Reincarnated with a Country Creation System

The Matalebe leader took a deep breath, casting one last glance at his warriors. Their faces were etched with concern, but they remained silent, trusting in his judgment. He knew that this decision could change the fate of his people, for better or worse.

With a firm nod, he stepped forward, signaling that he was ready to proceed. The Triesenberg official gestured towards one of the waiting vehicles, an armored car that stood out amidst the rubble and devastation.

As they reached the vehicle, the Triesenberg official opened the door, motioning for the Matalebe leader to enter first. He hesitated for a moment, then climbed inside, the unfamiliar scent of leather and metal assaulting his senses. The interior was surprisingly spacious, designed with both comfort and function in mind.

The Triesenberg official and the interpreter followed him in, and the door closed with a soft click, sealing them inside.

The vehicle started moving, the hum of the engine barely audible over the thick, armored walls. The Matalebe leader sat rigidly in his seat, his eyes flicking between the two men seated across from him. The Triesenberg official maintained his calm, detached demeanor, while the interpreter watched the leader closely, ready to translate any conversation that might occur.

After a few moments of silence, the Triesenberg official spoke.

"Prince Theodore Triesenberg has been led to believe that the Matalebe have the right to govern your country. Yet you are forced to follow a constitution that conflicts with your traditions and limits your sovereignty."

The prince understands that the Matalebe people have been marginalized and that their culture and way of life are under threat. He believes that your tribe has a rightful place as leaders in this region, not subordinates."

The Matalebe leader's eyes narrowed as he listened, his suspicions growing. "Again, why would a prince from a distant land care about our people? What does he stand to gain from this?"

The Triesenberg official remained composed, his expression unreadable. "Prince Theodore is a man of vision. He understands that in order to secure stability and prosperity in this region, he needs strong allies—people who know the land, and who have a stake in its future. The Matalebe are such a people. You have the strength, the history, and the will to lead.

The prince seeks to support that leadership, not just for his own benefit, but for the benefit of your people as well."

The Matalebe leader considered this carefully. It was true that his people had been sidelined, their influence eroded by the central government. The idea of reclaiming their place, of leading their nation on their own terms, was undeniably appealing. But the involvement of a foreign power, one with its own interests, complicated matters.

Also, he couldn't help but doubt the sincerity of his words. It's just too good to be true. The Western nations had colonized almost all of the black continent and their promises had rarely been kept. The Matalebe leader had seen enough of history to know that alliances with foreign powers often came with hidden chains, binding his people in ways they would not foresee until it was too late.

He studied the Triesenberg official, searching for any sign of deceit in his calm demeanor. The man's expression was impassive, giving nothing away. The interpreter, too, waited patiently, his eyes betraying no emotion.

"What assurances do we have," the Matalebe leader finally asked, "that your prince's offer is genuine? That this isn't just another way to exploit our people for your own gain?"

After all, the country that they were in right now, the Votswana is a colony of the Empire of Triesenberg so he had every reason to be cautious. The history of colonization was written in the blood and betrayal of those who had trusted too easily, and the Matalebe leader was determined not to repeat those mistakes.

"His Royal Highness would be the one to answer that question," the Triesenberg official replied calmly. "You will have the opportunity to meet with him directly in Gaborone. He understands the weight of the decisions you must make, and he respects your right to seek assurances.

Rest assured, Prince Theodore intends to demonstrate his commitment to this alliance in a way that will leave no doubt in your mind."

The Matalebe leader remained silent.

As the armored car rumbled on, the landscape outside began to change. The rugged terrain of the borderlands gradually gave way to more developed areas, with paved roads, clusters of buildings, and signs of increasing human activity. It wasn't long before they entered the outskirts of Gaberone, the capital of Votswana.

The Matalebe leader observed everything closely, taking in the signs of wealth and power that marked the capital. He noted the way the local population interacted with the Triesenberg officials and soldiers—some with deference, others with quiet resentment.

It was clear that the Empire's influence was pervasive, and the leader wondered how much of this wealth had been built on the backs of the local people.

The vehicle eventually slowed as they approached a large, imposing building at the heart of the city. It was a palace of sorts. The sight of the building made the Matalebe leader's stomach tighten with unease.

The car came to a stop, and the door was opened from the outside. The Triesenberg official and the interpreter stepped out first, followed by the Matalebe leader. He took a moment to steady himself, drawing in a deep breath before exiting the vehicle.

A small delegation of Triesenberg and Votswanan officials awaited them at the entrance to the palace.

"You must be the leader of the Matalebe Tribe," Lord Reginald greeted.

"No, I am not the leader, I'm what you call a military leader of our army but I can stand as a representative for our tribe in this meeting," Kagiso replied.

Lord Reginald nodded, acknowledging Kagiso's role. "Very well, Commander Kagiso. You will represent the Matalebe in these discussions. Please, follow us."

Kagiso followed Lord Reginald and the other officials through the grand entrance of the palace.

After several turns through the labyrinthine corridors, they arrived at a large set of double doors. Two guards stationed outside moved to open them, revealing a spacious office beyond. The room was dominated by a large, intricately carved wooden desk, behind which sat Prince Theodore Triesenberg.

"Now who do we have here," Prince Theodore spoke.