Reincarnated with a Country Creation System

The door creaked open behind him, and his aide, Lieutenant Falk, entered quietly, his face pale. Theodore didn\'t turn, but he felt the weight of Falk\'s presence.

"Your Highness..." Falk began, his voice trembling ever so slightly. He hesitated for a moment, then continued. "The Triesenese Naval Fleet has...retreated from their positions near Valorian waters. Admiral Sturbridge complied with their demands."

There was a heartbeat of silence before Theodore spun around, his eyes blazing with fury. "What?" His voice was a roar, shaking the very air in the room.

Falk flinched. "They have...they\'ve withdrawn, Your Highness. The Valorian fleet held their ground, and Sturbridge chose to avoid conflict."

For a moment, Theodore\'s expression was unreadable, as if he hadn\'t fully processed the words. Then, with a savage yell, he kicked the table in front of him, sending maps, glasses, and ink bottles crashing to the floor. The sharp sound of shattering glass rang through the chamber as the prince stormed toward the far wall, his fists clenched.

"Retreated? RETREATED?" he bellowed, his voice thick with rage. "How dare they! How dare Sturbridge turn his back on Valoria!"

He grabbed the nearest object—a decanter of fine brandy—and hurled it against the wall. The glass exploded on impact, amber liquid spraying across the stone. Theodore\'s chest heaved, his breath ragged, as he ripped one of the thick velvet curtains from the window and tore it to shreds with his bare hands.

"You weak, spineless cowards!" he shouted, his voice breaking as he overturned a chair, sending it crashing to the ground. His boots crunched over broken glass as he stormed back to the table, lifting it by its edge and flipping it violently. The heavy wood struck the floor with a deafening thud, splintering at the corners.

Falk stood frozen, his eyes wide as he watched the prince\'s furious rampage.

Theodore\'s face was flushed, his lips pulled back in a snarl as he stalked toward another cabinet. With a swift kick, he shattered its glass doors, sending fine porcelain and crystal tumbling out and crashing onto the floor.

"They\'ve humiliated me!" he raged, kicking the remains of the cabinet aside. "Sturbridge has made us look like fools!" His hands clenched into fists, and for a moment, it seemed like he might strike Falk himself. The aide took a step back, fear clear in his eyes.

Theodore\'s breath came in ragged gasps as he stood amid the wreckage, his once-pristine war room now in ruins. His eyes blazed with fury, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his entire body shaking.

Prince Theodore\'s voice dripped with disbelief and anger, his words echoing through the wreckage of the once pristine war room. His face was flushed, and his hands trembled as he struggled to contain the fire raging inside him.

"They fear the Valorians, Falk!" Theodore spat, his voice climbing in pitch as he continued. "We are supposed to be feared! The Triesenberg Empire, the mightiest force on land and sea, brought to heel by a pack of cowards!"

Falk stood in silence, his eyes cast down, unsure of how to respond. He had seen Theodore\'s anger before, but never like this. The prince was losing control, driven by humiliation and wounded pride.

"They\'ve humiliated me," Theodore muttered, as if speaking to himself. His eyes darted across the room, landing on the shattered glass, the overturned furniture, the wreckage that matched the chaos in his mind. "The world will see this retreat as a failure, as a sign that I—we—are weak."

The prince slammed his fist down on the nearest piece of furniture that was still intact, a small wooden cabinet, which groaned under the impact. "Sturbridge should have fought! He should have gone down in flames rather than tuck tail and run. He\'s made us look like cowards, Falk!"

Falk finally dared to speak, though his voice was barely above a whisper. "Your Highness, the Admiral acted in the interest of preserving the fleet, ensuring that we—"

"Ensuring what?" Theodore snapped, cutting him off. "That we look pathetic? That the Valorians now think they can push us around whenever they please? This was more than just a naval standoff; this was about showing the world that Triesenberg bows to no one."

Theodore grabbed a nearby chair and threw it across the room, watching it splinter as it hit the wall. His chest heaved, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. The once-powerful prince now seemed on the verge of collapsing under the weight of his own fury.

"Do you think the other nations won\'t hear about this?" Theodore continued, pacing back and forth. "By the time the sun rises tomorrow, every kingdom, every ruler, every damn ambassador will know what happened today. And they\'ll mock us. Me!"

The prince\'s voice cracked, betraying the insecurity that lurked beneath the anger. It wasn\'t just about the empire; it was personal. Theodore\'s pride had been wounded, and the sting was unbearable.

"They\'ll whisper about how the great Prince Theodore couldn\'t even handle the Valorians at sea. They\'ll say I\'m not fit to lead this empire—"

"No one would dare say that," Falk interrupted, his voice firmer now.

Theodore spun around to face him, eyes blazing. "Is it? Is it really?" He stepped closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl. "Because today, it feels like my authority was questioned. Today, I feel like a prince who had his crown stolen by a foreign power."

Falk swallowed hard, unsure of what to say.

Theodore turned away. "This is humiliating…how could I even face my father? I even requested a fleet and look what that fleet has done?"

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"They fucking turned around and ran," Theodore seethed, his voice low but trembling with barely contained rage. He raked his hands through his hair, tugging hard at the roots as if the physical pain could somehow drown out the shame burning in his chest. "How am I supposed to look my father in the eye after this?" His tone was raw, filled with bitterness.

Falk remained silent, sensing the storm still brewing within the prince. He had no answer for Theodore, no way to calm the fury that had consumed him.

Theodore, pacing like a caged beast, suddenly stopped and slammed his fist into the nearest wall. "All those years of building an empire, of showing strength! All wasted in one moment because of that coward Sturbridge!" His knuckles were scraped and bleeding now, but he barely noticed the pain. His eyes were wild, darting around the room as if searching for something else to destroy.

"I\'ll make them pay for this," he muttered, almost to himself.