Reincarnated with a Country Creation System

The cold winds of Volkshalle howled through the towering spires of Valoria's grand capitol as Julieanne approached the Supreme Leader's chambers. The weight of her mission bore heavily on her shoulders. She had spent the last two weeks meticulously collecting reports on Ruthenia's escalating crackdown. Now, she had to deliver the grim news to Alexander, who had bet much of his vision for a continent-wide revolution on the success of the Ruthenian uprising.

Julieanne entered the vast chamber, where Alexander stood facing a massive map of Europe. His high-collared military coat and the faint glow of the fireplace behind him gave him the appearance of a statue carved from cold steel. He did not turn as Julieanne approached.

"Speak," Alexander commanded, his voice sharp but calm.

Julieanne took a steadying breath, clutching the folder of reports. "The situation in Ruthenia has deteriorated, Supreme Leader. The revolutionaries have been decimated. Novogorod has fallen completely under Ivan's control."

Alexander's head tilted slightly, though he still didn't turn. "Decimated? I gave them the tools to spark the fire. What happened?"

Julieanne opened the folder and began reading from the detailed reports. "The loyalist forces moved with unprecedented speed and precision. Ivan deployed overwhelming firepower, showing no mercy to civilians or combatants. Revolutionary cells have been dismantled, their leaders captured or killed. The remaining insurgents have been forced into deep hiding, and their ability to coordinate has been reduced to near nothing."

The words hung in the air, heavy with disappointment. Alexander finally turned, his piercing gaze locking onto Julieanne.

"And the supplies? The weapons, the funds? Did they not reach them in time?"

"They did," Julieanne said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But by the time our operatives delivered them, the revolution was already crumbling. Ivan's forces struck with such brutality and speed that the supplies barely made a difference."

Alexander's expression darkened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "And the people? Surely the people must see the oppression and rise against him."

Julieanne hesitated. "The people... are terrified, Supreme Leader. Ivan's tactics have cowed them into submission. Entire villages have been razed as examples. Families are too afraid to harbor even a whisper of dissent. His methods are brutal, but they are effective."

Alexander turned back to the map, his fingers tracing the borders of Ruthenia. "If Ruthenia falls, the revolution fails. Without Ruthenia, the fire cannot spread. The other nations will see rebellion as futile."

Julieanne stepped closer. "We underestimated Ivan's ruthlessness. But Valoria's vision doesn't depend solely on Ruthenia. We still have allies in other nations. We can regroup, adjust our strategy."

Alexander spun to face her, his voice rising with a rare intensity. "Ruthenia was supposed to be the catalyst! It was supposed to show the oppressed of Europe that tyranny can be overthrown! Now it shows them that resistance leads to annihilation."

Julieanne met his gaze, unwavering. "Then we must change the narrative. The Ruthenians fought valiantly. Their sacrifices can still inspire others—if we frame it that way."

***

The streets of Novogorod were a grim testament to Ivan's unyielding rule. Burned-out buildings and shattered windows were all that remained of revolutionary strongholds. Soldiers patrolled every corner, their presence a constant reminder of the consequences of rebellion. In the outskirts of the city, small groups of loyalist troops scoured the countryside for any lingering insurgents.

Irina crouched behind the charred remains of a farmhouse, her breath visible in the frigid air. The once-proud revolutionary now moved like a ghost, her clothes tattered and her rifle the only possession she had left. She had lost contact with the others days ago, and the constant sound of marching boots and barking dogs made survival an hourly struggle.

In a nearby village, Commander Antonov reviewed the latest captures. The prisoners—a mix of young men, women, and even children—stood in a silent row, their faces pale and their hands bound.

"Another dozen," a subordinate reported. "Claimed they weren't involved, but we found leaflets in their homes."

Antonov's face remained impassive. "Send them to the camps. They'll have plenty of time to reconsider their stories."

The subordinate nodded and moved to carry out the order. Antonov turned to a map spread across a nearby table, marking another village for a sweep. His mission was clear: no revolutionary, no sympathizer, no spark of dissent could remain.

Back in Valoria.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Julieanne paced the war room, speaking with Valoria's top strategists. The air was tense, each person acutely aware of the stakes. General Raelthorn Graves stood at the head of the table, his expression as grim as the reports spread before him.

"We underestimated Ivan," Graves admitted. "He's turned Ruthenia into a fortress. Any attempt to intervene now would be suicidal."

"And yet we cannot afford to let this defeat define the revolution," Julieanne argued. "We need to find another way—another front to ignite the spark."

Graves shook his head. "With Ruthenia's fall, the momentum is gone. The other nations we've been courting are reconsidering their positions. They see Ivan's success and fear the same outcome."

Julieanne slammed her hands on the table, her frustration boiling over. "Then we make them fear us more. If Ivan's rule inspires fear, then we must inspire terror in the tyrants who follow him. We cannot afford to back down now."

Graves studied her for a moment before nodding. "Then we start planning. But we'll need Alexander's full support—and a clear plan."

The next day, Alexander stood in the Volkshalle, addressing a gathering of his closest advisors and military leaders. The hall was silent as he began to speak, his voice carrying the weight of his resolve.

"The fall of Ruthenia's revolution is a tragedy," he said, his tone measured. "But it is not the end of our dream. The brave men and women who fought against Ivan's tyranny showed us what courage looks like. Their sacrifices will not be in vain."

He paused, letting the words sink in. "Ivan believes he has silenced the voice of rebellion. But he has only delayed the inevitable. Tyranny cannot endure forever. The oppressed will rise, and when they do, Valoria will stand with them."

The room erupted into applause, but Alexander's gaze remained steely. Turning to Julieanne and Graves, he said, "Prepare our next move. We may have lost Ruthenia, but this war is far from over."

In Ruthenia.

Irina crouched in the shadows of an abandoned barn, clutching her rifle as loyalist patrols passed nearby. The sound of boots crunching in the snow was a constant reminder of the danger that surrounded her. She was one of the last remaining revolutionaries, her comrades either captured or dead. But even as the darkness closed in around her, Irina refused to give up.

In a hidden compartment beneath the barn's floor, she found a box of leaflets—crumpled but still legible. The bold words on the pages read: "Ruthenia will rise again!" With trembling hands, she stuffed them into her bag. The fight wasn't over—not yet.

As the Ruthenian countryside fell into an uneasy silence, whispers of rebellion continued to spread. In Valoria, Alexander's strategists worked tirelessly to regroup and plan their next move. And in the shadows of Ruthenia's ruined cities, the seeds of defiance began to grow once more. The revolution had suffered a crushing blow, but the dream of freedom was far from extinguished.