Industrial Cthulhu? It's Cthulhu Industrial!!

Chapter 58 He's a Good Person (10,000-word update delivered! Please subscribe!)
Britannian fleets began to gradually enter the harbor on the mirrored islands.

To be precise, it wasn't a harbor, but rather a section of seabed raised by the spirit of nature, temporarily used as a harbor. The population of Britannia gradually began to move ashore, and for a month, they would temporarily cooperate with the members of the Silver Gate, gradually immersing themselves in the construction of this grand plan.

Initially, the members of the Britannian fleet were reluctant to leave their ships. These men, who spent countless years at sea, were far more familiar with their fleet than those on land. Furthermore, their lifestyle meant that leaving the ships generally meant encountering unimaginable dangers. This convoy culture made it difficult for them to accept living on land while the fleet underwent repairs. However, this sentiment was easily resolved.

After the naval captain executed ten of the most resistant soldiers on the spot, the remaining soldiers readily complied and came to the ground.

After all, going to the island would only be unpleasant, while staying on the ship would result in the colonel executing him for treason.

Compared to the technicians, these ordinary soldiers had no value in speaking. Moreover, their leader, the army lieutenant colonel, had died in the exploration of the New World. In order to forcefully unite the entire fleet as one, the naval captain believed that his tough action was absolutely necessary.

Furthermore, going ashore doesn't mean the naval captain simply accepted all the arrangements. He had previously refused to go ashore because the fleet had more important missions, but as Leon said, times have changed. Now that the exploration of the new continent had failed, the people of Britannia would begin to tackle other more crucial tasks. For example, like now, exploring places inaccessible to Britannian official authorities.

The last time I saw these misty islands, it was just a fleeting glimpse from the sea.

After he saw the great lighthouse and witnessed the miracle of the gods, the coordinates still shone brightly in his mind, bringing him the good news of survival.

Now, a month later, the naval captain, back on land, began observing the work of these humans and quickly noticed something amiss. The working conditions of everyone on this island were nothing like those of the divine empires he had previously encountered.

'...A self-aware human being? Even the creator of writing?'

Isn't it a territory completely controlled by the conceptual gods?

The naval captain standing on the dock was utterly perplexed as he watched those people dressed in porcelain-like clothes speaking to each other in a highly efficient and rapid language.

Normally, ordinary gods cannot create writing out of thin air. They are the sum of all imagination and the known world; only humans can create various forms of writing and wisdom. But gods do not have this ability, nor do they have this motivation.

Unless there's a strong need or a major error, generally speaking, no civilization has much of a need or necessity to update its writing system. They'll just patch things up and make do. But what's on Silver Gate Island is clearly a completely new script. The naval captain observed that in many places, they even needed to use their hands and those strange clay tablets to demonstrate what they meant.

Moreover, the naval captain could even sense that these people seemed to share some kind of peculiar spiritual connection. In such circumstances, the occasional inexplicable events could only be explained by the fact that the written language was created too recently, everyone was still unfamiliar with it, and some things lacked direction. However, this also meant a truly horrifying fact, one that could overturn all of the naval captain's assumptions: the people of the Misty Islands might not be extensions or domesticated offspring of a benevolent god, but rather, in the truest sense… a city of humans.

why?
Does theology no longer exist?

How could something so contrary to common sense and completely defy theory exist?
Watching those people intensely discussing something, then manipulating the light in the sky to transform and send the materials away, the naval captain felt his common sense and theories being challenged. While Britannia was known for its many novel inventions and bizarre events, this was just too strange.

"You must be the colonel."

As the naval captain stood on the dock lost in thought, a voice came from above him.

When he subconsciously looked in the direction of the sound, he only saw a tall figure blocking out the sun, looking at him with a kind smile.

He was a tall and imposing man. His face shone as brightly as the sun, and his stature was so great it almost resembled that of a giant. This handsome man with a gentle face wore even more magnificent and exquisite terracotta armor; at the joints, some connections were even covered with finely tanned fibers. The delicate reliefs and patterns on the armor were incredibly beautiful, revealing the immense care the craftsmen had put into creating them.

"I am Charlemagne, the current captain of the Silver Gate's security force."

The visitor smiled and extended his large, fan-like hand to express his friendly attitude.

