Reincarnated with a Country Creation System

Two days later, Prince Theodore sat in his air-conditioned office at Gaborone, Votswana, shielded from the sweltering heat outside. The city, usually bustling with activity, seemed to slow under the oppressive sun, but inside the cool confines of his office, Theodore remained focused on the papers spread out before him.

His brow furrowed slightly as he skimmed through reports and diplomatic briefs, none of which did much to ease his growing concerns about Valoria.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. Without looking up, Theodore waved a hand. "Enter."

The door opened, and one of his aides, a young man with a crisp uniform and neatly combed hair, stepped inside. He moved with purpose, but there was something in his posture that caught Theodore's attention. The aide approached the desk, holding a printed letter.

"Your Royal Highness," the aide began, his tone respectful, "this just arrived. It's from Lord Reginald. He's returned from his meeting with Valoria."

Theodore glanced up, immediately sensing the importance of the message. He gestured for the letter, and the aide handed it over with both hands. The Prince unfolded it, the creases still fresh, and began to read. His eyes moved quickly over Lord Reginald's familiar handwriting, but the more he read, the more his expression darkened.

The aide remained silent, waiting patiently. Theodore's fingers tightened slightly on the edges of the letter as he reached the final lines, detailing Valoria's unyielding ambition and thinly veiled threats. He placed the letter on his desk, exhaling slowly, his mind racing with thoughts of what this meant for Triesenberg—and for the world.

"Valoria," Theodore muttered, half to himself, "Why are they acting like this? Well if that is the game they want to play, then we'll play their game. I will write a letter to my father, send more troops to this area. We are going to show them a little bit of the Triesenberg Army."

Prince Theodore sat down at his desk, the decision already forming in his mind. His fingers tapped lightly on the surface of the desk as he considered the wording for his letter. It had to be direct, clear, and leave no room for misinterpretation. Valoria's unchecked ambition could not be met with mere words—it needed a show of strength. The Triesenberg Empire would not be intimidated.

Pulling a fresh sheet of parchment from his drawer, Theodore dipped his pen into the inkwell and began to write.

[To His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Frederick of the Triesenberg Empire,

I write to you with the utmost urgency. Two days ago, I received a report from Lord Reginald Huxley following his meeting with the ruler of Valoria. The contents of his report are deeply concerning, as they reveal a nation bent on expansion and domination, not as an equal among powers, but as an empire intent on bending the world to its will.

Valoria's ambition knows no bounds, and they have made it clear that they intend to shape the future on their terms. We must be prepared for what is coming, Father. They do not seek cooperation—they seek submission.

As Prince and Governor of the Black Continent territories, I urge you to immediately mobilize the full strength of our fleet stationed in this region. We must send them to the coast nearest Valoria, not in an act of war, but as a message—a clear demonstration that Triesenberg will not be cowed by those who seek to rise unchecked.

Our presence must be felt, and Valoria must understand that while they may dream of domination, we will not allow it to come to pass unchallenged.

Please grant the authority to move our fleet into position, and send additional forces to ensure that our territories here are secure. The Black Continent must be a stronghold, ready for whatever may come. I await your swift response, knowing that you share my concerns and understand the gravity of this situation.

Your loyal son and servant,

Prince Theodore of Triesenberg]

Theodore read over the letter once more before sealing it with his personal crest. He handed it to his aide, who had been quietly waiting for the command.

"Send this directly to the Emperor," Theodore instructed. "No delays. And alert the fleet commander—we may need to move sooner than anticipated."

The aide nodded, taking the letter with a firm grip before exiting the room.

As the door closed behind him, Theodore leaned back in his chair, staring out of the window at the distant horizon. The heat outside seemed to pale in comparison to the storm brewing in his thoughts. He had no illusions about Valoria's intentions. They were building something, something far larger than just a nation.

And if Triesenberg didn't act swiftly, they would find themselves cornered by an empire that left no room for opposition.

"Let's see how Valoria responds to a fleet at their doorstep," Theodore muttered to himself.

***

At the Royal Palace of Triesenberg, Emperor Frederick sat at his grand oak desk, sunlight streaming through the large windows behind him.

The Emperor's sharp eyes moved over the letter that had just arrived from Gaborone. His son's handwriting, bold and confident, filled the page with words that unsettled him. Frederick frowned deeply as he finished reading, his fingers tightening on the edges of the parchment.

He placed the letter down carefully, as if it might ignite at any moment, and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Was Theodore out of his mind? Requesting the entire fleet stationed in the Black Continent to be mobilized? Frederick had sent him to observe, to gather intelligence on Valoria's intentions—not to provoke them with a full-scale show of force.

And now, his son was requesting more troops, more resources, in a region already strained by the last rebellion of the Matalebe Tribes against the Kingdom of Zambesi. Troops that had been sent to stabilize the situation were now being called upon for something far more dangerous.

"Has he lost sight of our broader strategy?" Frederick muttered to himself, frustration creeping into his voice. The empire was juggling too many interests at the moment. Read exclusive chapters at m_v-l'-NovelBin.net

Emperor Frederick stood and walked toward the window, the letter still clutched in his hand. The Black Continent was a volatile region—strategically important, yes, but also fraught with conflicts that required delicate handling. A full naval deployment would send a clear message, one that might tip the balance in the wrong direction.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. His personal advisor Lord Jonathan entered with a calm but concerned expression.

"Your Majesty, you seem troubled," Jonathan said, his voice respectful but probing. He approached cautiously, sensing the gravity of the situation from the Emperor's stance by the window.

Frederick sighed, turning to face his advisor. "Jonathan, it's Theodore. He's asking for the entire fleet stationed in the Black Continent to be mobilized. All of it. On top of that, he wants more troops."

Jonathan furrowed his brow, his eyes flicking to the letter that Frederick still held tightly in his hand. "Mobilizing the fleet in that region would certainly raise alarms across the continent. Valoria would take it as a direct challenge, and with their ambitions, it could push them to act more aggressively. Not to mention, the whole world is watching.

But I think your son Your Majesty has some sort of a plan. Perhaps we can entertain his request for about a week and then after that, have the naval fleet be returned to their post."

The Emperor contemplated. "No, let's summon the council and discuss it. We can't just send the entire Black Continent Fleet to Valoria because my son said so."