If the factory was the heart of Castel, then ore was the foundation that kept the factory running.
Losing the mines was a disaster for Castel, an absolutely unacceptable event—or at least, that was how it should have been.
But with the help of the Banshees, things took a peculiar turn.
He had indeed lost all the mining areas, but the underground network remained intact.
The Banshees worked through the night to expand the underground passage system, creating a massive subterranean mine beneath Castel.
With their assistance, mining efficiency did not decrease; instead, it miraculously increased.
This was a microcosm of the entire situation in Castel.
Although the front lines on the island were continuously retreating, industrial production and warti potential were rapidly growing.
Hughes had already begun recruiting the fourth batch of the Holy Guard, and the number of applicants was considerable.
Despite the shadow of war looming over Castel, the people were confident.
They were trapped on this small island with no way out, but this also united them as never before.
External pressure had a way of dissolving internal conflicts, and the islanders had never been so united.
Among them were fishern from the Martha Archipelago, refugees from Tis, people from the Empire, and Northlanders—but at this mont, they were all Castel’s people.
When everyone worked toward the sa goal, a sense of belonging naturally ford.
As their blood was shed on this land, their souls took root here as well.
The Banshees had fully integrated into the island.
The people no longer rely accepted their existence but saw them as an inseparable part of Castel.
War was a forge of iron and fire, and Castel was gradually being tempered into a sharp, gleaming blade.
"We have lost vast amounts of land, but our people remain, our industrial foundation endures, and our army is intact." This was Ash’s final assessnt.
"We will hold the church’s core area and use it as a base to push back."
Hughes nodded.
Although the number of monsters was overwhelming, the core area—including the main cathedral and other key structures—had been completely fortified.
In na, it was still a church, but in reality, it was Castel’s largest war fortress.
The church was filled with sacred gun ports, and the thick concrete fortifications were the best tribute to the scriptures.
Hughes quickly sketched out the island’s battle situation on the map.
At present, the final defensive line consisted of the cathedral district and the Eastern Test Site.
There were nurous fortifications in the open spaces between them.
Once industrial capacity improved further, he planned to use these fortifications as stepping stones for outward expansion.
anwhile, core industrial construction was in full swing.
Castel’s industry had completely shifted to military production, with heavy industry becoming the absolute priority.
At the sa ti, research and education were advancing rapidly.
The original school had been overrun by monsters, so Zoe had established a new temporary school within the church.
Literacy classes had been fully replaced by a general education curriculum based on advanced courses, now incorporating chanical fundantals as part of basic education.
Chloe was leading the research efforts.
Although this gave the research team an unusual "aesthetic," their efficiency remained high.
After reviewing the island’s current situation, Hughes let out a long breath.
The sudden change in the sea had caught him off guard.
Luckily, thanks to the solid industrial foundation he had established earlier, they had withstood the most terrifying wave of attacks.
Now, he finally had a bit of breathing room to investigate the source of these anomalies.
After giving Connor so instructions, Hughes returned to his room alone, locked the door, and sat down in his chair to choose to descend.
As his consciousness sank, he quickly arrived at the familiar palace.
Hughes rembered clearly—everything had started with Worker Hughes losing control.
After a single glance at the sea, Worker Hughes’ body had forcefully expelled his consciousness, and then the waters surrounding Castel had begun to surge with endless monsters.
Sothing bizarre must have happened on Worker Hughes’ side.
Seated on the Golden Throne, Hughes steadied himself and turned to look at Worker Hughes’ husk.
Last ti, no matter how much he stared, the husk had completely ignored him, and his descent had failed.
But this ti, as his gaze shifted, Worker Hughes raised his head and looked back at him.
Hughes’ heart leaped with joy—he could finally take control!
As their eyes t, his vision gradually darkened.
The descent had begun.
"Let see what’s really going on!" Hughes thought to himself.
As soon as he completed the descent, Hughes felt sothing was terribly wrong.
An indescribable sense of oppression engulfed him.
The feeling was sowhat familiar, yet also strange.
He cautiously opened his eyes—and then froze.
He was surrounded by water.
Hughes opened his mouth to taste it—bitter and salty.
Had he fallen into the sea?
No wonder it felt both familiar and strange.
As Lord Hughes had a Symbiotic Contract, he no longer experienced water pressure—he felt no difference between being underwater and standing on solid ground.
This sensation of being subrged only existed in faint mories from before his transmigration.
Normally, in these deep waters, he would have drowned long ago.
But Worker Hughes could not die twice.
Hughes tried to move his body.
The water pressure here was not overwhelming, aning the depth was at most a few hundred ters.
Strange—ocean depths were usually far greater than this.
Perhaps this was a shallow zone.
At a few hundred ters deep, there was no light at all.
Worker Hughes lacked a Symbiotic Contract, so he had no dark vision either.
He groped around for a while, quickly realizing that this husk was essentially useless.
In the deep sea, he had no idea where he was, and he lacked the ability to swim to the surface.
His lungs held no air, making his body denser than water—swimming upward was a struggle.
He didn’t even have the ans to explore the depths.
The darkness was absolute—he could not see his own hand in front of him.
At this depth, there was almost no light source at all.
Even if he could not die, he could accomplish nothing here.
After several failed attempts, Hughes completely gave up.
This husk was probably useless for future descents.
Thinking about it now, Worker Hughes was truly unlucky.
He had barely started before being killed, then got transported to the island.
After descending, he had only exchanged a few words with Chloe before being locked up again.
After finally escaping, he imdiately landed in this hopeless situation.
His luck was abysmal.
An Outer God—and yet utterly powerless.
A sudden thought struck Hughes.
Didn’t this husk have the ability to hear the voices of its followers?
He had actively blocked out this ability before.
The reason was simple—the endless prayers were unbearably noisy.
The mont he discovered he could mute them, he did so without hesitation.
Listening to prayers all day—who could endure that?
But now, things were different.
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