"Your Excellency has sent me to be your guide and mentor, and hopes that we can get along well during this period of cooperation."

Hello. Do you speak Britannian?

"Actually, we were still using Britannian before you all left. However, due to certain needs, we abandoned the less efficient Britannian language and chose our superior and more efficient Silver Gate language. Of course, this does not mean that Britannian is not good, it just means that it is a bit inefficient."

"..."

“I’m sorry, it’s hard for me to describe how I feel in Britannian. Perhaps you’ll understand when we face what we’re about to see.”

"I look forward to it."

This is an arrogant race and civilization, and not the kind of arrogance born of ignorance.

Watching Charlemagne, who seemed to be carefully choosing his words and trying to objectively describe the situation, the naval captain began to analyze the state and circumstances of the Silver Gate.

As a captain entrusted with a heavy responsibility by Britannia and trusted to explore the New World, the naval captain's greatest strengths were not his ship command abilities, but rather his observational and analytical skills. He could use mental tools to accurately describe and construct models of his surroundings.

This model goes beyond just geography; it also incorporates the various influences of dialogue and the nuances of folk culture. For instance, people who frequently survive disasters tend to become more resilient and silent, and more obedient to higher-ups. Because failing to do so means certain death. However, in the current observations and modeling by the naval captain, the Silver Gate's state is far too strange. Rather than a cultural civilization, it resembles a massive construction site rushing towards an unknown goal.

The most concise language, the most cumbersome actions, and the absence of any trace of finance or logistics—it's a construction site that appeared out of thin air and was simply piled up there.

Everything here, from the culture and language, was created for the purpose of certain buildings; nothing else has been left behind.

But what was the purpose of creating such a civilization?
Following in Charlemagne's footsteps, the naval captain's confusion soon found its own answer.

It was a huge ring.

It is a massive ring built around an island that is difficult to describe in words, and it is hard to imagine what purpose or reason it was built for.

He witnessed a flash of light in the sky, followed by the descent of a colossal stone—a massive slab of rock even in the construction of Britannia's dams—falling into the depths of the ocean. He saw countless white porcelain pipes and what appeared to be ceramic diving suits interconnected, used to supply air. And the people underwater were wizards, manipulating aquatic plants to constantly correct the landing point of the giant stone slab until it submerged, creating a deafening roar that even shook the soles of his feet.

Within that colossal ring, at first glance, one could see thousands of Silver Gate workers toiling away. Supplies and various materials, appearing out of thin air, were stirred and mixed within the light emanating from mid-air before being channeled onto the layered dikes. The massive terracotta steel plates falling from the sky were tightly bound together by rapidly sprouting plant roots, contracting and compressing like an adhesive, ultimately forming the enormous ring encircling the sea. That ring shone with an indescribable radiance; each layer and each point represented a mystical miracle crafted from Soul Stones and Lianshan Kiln porcelain. The light of the Great Lighthouse flickered and intertwined continuously, meticulously delivering all supplies and necessities.

This was even more unexpected than the construction site in Britannia; it was a completely unfamiliar sight.

What exactly are they planning to do to build this wall that stretches across the entire sea?

After a rough estimate of the manpower and resources required to build the wall, the naval captain was quite surprised to find that their productivity had even subtly surpassed that of most of Britannia's construction areas and needs. Except for a few cutting-edge technologies, they seemed to have completed the leap in such a short period of time.

"The First Holy Ring is where you and your crew will be working from now on."

Standing on the edge of the shore, Charlemagne looked at the spreading pale white wall with a sense of pride on his face.

"Since you are not members of the Silver Gate, we cannot grant you access to the Great Lighthouse. However, we believe that as Britannian sailors, you will certainly be able to solve production and construction problems in your own way. We have seen the Imperial standard docks from seventy years ago, which are still very ingenious buildings for us today."

"Of course. We will cooperate with your work. However, we do not know the exact purpose of these buildings, which may lead to misunderstandings and construction errors."

Looking at the huge, gradually closing ring, the naval captain suppressed his shock, nodded calmly, and tried to get information out of the object.

Obviously, there must be more important reasons for building such a structure.

But Charlemagne didn't seem to care about such things, or perhaps it wasn't a secret. He simply stated it bluntly.

