Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 370 Steel and Banshee

The bullets flew in a continuous line, pouring down like a torrential rain.

Kyle stiffly turned his head, and upon seeing those tall figures, the lingering fear and confusion on his face suddenly faded, replaced by a relieved smile.

The harbinger sirens have arrived.

They were clad in heavy armor, their six arms wielding numerous weapons, and their hand-cranked Gatling guns spun wildly, each rotation unleashing bullets that merged into a storm of barrages.

The sounds of metal colliding, metal rubbing against the ground, gunpowder exploding, and bullets whistling through the air combine to create a sacred chant of steel.

Even on the battlefield, even with terrifying monsters right in front of him, Kyle couldn't help but be momentarily stunned.

The seawater seemed to surge up again, and before my eyes were once more fishmen and arm-like monsters, rushing up with howls, as memories of the past overlapped with reality.

The tall figure clad in heavy armor, like a god walking among mortals, came to their side as before.

The sound of gunfire has never felt so reassuring.

The eyes of the apologists gradually turned fervent as they chanted sacred texts and cheered for the arrival of reinforcements.

"We are the banshees of Castel, here at the behest of the Earl," Ash's cold voice echoed throughout the area.

"Now, we take over the battlefield."

She did not wait for the prince's reply; this was a declaration, not a negotiation.

The banshees quickly changed formation, each rushing off in a different direction to surround the monster before them.

[The Compassionate Mother] slammed down her arm without hesitation, and the attacks that had kept the Guardians of the Faith fleeing for their lives were now easily dodged by the banshees as if in slow motion.

They wore heavy armor, and the dull clanging of the steel indicated its terrifying weight, yet it seemed to be light and agile on the banshees, not affecting their movements at all.

The banshees' coordination was almost perfect. Despite not communicating, they seemed to be in perfect harmony, attacking, covering, retreating, and counterattacking as if they were performing a graceful dance, rather than facing a colossal mountain on the battlefield.

The port guards were terrified by the "Mother of All Things" and thought their death was imminent when they saw the steel giant Banshee. But after hearing Ash's declaration, they belatedly realized that these people had come to help them.
The soldiers didn't understand anything about the supernatural; they only thought it was a messenger from God, and they all knelt down, praying with either fear or fervor.

In their panic, they couldn't remember much. Some were chanting the harbinger of death, some were chanting Castel's name, and some were even muttering "Count."

The prince stood among the soldiers, his face ashen, listening to their kneeling prayers to Hughes.

Galahad stood to one side, his eyes gleaming with admiration—he had fought countless battles on the battlefield and knew how powerful the banshees were. They had only just arrived on the battlefield, yet they had almost instantly seized the initiative.

The banshees seemed to be avoiding the attack of the "Mother of Mercy," but unbeknownst to them, the enormous monster had moved away from the Guardians of the Church and the Port Guard. This ingenious coordination was beyond Galahad's imagination.

This is merely their combat skill; as for their weapons...
Galahad swallowed hard.

The massive steel guns were covered with pipes that eventually connected to the metal barrels on their backs.

Galahad is a discerning person; the Mechanicus had once been very close to the royal family, and even members of the Noan family had served as their Mechanic Priests.

He recognized that the banshees were carrying steam rifles from the Mechano-Sanctuary.

But, isn't this thing the holy grail of those motor enthusiasts?
The method for manufacturing this powerful weapon has long been lost, and it is said that only a few exist in existence. Most are kept in their sanctuaries, and even a mere glance at them requires a series of complex rituals to please the mechanical spirit, let alone use them. Yet, Ash alone possesses three of these weapons. Isn't this thing so heavy that it requires several people to lift it, and only mechanical priests can barely use it?
Galahad took a deep breath and struggled to tear his gaze away from the steam rifle. Although it was outrageous, it was something he knew about and could understand.

What are those constantly rotating tubes?

Galahad wasn't stupid; he naturally knew it was some kind of musket, but shouldn't a musket be fired—loaded—fired?

Even bolt-action rifles were within Galahad's understanding; they were simply a matter of loading gunpowder and loading bullets together. But the weapon in the Banshee's hand...
Da da da da da.
Galahad was an extraordinary being with hearing far superior to that of ordinary people, yet even so, he still needed to exert all his strength to discern the intervals between bullets fired.

It's no exaggeration to say that the firepower of these dozen or so female demons is far more exaggerated than that of the entire Hong Kong Guard combined.

How many banshees are there in total? How many machine guns can fire in rapid succession? How many are there in their Hong Kong Guard?

Galahad felt that his experience of the past few decades was like waste paper in front of Castel, and that no common sense or experience could be applied to this magical island.

It is more terrifying than any evil god; even the slightest glimpse of the truth revealed unintentionally is enough to drive Galahad insane.

Incomprehensible, indescribable; the only thing that can be understood is their power.

Suddenly, the knight holding the longsword remembered the beginning of it all: he had sent someone to steal a small booklet, which was said to be the holy book of this group of Christian defenders.

Galahad opened it as if it were a treasure, but the first thing he saw was a strange sentence—

Knowledge is power.

"Knowledge. Power"

The sound of the longsword falling to the ground was drowned out by the storm of bullets.

the other side.

Ash looked up and frowned as she watched the [Mother of Compassion] attacking while wailing through her visor.

While dodging the opponent's attacks, she asked questions through the mental link:
How many bullets do we have left?

The succubi immediately responded in a noisy manner.

"This is less than a third of the way used."

"Wait, you used so much? I just carried a whole box of ammunition up here!"

"Look at how fast we're going to burn through our ammunition! I have three Gatling guns, and I haven't stopped firing. I've already replaced all the barrels!"

"Wow, at this rate, won't they run out of bullets very quickly?"

"Don't worry, Lady Ash has already made arrangements. Didn't you notice she was directing us to move southeast?"

"Southeast. I see, I understand, Lord Ash!"

Ash nodded; no further explanation was needed. Southeast direction.
It's the sea.

(End of this chapter)