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Now reading: Chapter 276: Castel’s Return from Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord, a Adventure novel by 刀如故.

『Evacuate the workers near the furnace imdiately. Everyone co help—quickly! This furnace is about to ignite!』

『Monica, co to the observation port on the west side. I’m here.』

『Ash, you’re with the military, right? Have Alexei lead the Holy Guard to maintain order!』

After hoisting the monster during the day, most of the Banshees had gone back to rest. The installation of the furnace lid was left to the workers, with only the airship assisting in the lifting.

Now, the Banshees rushed out in a hurry. Most of them lived in the main cathedral, while a few ca hastily through the network path.

The Banshees in the cathedral quickly assessed the situation, then leapt straight into the courtyard from the cathedral. Using the surrounding walls to gain montum, they leapt onto the furnace.

They imdiately split into several teams and began carrying away the workers who didn’t have ti to evacuate, scattering in all directions.

Most of the workers had heard Hughes’ warning. They dropped their tools and fled along the maintenance platform. Hughes pressed his hand to the outer wall of the furnace, anxiety building in his heart.

This furnace really had a temper!

Only a minute or two had passed since the installation had been completed. Monica was still aboard the airship when Hughes contacted her directly through the Mind Link—she was the key to ignition.

There was no ti to wait for the airship to land. She gritted her teeth and leapt off.

The other Banshees had no ti to stop her. Hughes heard their cries of alarm in the Mind Link and imdiately looked up.

Monica had jumped from the airship, gripping a hoisting rope in her hand. Her erald green scales and flowing hair glinted in the night.

『Monica!!!』

The Banshees panicked, but no one could think of a solution. Although their bodies were strong, a fall from that height would be fatal. Even with the Sea God’s soul, Monica’s physical body hadn’t been significantly enhanced.

Monica plumted, streaking a green arc through the air. As she neared the ground, she clutched the rope tightly.

The rope was ant for hoisting, designed only for strength. Its surface was extrely rough, and within monts, deep wounds that exposed bone opened on her hands. Blood stained the rope red.

Monica gritted her teeth and grabbed on with both hands, even trying to wrap her tail around it. The speeding rope tore off many of her scales. Her long serpentine tail flinched, then coiled more firmly.

The rope burned with friction, scales flew, and blood soaked the tip of her tail, but under her effort, her speed truly began to slow.

Bang!

Monica crashed onto the furnace. Hughes was just about to rush over when he felt a powerful jolt from the palm pressed to the furnace.

It was complete.

Spirit and flesh, iron and fla—sacrifices and obsessions spanning millennia, the secret knowledge buried in the deep sea, and all that had remained unknown—now all converged within this steel-forged furnace.

The cover of the furnace had only just been roughly installed. Many screws hadn’t yet been tightened. So areas had only been loosely covered.

Yet now, each steel part began to bind tightly together, rging as one.

Tiny imperfections smoothed over, forging flaws were automatically repaired, and bolts that had been left loose began to turn on their own.

The will of the furnace itself was awakening. It required no further maintenance—it was adjusting each gear, every rivet, on its own.

A realization dawned upon Hughes. The ritual was rely an extension of will. When will beca strong enough, it could replace the ritual and directly bring about the result!

As the furnace’s will reached its peak, Hughes shouted the command:

“Ignite!”

The furnace paused for a mont.

Then, searing flas filled every inch of the chamber.

The workers who had just been installing the top were still in the Banshees’ arms, staring at the furnace in shock.

Banshees rushing from the network path erged and saw the blaze reflected in their eyes.

The Banshee team aboard the airship clung to the railing in panic, shouting Monica’s na down below.

With Hughes’ command, the massive furnace began to breathe. Fiery red light spread outward, illuminating the courtyard surrounded by Castel’s cathedral, like a volcanic eruption.

Monts later, the red glow surged upward from the furnace, shooting straight into the heavens.

At the heart of Castel, a crimson pillar of light pierced the sky, then radiated outward from this center point.

A sharp, clean shattering noise rang out, like glass crushed beneath a massive stone. The entire island began to tremble. Many people lost their footing and fell to the ground.

A wailing echoed from the furnace. The world was breaking apart. A crack appeared in the barrier that had trapped Castel for several months.

The Holy Guard patrolling around Castel were stunned to see that the once-dry seabed had suddenly filled with water, that stars had reappeared in the sky, and a familiar sensation welled up inside them—they had finally returned to the real world.

Monsters, war, murlocs, pollution—the events of the past few months surged into their minds. Many fell to their knees, weeping one mont and laughing the next.

Hughes had no ti to dwell on anything else. He scrambled up the maintenance platform to the top of the furnace. The scorching chamber, sensing his will, grew slightly cooler at the top.

He rushed to Monica’s side. She had made no sound after falling, but through the Mind Link, Hughes knew she wasn’t dead.

Not only was she alive, she was actively drawing life through the Symbiotic Contract. When Hughes reached her, he was shocked to see she was no longer the tall, imposing Banshee.

She had beco small—shorter than Hughes himself—returning to her forr appearance.

Monica’s body was covered in crimson blood, spattered over her pale skin, wrenching at the hearts of all who saw her.

The Symbiotic Contract had healed her wounds, but it hadn’t awakened her. Hughes gritted his teeth, slung her onto his back, and hurried down from the furnace.

“Monica!”

“Oh God… that’s Monica!”

“How is that possible? How are there two Monicas?!”

“Damn it—I rember now. I rember everything. We forgot her… we had forgotten her!”

“Monica…”

The Banshees gathered around. Many clutched their heads. As Castel returned to reality, mories gradually resurfaced. The small Monica—the Monica they’d seen in recent days—those ssy, tangled mories now returned, indistinguishable from one another.

A particularly tall Banshee suddenly pushed through the crowd. It was Ash. When she saw the small Monica, her silver-white eyes widened. She rushed forward, reached out a hand to touch her, but then recoiled.

She said nothing. Huge tears spilled from her eyes, flowing uncontrollably.

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