed her eyes, but she couldn't wipe it off no matter what she did.

She looked around in a panic, one eye seeing a knight in bright armor wielding a longsword, the other only seeing blood-stained cultists.

Cultists. They were cultists, but the blood in that thin, sickly body was no different from the blood in her delicate, smooth wrists.

They are not monsters, they are people.

Zoe suddenly felt nauseous. She had clearly experienced an incredibly brutal battlefield and seen the monster corpses piled up to the firing ports, but now she felt dizzy.

Connor noticed something was wrong with her and grabbed her clothes tightly.

Fortunately, they didn't need to fight after entering the alley. The knights leading the way were all fully armored, so they didn't even need to wield their weapons. They just needed to hold the reins tightly, and their warhorses would trample the cultists under their hooves.

The heavily armored knights moved through the alleyways like a charging steamroller, crushing everything in their path into the cracks between the stone bricks.

Soon, the knights rushed out of the alley.

Erwin glanced at his mother-in-law beside him, who shook her head: "My physical body cannot move when I use my powers."

After saying that, she looked around and squinted her eyes: "This way is a bit off. This is not the dock, but closer to the barracks of the Eastern Port Guard."

The friars silently raised their guns.

(End of this chapter)