Reincarnated with the Country System

The LNS Caspian, the pride of Latvia's naval might, cut through the waves of the North Sea like a leviathan of iron and fire. At 900 feet long, it was not just a ship—it was a floating fortress, a symbol of Latvia's dominance over the seas. Its hull, forged from reinforced iron, gleamed under the pale sunlight, while its eight decks bristled with weaponry and magic. The ship was a marvel of engineering and arcane craftsmanship, a testament to the resources and ambition of the Latvia Kingdom. At its helm stood Supreme Admiral Borsk the Ironclad, a man whose presence was as imposing as the ship he commanded.

Borsk was no ordinary man. His massive frame, hunched and elephantine, earned him the moniker "Elephant Man" among his crew. His skin was thick and grey, resembling the hide of a pachyderm, and his deep-set eyes glowed with a fierce intelligence. He was a strategist, a warrior, and a leader who had earned his title through decades of ruthless efficiency. His voice, a deep rumble that echoed like distant thunder, commanded instant obedience.

The LNS Caspian was more than just a ship—it was a dragon carrier, a mobile stronghold designed to project Latvia's power across the seas. Two of its decks were dedicated to housing dragons, majestic creatures of fire and scale that rested in massive iron cages. Dozens of dragons lounged on the ship's upper decks, their wings folded and their eyes scanning the horizon. The ship's defences were equally formidable: 300 cannons lined its sides, each capable of firing 42-pound iron balls that could reduce enemy ships to splinters. Towers equipped with ballistas and archers stood ready to repel aerial assaults, while enchanted weapons hummed with latent magical energy.

The Caspian was not alone. Surrounding it were hundreds of ships, a sprawling armada that formed the backbone of Latvia's naval forces. Among them were two smaller dragon carriers compared to LNS Caspian, each a formidable vessel in its own right, though they paled in comparison to the Caspian's sheer size and power. The fleet was a sight to behold, a testament to Latvia's military might.

Two leviathans—massive, serpentine sea monsters pulled the ship through the water. These creatures, resembling plesiosaurs, were each 50 feet long, with powerful flippers and long necks that rose above the waves. They were chained to the Caspian's bow, their eyes glowing with a faint, otherworldly light. Tamed by Latvian mages, these beasts were both a means of propulsion and a weapon, capable of tearing enemy ships apart with their razor-sharp teeth.

In the heart of the Caspian's command deck, Borsk stood before a massive map of the North Sea, his hands clasped behind his back. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of oil and iron. Around him, officers and mages worked tirelessly, their voices a low murmur of activity.

A Fishman knelt before him, his scaled skin glistening under the flickering light of the oil lamps. Fishmen were a common sight in the Latvian navy, their aquatic abilities making them invaluable scouts and messengers. This one, however, bore grim news.

"Supreme Admiral," the Fishman began, his voice gurgling slightly, "we have not been able to contact Admiral Vladislav. I fear he has been defeated."

Borsk's massive frame stiffened. His eyes narrowed, and his fists clenched at his sides. "Defeated? Impossible! I sent him 300 ships, a fleet capable of crushing any enemy. I even provided him with a power boost—dragons, sea monsters, and a Grade 4 dark mage. How could he fall?"

The fishman hesitated, his gills flaring nervously. "The last time we made contact, Admiral Vladislav mentioned that they had been trapped. He spoke of the Strom Empress."

Borsk's brow furrowed. The Strom Empress—a name that struck fear into the hearts of even the most seasoned warriors. She was a legend, a sorceress of unparalleled power who commanded the storms themselves. Her presence on the battlefield was enough to turn the tide of any conflict.

"The Strom Empress…" Borsk muttered, his voice low and dangerous. "Even she should not have been enough to destroy Vladislav's fleet. I sent him a Grade 4 dark mage, a match for her in raw power. And with the dragons and sea monsters at his disposal, he should have been unstoppable."

The fishman bowed his head. "I do not know what happened, Supreme Admiral. But our scouts have not returned. We sent dragon raiders to investigate, but none have come back."

Borsk slammed his fist on the table, the impact shaking the room. "This is unacceptable! Vladislav was one of our finest commanders. His defeat is a blow to our entire operation. But…" He paused, his mind racing. "If they managed to defeat Vladislav, they must have suffered heavy losses. Their forces would be weakened and vulnerable. If we strike now, we can still crush them."

The fishman nodded. "What are your orders, Supreme Admiral?"

Borsk turned to the map, his eyes scanning the sea. "Prepare another fleet. We will move to intercept their forces. And send word to the mages—I want their mana restored as quickly as possible. We will need every advantage we can get."

...........

High above the LNS Caspian, a squadron of dragon raiders patrolled the skies. Mounted on the backs of their winged steeds, they scanned the horizon for any signs of danger. The dragons, sleek and agile, glided effortlessly through the air, their riders armed with bows and enchanted weapons.

Suddenly, one of the raiders spotted something—a blur of motion, faster than anything they had ever seen. It darted across the sky, leaving a trail of shimmering light in its wake.

"What is that?" one raider shouted, his voice barely audible over the wind.

"What the hell is that!?"

"I don't know!" another replied, his dragon banking sharply to follow the mysterious object. "But it's fast—too fast!"

The raiders gave chase, their dragons straining to keep up. But the object was impossibly quick, weaving through the clouds with ease. It was unlike anything they had ever encountered—a bird, perhaps, but no bird could move at such speeds.

"It's at least 100 kilometres faster than us!" one raider exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief.

"But it looked like a bird," another said, his tone uneasy. "How can a bird be so fast?"

The raiders exchanged uneasy glances. Whatever it was, it was no ordinary creature. And if it was a scout for the enemy, they were in more trouble than they realized.
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Far from the Latvian fleet, aboard the aircraft carrier Yorktown, Admiral Akari studied a series of photographs spread across his desk. The images, taken by high-altitude reconnaissance planes, showed the Latvian fleet in stunning detail. The LNS Caspian, with its massive hull and towering decks, was unmistakable.

Akari, the commander of the Bernard Empire's Second Fleet. Known for his tactical brilliance and unyielding determination, he had been tasked with neutralizing the Latvian threat. The stakes were high—the fate of the North Ocean, and perhaps the entire war, hung in the balance.

"Sir," one of his officers said, entering the room with a crisp salute. "We've located the Latvian fleet."

Akari nodded, his expression grim. "Good. Prepare our ships to move in that direction. And ready the planes—we'll hit them with everything we've got."