Reincarnated with a Country Creation System

Minister Chuma sat in his office, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his shoulders. The Valorian recall had begun swiftly, efficiently, and without any resistance. The embassy, once a hub of diplomacy and influence, now felt like an abandoned fortress, its gates closing, its corridors emptying. And yet, as the Valorian presence faded, the tension in Zambesi only increased.

The people had already begun to talk, murmurs spreading like wildfire through the streets of Maputo. Anti-Valorian sentiment was brewing, and the King would not be pleased by this turn of events.

Chuma knew he could delay no longer. He had to face King Mwanga and deliver the final details of Valoria's retreat. With a deep breath, he gathered his papers, each document outlining the stages of the Valorian withdrawal, and made his way to the palace. As his car navigated the streets, he couldn't help but notice the shift in atmosphere.

Where once the Valorian flag flew proudly beside that of Zambesi, it now stood absent. Where once the Valorian soldiers stood watch at key posts in the city, now only local troops remained, their presence a stark reminder of the fragile state Zambesi now found itself in.

Chuma arrived at the palace. The imposing structure loomed ahead, its towering walls and high arches symbols of the kingdom's long-standing power and tradition. But inside, Chuma knew, lay a storm waiting to be unleashed.

The guards at the palace gates greeted him with solemn nods, and Chuma made his way through the grand halls toward the King's chamber. Every step echoed in the cavernous halls, heightening the anxiety swirling in his chest. King Mwanga was not a man who took kindly to bad news, and today's report would be the hardest Chuma had ever delivered.

At the entrance to the King's chamber, Chuma was greeted by two attendants, their faces expressionless as they opened the heavy wooden doors. Inside, the King sat at a long table, a map of the kingdom spread before him. Advisors stood around the table, all wearing serious expressions. Mwanga's eyes flicked up as Chuma entered, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

"Minister Chuma," King Mwanga greeted him, his voice betraying none of the anger Chuma knew simmered just below the surface. "I trust you bring me news of the Valorians."

Chuma bowed respectfully, taking his place at the far end of the table. "Your Majesty," he began, keeping his tone as neutral as possible, "the Valorian withdrawal is proceeding as expected. Their naval fleet will depart the harbor by dawn, and all military advisors have returned to the embassy.

Diplomatic staff are finalizing the closure of the embassy, and within three days, they will be completely gone from Zambesi."

Mwanga's hand clenched the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening. "So it's true then," he muttered darkly. "They sever ties with us as though we were nothing more than pawns on their chessboard."

Chuma glanced at the advisors around the room, their expressions guarded. He continued carefully, "Valoria has made its decision clear, Your Majesty. They cannot, in their view, support our campaign against the Matalebe tribes. They see it as a violation of human rights and have withdrawn their support to avoid association with these actions."

The King's fist slammed down onto the table, rattling the map and causing a few of the advisors to flinch. "Human rights?" Mwanga spat, his eyes blazing with fury. "Do they think I do this for pleasure? For cruelty? These so-called 'Matalebe civilians' have been nothing but a thorn in my side, harboring insurgents, stirring unrest. They would see Zambesi fall into chaos if we did nothing!"

Chuma stood silently, allowing the King to vent his anger. He knew better than to interrupt.

"They speak of principles," Mwanga continued, his voice rising. "But where were their principles when they needed our resources, when they sought trade and military cooperation? Where were their principles when they wanted to expand their influence in this region? And now, because we do what is necessary for the security of our people, they abandon us as if we were never their allies."

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. Mwanga leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the map before him.

"They are simple-minded," the King growled after a moment. "They do not understand what it means to rule a nation like Zambesi. We are not Valoria, with our borders secure and our people compliant. We face threats from within and without.

The Matalebe tribes have been a menace for generations, and now, when we have the chance to modernize, to unify this land, Valoria recoils at the sight of a little bloodshed."

Chuma cleared his throat cautiously, knowing that the next part of his report would not soothe the King's temper. "Your Majesty, with Valoria's withdrawal, we are left vulnerable. Neighboring nations that are under control by western powers are seeking interest over our country. Due to the discovery of oil in the region, it would only take them a moment to pounce on the opportunity."

