Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 344 Steel Rain Curtain
Is the exercise beginning?
Wasn't the exercise already over?

A terrifying suspicion suddenly surfaced from the depths of his heart. He vaguely guessed what it was, but reason refused to accept it, as if he were being led into another world by reading a blasphemous book that was tainted with corruption.

Unfortunately, he was just an audience member sitting below the stage. The curtain that had already been drawn would not stop for even a moment because of his resistance at this moment, just like countless insects crushed by the wheels of time.

Galahad stared blankly at the training ground ahead, like a believer undergoing a test, or a prisoner awaiting judgment.

It's raining.

Steel-like raindrops pelted down from the sky, and crimson water splashed up on the ground.

A series of sharp whistling sounds followed, and the sun rose over the dim earth.

Galahad felt as if everything had gone quiet, and everything was moving in slow motion.

He had never seen the true face of destruction so clearly. Pale words could not describe what he saw. The tall knight felt his whole body, from head to toe, and every hair on his soul tremble.

It was as if I had crossed a high wall for the first time and seen the sea of ​​ignorance, and the knowledge and truth floating on it.

No, the firelight before our eyes is the truth.

Galahad stood there bewildered, his face flushed red by the bursts of firelight.

He lowered his head, looking at his hands, his armor, and his longsword.

He honed his martial arts and horsemanship from a young age. Coupled with his noble blood and unwavering will, he transcended worldly boundaries and reached the extraordinary at a young age. He possessed the finest armor and the best sword; he was the empire's strongest knight.

From childhood to adulthood, he was invincible in both duels and battles.

He could slice bullets with his longsword, and opponents who tried to outmaneuver him with muskets in duels fell in pools of blood. He stood there to greet the cheers of the audience, declaring to them with his blood-dripping sword: the times have not changed.

He always felt that he was one of the strongest people in the mortal world.

But can all of these combined withstand a brief bombing?
Galahad was confused.

He was the most stubborn conservative, refusing to repent until the wheels of time rolled over his face, but now they really had rolled over him.

Bombs rained down overhead, the roar and flames were right before his eyes. Even if he were Don Quixote with his eyes closed and refusing to open them, he should know that he could not defeat the windmills.

He just stood there blankly, his face pale, as if he were attending his own funeral.

Meanwhile, on the other side, the workers, the Christian guards, and the banshee—people of different backgrounds—all wore the same excited expression.

The explosions spread out in a continuous chain, and the people on the island were mesmerized. It was an industrial miracle, the result of everyone's joint efforts.

Every single explosive was mined by their own hands, the explosives were mixed by their own hands, the steel was cast by their own hands, and the fuse was lit by their own hands.

They are not afraid of the airships in the sky, nor the whooshing sound of bombs. The lord himself explained the function of each part to them. Steel and fire are an extension of their will.

The unknown brings fear, and misinterpretation leads to cognitive interference, but reason and knowledge bring an iron will.

This will acts like anchors, firmly securing the turbulent and chaotic world, making the laws of physics indestructible. Hughes had long noticed that erroneous perceptions interfere with the world, while correct perceptions anchor it. The chaos caused by the researchers' failed experiments was decreasing, and although this process was slow, it was proceeding steadfastly.

The more knowledge people possess, the smaller the range of global shifts and disturbances becomes. The entire Castel seems to have formed a kind of "field," with the island at its center, where the laws of physics are gradually stabilizing.

No, perhaps it's about stabilizing in a certain direction.
Hughes crossed his arms and rubbed his chin.

Were previous explosions this violent and powerful? Those religious apologists keep promoting things like yield and explosion power, but has it really made bombs more and more powerful?

Is this actually a good thing?

If the collective will truly could move a corner of the world.
hiss

Hughes's expression suddenly stiffened. He realized that Nini's secretly published newspaper seemed to have a huge readership.
No, we have to shut down her underground newspaper right away, at least take down the story of his love triangle with Monica!

Cognitive interference has actually brought Poseidon to life!
Thinking about it that way, Chloe hanging on the monument is also in danger. She's being worshipped all the time; won't she be haunted?
Hughes suddenly frowned. If you think about it this way, those cults that worship evil gods, or churches like the Candlelight Church with believers all over the continent, should often be able to guide the will of their believers to do things. Why haven't I heard of them?

Is Castells special?

Hughes shook his head, deciding to investigate further later, and looked at Galahad.

I wonder how this guest from Blood Harbor will react?

Hughes knew full well how much of an impact the scene before him would have on a knight like himself, but he had no intention of hiding anything.

This is nothing compared to what you're seeing from a distance; it's not like you're leading cavalry to charge against tanks.

Besides, the prince has sent his deputy, which shows he values ​​Castel highly. Let's show him the real Castel then.

Evil gods, technology, churches, industry, steam engines—Castel is included in everything. If you can accept it, then there's free trade; if you can't, then the Guardians of the Faith will go up and spread the truth of the Empire.

If pirates can collect sea taxes, then the Stormy Ocean is so vast that if pirates can go there, why can't Tathagata go there?
In short, Hughes was busy advancing technology and farming, and had no time to play any games or schemes with the prince.

Equivalent worship is not good, but this kind of problem can indeed be solved with equivalents—and it doesn't even necessarily require equivalents. Judging from Galahad's reaction, Hughes knew that the exercise was worthwhile.

You could tell from the expressions on people's faces that the bomb detonated on the coast, but it created ripples in the hearts of every spectator.

Will can interfere with the material world, and what happens can in turn reshape will.

Galahad, the knight in his bright armor, had a completely different demeanor than before.

Although it was somewhat embarrassing that he fainted upon arriving on the island, he had been in a high position for a long time, had always served the prince, and had experienced many ups and downs, so he was able to maintain his composure most of the time.

He speaks with neither arrogance nor servility, treats people with kindness and gentleness, possesses both ability and eloquence, and is also an extraordinary individual. It must be said that he is indeed a very outstanding deputy.

But now, that composure is nowhere to be seen.

He was like an earthworm that had accidentally wandered onto the road during a rainstorm, unable to find the familiar soil, just staring blankly at the unfamiliar world.

(End of this chapter)