Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord
Chapter 662 : Was the Ritual Fake
Zoe and Gaia stood frozen on the spot.
The seawater of the Sea of Unawareness that had flooded into the present world should have been a catastrophe, yet it did not spread far. Before it could, it was absorbed one after another by Beatrice.
The upper ranks of the Church of Candlelight present were almost completely wiped out, while the clergy of the Mechanical Sanctum had suffered comparatively few casualties. At this moment, they gathered on both sides of the cannon muzzle, somewhat bewildered, unsure whether they should raise their guns toward their own Pope.
Quite a few turned to look at Arch-Mechanism Chancellor Hela, but Hela had kept her head lowered ever since Beatrice appeared, saying nothing. Only now did she slowly raise her head.
Hela glanced at the surrounding believers, took a deep breath, increased the volume of the loudspeaker, and stepped forward.
“Her Holiness Joanne, she—”
Suddenly, Hela’s voice stopped.
Her mechanical pupils rotated lightly, zooming in slightly, then she slowly lowered her head.
A massive hollow had appeared in her chest.
The surrounding believers were stunned. Only after a moment did they react, turning around and raising their gun barrels.
Behind them should have been the cathedral wall.
Yet under everyone’s gaze, that wall suddenly twisted, then shattered like glass. The real wall lay further behind, and standing before them were—
Densely packed figures in neatly arranged long robes—
Investigators.
“Wh—”
“Open fire!”
Only then did the clergy of the Mechanical Sanctum realize that these Investigators also held firearms in their hands. Perhaps not as refined as those of the Mechanical Sanctum, but at this distance, there was no difference.
Bullets streaked across the cathedral, carrying crimson trails that, strangely, seemed almost… sacred.
The clergy of the Mechanical Sanctum roared in fury and returned fire. Most of their bodies were constructed of steel, more reliable than flesh. They should have been able to withstand more attacks.
Yet the bullets flying toward the opposite side all halted in midair before those figures.
“They’re all Investigators?!”
“How is that possible!”
“Didn’t they go to the City of Dreams?!”
“Hold the line! Hold the line!!”
Explosions, the sound of bullets tearing through flesh, the clash of steel—accompanied by wails—combined into a hymn.
The clergy of the Mechanical Sanctum quickly fell row after row. They were indeed strong; as Mortals, they could confront Transcendents head-on. But there were simply too many Investigators on the opposing side.
The Investigators had clearly come prepared. Each carried more than one firearm, all preloaded.
Soon, the only one left standing in the entire cathedral was Beatrice.
It was not that the Investigators of the Church of Candlelight had deliberately spared her, nor were the Empire’s firearms that inaccurate. Rather, every bullet flying toward her was swallowed by the seawater of the Sea of Unawareness.
She lowered her head to look at the corpses around her, her expression gradually turning blank, then slowly raised it again to look at the Investigators.
“You… didn’t go to the City of Dreams?” she murmured. “But all your paperwork was signed by me. Every procedure, including lodging and carriages, was without issue… You deceived me?”
“You overpraise us, Her Holiness Joanne.” A young Father gave a bow, a trace of mockery on his face. “Everything was genuine, approved and authorized by the Council of Keepers. All standard procedure. We merely… returned earlier.”
“So… you had long planned to move against the Mechanical Sanctum?”
“Under Candlelight’s protection, how could we have moved against anyone? It was clearly the Mechanical Sanctum that suddenly launched an attack upon us. Look—we lost quite a few people.”
He spoke without hesitation, his tone even tinged with sorrow and grievance. Yet the smile on his face never changed.
“I see. I see. You had already sensed the unrest within the Mechanical Sanctum, yet suppressed it and did not report upward. You pretended ignorance, left Rhine just like that, and waited until they had mostly killed each other before returning here… Do you think the Keepers cannot see through this?”
“So what if they can?” The man’s tone finally shifted slightly, a trace of anger entering his voice.
“The upper ranks of the Church have monopolized the entire Church of Candlelight. We ordinary Investigators could only be dispatched to die. So many perished in the Northlands for nothing, and they still did not care—because it was not their own lives being spent!”
He glanced at the corpses on the ground. “Now they have died here as well. It’s only fair.”
Beatrice’s eyes shifted slightly as she stepped back without drawing attention. The place where Zoe and Gaia had stood was now empty, and a large hole had appeared in the pipeline.
As long as she completed the Ritual, then even if she could not defeat them by force, she could still—
“Her Holiness Joanne, you’re not thinking of stalling for time, are you?”
Beatrice’s steps halted.
“To be honest, your control over the Mechanical Sanctum truly surprised us. But to ascend into a 【Named One】…”
The man suddenly smiled.
“The Church of Candlelight has never possessed a path to ascend into a 【Named One】. Wherever you found this method…”
“Existences of the 【Named One】 have always been innate. Surely you didn’t know that?”
Beatrice froze completely.
“You are stalling for time, and how could we not be doing the same? These defiled existences within the Corridor of Truth are quite troublesome. It is excellent that you helped us deal with them. Though it seems it is almost over.”
Beatrice looked around in growing panic. The speed at which she absorbed the seawater had already begun to slow, yet she remained unchanged.
“Impossible, impossible! According to the Ritual, I should have completed my ascension by now! Why am I still like this?!”
“Her Holiness Joanne, allow me to offer a small hint. All that you have absorbed is saturated with pollution. Having absorbed so much… your Ritual should be about to come to a halt, shouldn’t it?”
Beatrice stood stunned for a moment. Looking at the still-surging seawater, despair filled her eyes.
So much seawater. So much pollution.
Enough to erode her completely ten times over.
The man was right. Her Ritual was about to end—yet there was no sign of ascension whatsoever.
So—
She gently closed her eyes.
Beatrice’s will had completely wavered. Illusions gradually began to appear before her, yet she made no further effort to control them.
This time, she truly intended to give up.
Everything before her began to twist. The corpses within the cathedral gradually vanished. At some unknown moment, rain began to fall.
Beatrice recognized this rain. Each time she awoke from a nightmare, she would see this scene.
It was the night the Empress was assassinated.
She had endured hallucinations and splitting headaches as she fled the palace.
Her instincts had told her to run, and so she did. Yet after escaping the palace, what she saw was a densely packed army of the Church waiting outside.
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