Industrial Cthulhu? It's Cthulhu Industrial!!

Chapter 42 Fleet Arrival (Seeking monthly ticket!)
"vomit!!!!"

Violent vomiting sounds were heard from the ship.

Even with enhanced human bodies to face what was happening now, the man and the adjutant still couldn't resist the nausea and vomiting. They just lay on the special officer toilet and vomited frantically, trying to empty all the substances in their abdominal cavity.

Consciousness Locking technology, based on both spiritual and magical techniques, can lock a person's consciousness and thoughts into a single day, looping endlessly. This can alleviate the mental depression and destructive desires that come with long journeys. More importantly, this technology can theoretically mitigate the mental fatigue and mental illness caused by being far from home, achieving a theoretically perfect mental state before setting sail.

But it is still obvious that this theoretically perfect thing is not as perfect as imagined in actual application.

Their conversations had continued countless times over the past six months, and their actions had also continued countless times. Even the decks and the interiors of the rooms were clearly marked with their footprints and blocks. Their minds were filled with the sound of conversations, and even the conversations themselves and their own mental will gradually became blurred.

But these were minor matters. Simply tossing a few unfortunate offerings from the cabin would quickly dispel the distractions within their minds. Blood sacrifice, a form of wish-granting ritual, was highly effective in various ways. It could also address the challenges of ocean voyages. But the real problem was their food supply—all the food and supplies they had brought with them—had become severely problematic.

The consciousness lock caused their eating and actions to begin to tend towards an infinite cycle, and they began to gnaw on the red wine steaks.

Of course, it was natural food at first, and there was no corruption or spoilage, let alone any problems. However, the cycle would repeat every few hours, and their endless opening and closing of the warehouse caused the antiseptic magic and seals on it to gradually lose their effectiveness over time.

Furthermore, due to the presence of the consciousness lock, they couldn't even break out of their own patterns of action, only to continuously produce fermenting red wine and rotting meat, bit by bit, to maintain this cycle. They watched helplessly as they consumed countless stinking, insect-infested things, even some of the Hell Corpse Worms spawned by the Hellfire Cannon. Even they themselves complained about why they were eating such things during the cycle. But it was clear that the consciousness lock stipulated this.

During the voyage, no matter what happened, they had to eat these things, complete the conversation, and then continue their ocean voyage.

Yes, their mental state was okay now; at least they could just vomit it out, which made them feel a little better. But because of this, they were sailing in glorious Britannia during the ceremony one moment, and then eating maggots and fetid water the next. It was quite difficult for their mental state to bear.

They could accept that the world had become terrible, but they couldn't quite accept that they had become just as terrible. As mystical aristocrats, they naturally hoped to control their own power and destiny, rather than being manipulated like puppets by more powerful forces.

After vomiting for nearly an hour in the captain's cabin and emptying his body of all substances, the man stumbled and pulled out a translucent needle from the refrigerator and plunged it into his chest. The wildfire power from the north quickly filled him with the strength to continue living amidst the ice and snow. He breathed a long sigh of relief, smoothed his hair, and began to breathe.

When facing various extreme situations, naval captains often choose to reserve and freeze some props from northern mythology. Their products are famous for feeling very uncomfortable but having very strong effects.

However, due to its high quality, it was not selected by the military supply department, but individuals continued to purchase it in the hope of saving their lives.

"This is worse than I thought... much worse."

"Yes, sir..."

The army lieutenant colonel also had a pale face, and he ate no fewer strange things than the navy colonel.

But as an army soldier, he had experienced a lot of pain and torture, and he was able to hold on, even maintaining the integrity of his posture. It was hard to tell that he had just been vomiting in the toilet to release his suffering.

"The consciousness lock does have its unique features... but it's stuck in an infinite loop. Even the extraction and consumption of substances will continue indefinitely. This is a flaw that must be noted. The next time the ritual is improved, the person must enter a looping state before the consciousness lock can be applied. Otherwise, every action could pose a huge risk... every single one."

"You're right, but I don't think it's going to be very useful... They won't spend even a penny on improving the feel or the feel. They only care about the results. The results are indeed good. But the premise is that we can get back alive."

The naval captain covered his frosty cheeks, then slowly exhaled a breath of cold air and sat on the chair in the captain's room, his expression becoming a little gloomy.

"I really hope that the god has prepared something for us. Although I think it's more likely that he's prepared some kind of artillery fire or something even more disturbing... You know what he did in Londinium? That horrific ritual site he created in his own home. If possible, I don't want my death to be meaningless. At least send this information back."

"Our souls are already attached to the relevant rituals and thought links. If we die, our souls will be pulled back. Our records will never be abandoned. This is a necessary preparation for contact with the tentacles of the gods... Ugh..."

"Would you like a suppressant shot? The ice and snow of the North are enough to suppress all negative emotions."

"No, it's just that some old injuries have been triggered, and now I can still suppress them."

Looking at the naval colonel who had completely recovered to his original state, the army lieutenant colonel forced a smile on his face and nodded.

Now that the mind lock had been released, they actually immediately began to carry out a series of maintenance work on the ship itself. These tasks were all carried out by the various ship's automated systems, which was why they were able to sit in the captain's room and talk casually.

Countless coffins emptied from the interior of the ship. This viscous mass of flesh and blood no longer held any meaning in sustaining them, a massive sacrifice to the ocean. And yet, amidst the vast ocean, the fleet, previously deprived of supplies due to the long voyage, began to gleam. They received a flood of supplies and replenishment, the energy flowing from nowhere refueling their depleted energy.

