Reincarnated with the Country System

Indiana empire — Capital

The incense in the Hall of Divine Dominion had long since faded, but the scent still clung to the stone like memory. Outside, the golden lights of the capital shimmered against the night sky, flickering like a thousand stars caught in a cage of marble and steel.

But inside the throne hall, all was still.

Emperor Yadav stood alone at the edge of the window gallery, staring into the endless dark beyond the mountains.

In his hand, a sealed letter. The seal was foreign.

He broke it open.

His eyes moved across the page, slow at first. Then faster. And then stopped.

The silence that followed was sharp, like the pause before lightning strikes.

"To the Ruler of the Indiana Empire:

You stand in violation of Bernardian territorial sovereignty.

You have deployed scouts, operatives, and armed forces near our holdings in Ostra. Your intentions are clear.

Withdraw all presence.

Submit to peaceful integration under the Bernard Empire.

Or face absolute eradication."

The silence that followed was more dangerous than sound.

Yadav's eyes narrowed.

His jaw tightened.

Then—he crumpled the letter in his fist, veins pulsing beneath pale skin.

"Damn it."

His voice cracked across the stone like a whip.

He turned, fury painted across his face.

"This is war," he growled. "These bastards think they can threaten us?"

He strode toward the center of the hall.

Guards stood frozen. Ministers outside the doors waited.

Then, the gates opened with a groaning boom.

The court entered without summons. They had already heard.

Prime Minister Keshav. General Rudra. Intelligence Chief Malen. And Acharya Narayan, the Grand Seer of the Fifth Mirror.

Yadav didn't sit on the throne. He stood before it.

"I've ruled this empire for years," he began, his voice low but seething. "I shattered the Seven Clans of the Southern Steppes. I broke the Malak incursion during the Dagger War. I brought the nobles to their knees and burned the roots of corruption from this land."

He lifted the crushed letter.

"And now—a country that didn't even exist years ago tells us to kneel?"

He threw it to the floor.

"A warning?" Malen said carefully. "It's more than that, Majesty. This morning, our northern patrol fleet reported sightings of a Bernardian force."

"How many?" asked Rudra, arms crossed, jaw clenched.

"Thirty-seven ships confirmed. Possibly more. All full-metal."

The court went silent.

Keshav frowned. "Full-metal?"

Malen nodded. "Y-Yes. Not even steel-clad like our war barges. Their hulls are entirely metallic."

The room stirred.

"That's not possible," Rudra muttered. "Ships like that would weigh too much. They'd sink. Or break under their own mass."

"They don't," Malen said simply. "No sails. No figureheads. Just... red lights and guns. Bigger guns than I've ever seen mounted on a sea vessel."

"They're bluffing," someone muttered. "No country builds fleets like that. Not in secret."

"Even the Dwarven Council doesn't field more than a hundred full-metal ships," Keshav said. "And they've been forging for three thousand years."

Yadav's voice cut through the growing voices.

"We've bought seventeen full-metal vessels from the Dwarves over the past five decades. That's it. And only because of our alliance treaty and gold tribute. Those ships took decades to build. And these Bernardians bring thirty-seven overnight?"

He paused.

"There's a trick."

"And they want war," Rudra said, eyes gleaming. "Or submission."

"The nerve of it," Keshav muttered. "They think they can conquer Indiana? We have seventy provinces. Five million active soldiers. A navy that spans three oceans."

Acharya Narayan stepped forward, his robes rippling with ancient symbols.

"There is more here than arrogance," he said.

Yadav turned to him slowly.

"We know little of them," the Seer continued. "Yet they spread like fire across Ostra. Latvia. Harnas. Jimland. Amazonia. All gone. Without resistance. Without survivors."

He looked directly at the Emperor.

"Their weapons defy prophecy. Their soldiers wear machines as flesh. And their leader…"

He paused.

"Alberto Bernard. He is not born of this world."

A chill settled into the air.

Even Yadav's rage faltered.

"You've said that before," Yadav muttered. "Explain."

Narayan nodded.

"The ruler they claim as their 'founder.' But the magic around him is... alien. It appears older than his empire. I sense it. He is not of this realm. He thinks in patterns beyond prophecy."

Yadav's expression turned to stone.

"Meaning?"

"We've seen men with vision. And we've seen tyrants. But this man—he moves like a god playing war. He doesn't follow the laws of balance. Of fate. Of consequence."

"Madness," Rudra muttered.

Narayan shook his head slowly. "You think too small, General."

Yadav turned back to the great window.

"I don't care what he is," he said at last. "I don't care if he fell from the stars, or crawled from the ruins of time. God, man, ghost—it makes no difference. The Bernard Empire just threatened Indiana. They crossed the line."

He turned, his voice thunderous now.

"They think we'll kneel. That we've grown soft after our civil war. That we fear another conflict."

He raised a clenched fist.

"Then let them bleed."

"Your Majesty—if we move too fast—" Keshav began.

"I'm not asking."

He turned to Malen. "Can we strike Ostra now?"

"I think we can deploy the troops. The Emperor of Malak is ill, so they will be busy with the election of the next successor. We can recruit several new soldiers and deploy additional troops."

Yadav nodded.

"Rudra."

"Say the word, my Emperor," the General said, already stepping forward.

Yadav paused, then spoke like a blade drawn from a sacred sheath.

"We invade."

Gasps echoed through the court.

Yadav's voice rose once more.

"If we yield now, the world will see weakness. And weakness invites the sword. No. We will strike first. We will burn their illusions of power and drive their fleets to the ocean's grave."

He stepped atop the first stair before the throne, eyes glowing with wrath.

"Let the world remember."

"We are the Indiana Empire."

"We conquer what dares to stand in our path."

And across the court, a chorus rose—firm and thunderous.

"All hail Emperor Yadav."

"All hail the Indiana Empire."