Chuma continued. "They've been circling us ever since the discovery of oil reserves. What baffles me, Your Majesty, is why Valoria would walk away now, knowing full well the strategic value of those reserves."

King Mwanga's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing in deep thought. He rose from his chair and paced back and forth, his movements agitated as his mind raced. "Exactly," he muttered, half to himself. "They knew about the oil. It was one of the reasons they were so eager to deepen our alliance. Yet they leave us now, at this critical moment?

It doesn't make sense."

Chuma nodded, watching the King's reaction carefully. "It defies logic, Your Majesty. With Valoria pulling out, we are now exposed to other powers who have been eyeing those reserves. They will use this as an opportunity to exert influence over us, especially since we no longer have the Valorians as a counterweight."

"Well in that case, I think we should propose an alliance, not from Valoria, but from the Empire of Triesenberg."

Chuma's eyes widened in shock, and so does the rest of his advisers.

"Your Majesty, you can't be thinking of getting back on them by allying ourselves to their rival. And not to mention, the Triesenberg doesn't ally with a country originating in the Black Continent. They will likely force us to sign unequal treaties."

King Mwanga turned sharply toward Chuma, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. "And what if they do? Wouldn't it be better to play the game Valoria has abandoned?" His voice carried an edge of defiance, as if daring his advisors to challenge him.

"Unequal treaties, you say? Valoria has left us with little choice. We either make ourselves attractive to another power or risk being swallowed by the wolves at our gates. We need an ally with strength—real strength—not one who abandons us when things become difficult."

Chuma hesitated, glancing around at the other advisors in the room. Their faces reflected his own concern. The Triesenberg Empire, with its military prowess and territorial ambitions, was not known for alliances of equality, especially with nations on the Black Continent. Yet, the situation had become desperate.

"Your Majesty," one of the older advisors finally spoke up, his voice cautious, "Triesenberg has a reputation for… dominance. They may offer assistance, but at what cost? We have seen how they have treated other nations—exploitation of resources, control of governance. It may be a deal with the devil, so to speak."

Mwanga's gaze flicked to the advisor, his expression hardening. "Perhaps the devil is exactly what we need right now," he said. "The Valorians have shown their true colors. They speak of morality and human rights, but when it comes to our sovereignty, they run away like cowards. We will not be at the mercy of anyone. Not the Matalebe, not Valoria, and certainly not the meddling Western nations.

Triesenberg may take what they want, but we will ensure they leave us strong enough to stand on our own."

The room fell silent, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Chuma felt the weight of the decision bearing down on them all. There was no denying that Zambesi was in a precarious position. But to reach out to Triesenberg—a nation that had historically shown little regard for the autonomy of others—felt like a gamble they might not survive.

Mwanga moved back to the table, leaning over the map spread out before him. His fingers traced the borders of Zambesi, the rich land under his control, the oil reserves newly discovered in the north. "If we are to modernize this country, if we are to take our place on the global stage, then we need to make bold decisions.

Triesenberg may be ambitious, but we will negotiate from a position of strength. We have something they want, and we will ensure that we get what we need in return."

One of the younger advisors, emboldened by the King's resolve, spoke up. "We have oil, Your Majesty. Triesenberg would be foolish not to accept our terms. They need the energy, and we control vast reserves. This could give us leverage over them as well."

Mwanga smiled grimly, nodding in agreement. "Exactly. We will not go into this alliance weak or begging. We will present ourselves as equals, and we will not bow to them. If they want our resources, they will have to ensure Zambesi's security and modernization in return."

Chuma felt a deep unease growing within him. The King's ambition was undeniable, and his determination to keep Zambesi strong was admirable, but he feared that dealing with a power like Triesenberg would have unforeseen consequences.

"Your Majesty," Chuma said after a moment, "if we proceed, we should carefully draft the terms of any agreement. We need to ensure that our sovereignty remains intact and that we do not become reliant on them for our future growth."

Mwanga's gaze softened slightly as he looked at Chuma. "You always think ahead, Minister. That is why I value your counsel. We will be careful."