"It's because we're afraid our land could disappear at any moment that we decided to build such a magnificent city on the ocean. We don't intend to live on the seabed; we intend to build our city in this area. We will intercept this sea area, drain all the seawater from it, and use this area as a foundation to create our own completely rectified city."

"We will become the greatest builders, working tirelessly for our homeland. We will drain this sea and build our holy city. All of this is because of your arrival, but we never imagined you would become our helpers."

Looking at the bustling sea, Charlemagne remarked with some emotion, which only made the naval captain more incredulous.

They have only been gone for a month.

The planning, construction, material confirmation, and all related preparations were completed within a month, bringing the project to the forefront. Just how fast can their communication be? Does Britannia really have such efficiency?

If it were the World Wings, that would be possible, but other positions and departments probably wouldn't have that kind of efficiency and speed. But in other words, has the population of this small archipelago, with Li Ang's help, unknowingly reached the level of the World Wings? No, to be precise, it shouldn't be, since the marginal effect and scale of construction are not on the same level. However, in the case of a single project, perhaps it has indeed reached that level.

Watching the massive plank of wood fall from the sky and crash into the sea once again, the naval captain remained silent for a moment, then looked at Charlemagne and said:
"We will cooperate with your work. If needed, we can work for about eighteen hours. The remaining six hours are enough for us to rest and sleep."

"Hmm? It takes six hours to rest and sleep?"

"After all, biotechnology is still a relatively high-end industry in Britannia. Modifying a human body without destroying it is too difficult for us, unlike for you."

Looking at Charlemagne's massive physique and muscles, and their matter-of-fact attitude, the naval captain said without changing his expression:

"Those of us skilled in technical work have already died in the New World. The remaining technicians must repair the damage and vulnerabilities in the fleet and do our best to ensure that certain New World artifacts and life inside the ships are not contaminated. Only some Marines and blood sacrifices can be provided for your use. But their strength and loyalty are trustworthy."

"Then can we bring them into our territory?"

"I'm afraid not. Under the current circumstances, even newly constructed blood offerings would be considered Britannia's property. Because we failed in our exploration, these would serve as evidence of the situation at the time. However, selling labor to protect and repair ships is permissible."

"Is that so? Then I'll have to ask you to work on the water and at the clay deposits."

Charlemagne looked at the seemingly genuine naval captain, pondered for a moment, and then said softly:

"We have some more important things to do. For example, expanding the production of ceramic steel and completing construction. These parts that require pure labor are in your hands. In fact, sometimes we really wish that the adults could take all of our time to do his important things. After all, those things are also good things that we are looking forward to."

"Lord Leon...will take away your time?"

"To be precise, it's a contract."

In response to the naval captain's inquiry, Charlemagne answered calmly.

“We need safety, a peaceful haven and world, and what the adults need is loyalty. As a promise to each other, we will dedicate eight hours each day to the gods, and the adults will protect our homes and give us the wisdom and courage to explore. Our thatched huts and wooden houses will be rewarded with a higher level of grace, and everything we need will be provided by the adults’ benevolence. There is nothing left for us to do, but there is still so much we want to do. Even building our ideal city is permitted by the adults; we have nothing more to ask for.”

"..."

Looking at Charlemagne's completely natural expression, the naval captain's pupils dilated once again.

Even this roundabout construction was requested by humans themselves, not forced upon them by Li Ang.
In other words, Li Ang really just acted as a city lord and a nobleman in the expansion territory, and did nothing else.

Facing the terracotta slab rising from the water once again, recalling Li Ang's previous actions, it seemed he hadn't shown any hostility or conflict. On the contrary, the other party actually fully complied with Britannia's pioneering laws, exactly the same as when they were first thrown at him.

Contrary to popular belief, they did not oppress free citizens to the point that their territories were depleted except for blood sacrifices. Nor did they hoard their technology like other Worldwings, but instead engaged in generous trade.

Although it's unpleasant to have prices arbitrarily raised, this is a normal trade practice and there's nothing wrong with it.

So... he really came here to make a contribution?
Wouldn't writing such a report be considered treason by Britannia?
As the naval captain faced the enormous silver gate ring, such an absurd emotion suddenly arose in his mind.

(End of this chapter)