Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 492 Oh no, I'm going crazy again.
"That's a salvage ship. It retrieves the wreckage of sunken ships from the seabed, remelts it, and reuses it." The young man escorting him casually explained, "The steel from sunken ships is more likely to give rise to ship spirits. Although it's terrible to be cursed by both steam engines and ship spirits, at least it's safer. Besides, given the rate at which shipyards are sinking, if we don't salvage them, this dock will eventually become unusable."

Hunter understood each word in the passage, but when put together, it made no sense. What did "ship's soul" mean? Why would a shipyard sink a ship? Most importantly, why would a steam engine curse?

Hunter instinctively wanted to ask, but he suddenly stopped himself from speaking.

The young doctor's advice still echoed in his ears—don't listen, don't look, don't think; the more you know, the closer you are to madness.

Damn it, he just happened to be a scholar, his curiosity burning like a raging fire, scorching his reason.

After struggling for a while, he simply nodded and followed the young man beside him out of the dock.

“By the way, I haven’t asked yet, who are you?” Hunter’s gaze fell on the holy emblem hanging on the young man’s clothes.

He had seen it on the ship; it was exactly the same as the one in the holy book.

"I am a member of the Guardians of the Faith, and I belong to the Imperial Church of Truth." The young man straightened his chest as he felt Hunter's gaze.

“I see. I don’t know much about your church. Could you tell me some of its doctrines?” Hunter said cautiously.

This is based on his experience dealing with church personnel.

The members of these churches may not necessarily love money or crave power, but they are generally quite devout in their faith.

Even those who aren't particularly devout believers don't mind casually offering a few words of explanation to appear more sincere.

Therefore, the best way to flatter them is to use the pretext of asking for their advice to let them condescendingly explain the doctrines, a lesson Hunter's father taught him.

But the smiling guard suddenly paused, his smile freezing on his face.

"The doctrine of Imperial Truth, uh, that's it."

He looked pleadingly at his companion, another member of the escorting religious guard.

As a result, the man's expression changed drastically, and he began to mutter incoherently.

"Doctrine? Damn it, is there any doctrine written in the scriptures? What is our church for again?"

Hunter's eyes widened. Weren't these two the Guardians of the Church? Logically speaking, the army under the Church should be the most devout. Has the Church become so corrupt?

The two whispered for a while, and finally spoke with embarrassed expressions: "This question is rather profound and cannot be explained in a few words. You should find our political commissar, the technical priest, or rather, our archbishop Alexei. He should know the doctrine, right?"

"But if you have any other questions, feel free to ask us—about physics, chemistry, etc. You seem to be a mechanical engineering scholar? We can discuss that too."

Hunter forced a smile and nodded in agreement, but his heart was filled with disdain.

Are you kidding me? Let him go and discuss mechanical knowledge with these clergy who specialize in fighting?

They might not even know what a gear is!
This church is rotten to the core; it can't even articulate proper doctrines!

With a church like that, what can it possibly manage?

Suppressing his thoughts, Hunter followed the two guards forward.

The ground beneath his feet was lead-gray and felt very hard; Hunter couldn't immediately identify the material. People came and went near the dock, and tall steel cranes assisted in unloading cargo from ships.

Steel, it's always steel.

Hunter was somewhat numb as he looked at the enormous crane arm.

The steel here grows from trees; can we just pick it and melt it down?

How can there be so many?

After unloading the cargo at the dock, the porters used machinery to transport it to a train parked nearby.

Hunter had seen the train before; the armored train that traveled between the North and Bloodharbor was several times larger than the one in front of him. Hunter was more interested in the tracks.

He was being escorted before and didn't get a good look at it, but now that he's closer, he realizes that the tracks are also made of steel.

The amount of steel used in the rails wasn't much, at least not compared to those ironclad warships, but it connected Bloodharbor all the way to the North!
It would take half a month to travel from Bloodharbor to the North on horseback. Just thinking about the amount of steel required makes my scalp tingle.

They are not afraid of being robbed.

However, Hunter, recalling the steam locomotives that could make a round trip in half a day, nodded in realization. Such heavy rails, without large tools, would probably be impossible to pry off even a single rail in half a day. If large tools were used…
The dark gun muzzle on the roof of the car wasn't just for show.

The train hadn't arrived yet, and the three of them were queuing on the platform when Hunter suddenly felt his vision darken.

Is it cloudy? Why did it suddenly get so dark?

Hunter looked up in confusion, then froze on the spot, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

What is that?
Almost his entire field of vision was occupied by a huge and bizarre creation. The sky seemed to have been covered by a lid, or as if it was tilting downwards. The indescribable sense of oppression caused Hunter to collapse to the ground, gasping for breath, feeling as if he could not breathe.

And that enormous thing seemed to be moving! It was moving forward on its head at a speed that appeared slow but was actually quite fast.

Hunter felt as if his vision was receding, everything else in front of him was gradually blurring, while the giant object in the air became clearer and clearer.

He saw a pair of sharp, blood-red eyes on that enormous body, seemingly filled with rage.

There was another gaping, menacing maw, its sharp, jagged teeth gleaming, eager to tear apart any enemy in its path.

What is this? A giant whale soaring through the sky? A divine kingdom floating in the air? Or perhaps the gods themselves?
Hunter looked around in alarm, only to find that the two guards beside him seemed unfazed, and most of the passengers preparing to board the train didn't seem to care much either. On the contrary, the young people who had come by boat with him were excitedly pointing and whispering.

No one broke down in screams, no one knelt down or kowtowed; many people didn't even bother to lift their eyelids, as if it were just a boring sight.

Damn it, aren't they afraid? Aren't they terrified? With such a huge being floating overhead, Hunter felt like he was about to die of fright.

"The Sky Veil Behemoth, that's an old friend. Although many new airships have been built since then, I still think it's the best, don't I?"

The Guardians looked up and said with a smile.

The Sky-Covered Beast?
His somewhat sluggish mind took a moment to slowly begin to function, and an unbelievable guess surfaced in his mind.

(End of this chapter)