This is exactly why Britannia is invincible. Their power system is very mature and can ensure peak combat capabilities at any time.

All they had to do was kill some of the flesh and blood ritual objects that didn't take up space, and simply replenish some magic power and structure, and they could easily unleash their power on the spot. Just like now, under the brilliant sun, the entire fleet spread its wings like a swan shaking off its dirt.

Countless oars and sails rose from the sides of the ships, the shattered fragments representing crazed humans and soldiers whose consciousnesses had lost control. They were now worthless, simply cast into the sea by the blood sacrifice module, like sifted dregs beneath the fleet's dazzling light. Their flesh and blood illuminated the entire fleet, making the unfolding Britannia expedition fleet glow with a collective magical aura. The mana, depleted after six months of sailing, quickly recharged, and everyone released their consciousness locks, returning to their respective positions.

The fleet of ships that had awakened pushed open their gun ports in the ocean current, removed the cloth covering the figureheads, and a series of sails began to fall. These supernatural fleets began to advance vigorously towards the last few dozen kilometers, as if they wanted to completely crush all the enemies that blocked them.

Of course they had the capability. Each ship was equipped with an average of thirty demon soul cannons procured fifty years ago, guided by angel beacons issued by the Vatican. This crude and brutal combination could unleash soul-infused fire into any fortress, both mystical and material, completely destroying homes and structures with a double blow. Ordinary civilizations wouldn't even be able to withstand such a simple barrage.

Even if they withstood this initial bombardment, the Britannian fleet's magical matrices were no slouch. They could quickly link together, sacrificing flesh and blood to practically invoke the enemy's destruction in a manner almost like a wish. It was like a natural disaster, or the embodiment of nature's wrath. This power had proven unstoppable in countless wars of conquest, and no one could withstand such a powerful attack. Even nations blessed with divine protection would fall before the industrialized products and sacrifices of their lives, produced by the gods themselves.

However, the captain was now faced with a more bizarre, and even more fundamental, problem. Theoretically, the Misty Islands that existed nearby seemed to have disappeared.
"So just to confirm... have we sailed to the Misty Islands?"

"Judging from the sea god sacrifice and spiritual positioning, we have indeed arrived at the Misty Islands."

"But I only see a thick fog?"

"Because their name is the Misty Islands, sir. Perhaps we are just witnessing a natural phenomenon on this island."

"This is really... not surprising. Activating Heavenly Guardianship and letting the angels protect our ship is a negotiation between the gods and us. Let's see who is more dominant."

Although he gave such orders, the naval captain looked worriedly at the fog rising in broad daylight.

That's obviously not some natural phenomenon.

Although the army officers had participated in many battles, they were completely unaware of the gods' tricks and the existence of many things on the ocean. To the naval captain, the fog was nothing short of bizarre. It didn't sink, nor did it stir, it simply existed.

Furthermore, according to reports from deep-sea observers at the bottom of the ship, the fog had also created significant interference on the seafloor. From a supernatural perspective, it was nearly impossible to determine what was inside, or who occupied it. Originally, the area surrounding the Misty Islands was simply a vast, pale green fog. The captain's orders were quickly implemented, and the fleet began to be enveloped in a pale golden glow as it sailed towards the depths of the fog.

Soon, everyone felt something was wrong.

"Soul attack?"

Looking at the Angel Matrix that had not changed at all, and the various urgent reports coming from the area responsible for maintaining the Angel Matrix, the Navy Captain frowned.

This fog wasn't a supernatural force, but rather the power of a nature spirit. But who knew what this nature spirit was, possessing the power to harm the soul? All the fleets currently trapped in the fog appeared to be fine on the surface, but closer inspection revealed a blinding white light shimmering above the angel matrix's glow.

That is the process of countless souls colliding with the angels' hymns.

Because it needed to cover the entire ship and then predict the source of damage with precise defense, the Angel Matrix's mana consumption was actually exceptionally high. Furthermore, the damage from this dense fog was all-encompassing, penetrating every pore. This caused the Angel Matrix to operate at maximum power every second.

Amidst the countless radiances and flickering lights, the captain could sense his fleet's magic power being depleted at a terrifying rate. If this damage continued for four days, the Angel Matrix's defenses would likely be overwhelmed, shattered by this nameless mist. However, if that was all, the captain wasn't overly worried. After all, he believed that this was nothing compared to the fleet.

But what really shocked and even frightened him was that he saw something behind the fog.

It's light.

Like a pupil, a huge light shines out from behind the fog.

But why is the light alive? Why has it transformed into something like an octopus, or even something even more sinister and hideous, something even more indescribable? What exactly is happening here?
What terrified him even more was that a tiny ray of light from the foggy sky seemed to sweep across their fleet. In the next second, all the light converged into an indescribable, terrifying gaze, instantly fixated on their tiny expeditionary fleet.

And in that terrifying gaze, the angel's hymn rang completely in his ears.

That was the terrifying sound of the Angel Matrix working overtime, announcing that their first layer of defense was likely to be breached.

And they didn't even see the shadow of the enemy.

At this moment, a strange human voice seemed to come from the depths of the fog.

"...Hmm? So it's already this time?"

A shadowy voice said this in everyone's ears.

(End of this chapter)