Reincarnated with the Country System

In her cabin that night, Elina couldn't sleep.

The room was small but comfortable. A bed with smooth gray sheets. A desk with a touch-panel screen. A small window with a black curtain she hadn't yet pulled shut. It wasn't luxurious, but it was efficient in the Bernardian style—minimal and precise.

She sat at the desk, opening a file on her university tablet. Her courses: Foundations of Astro-Logic, Comparative Governance, and Human Identity in a Post-Mythical Age. Heavy reading, even for someone like Elina Vi Britannia.

But this was different. It wasn't a dream or theory. It was real. And it was fast.

♦♦♦

Elina awoke not to sunlight through her cabin window—but to a soft chime and a glowing panel beside her bed that read:

"0600 Hours. Rise and Hydrate."

She rubbed her eyes. The air smelled faintly sterile—like clean metal and filtered water. Outside the small window, nothing but open sea met her gaze. No gulls, no sails, no coast. Just dark blue, endless and unmoving.

There were no bells here, no stable boys shouting. Just the hum of the Edelra's engines and the low pulse of light from corridor strips.

She sat up slowly, blinked twice, then reached for her clothes.

Her uniform—gray with dark green trim—had been issued yesterday, tailored to her size through some Bernardian measuring device she still didn't understand. Soft, efficient, breathable. It was like wearing nothing at all.

She tied her hair back and stepped into the corridor.

The ship was awake but quiet. Students moved in silence, some alone, others in small groups. Many still looked lost. A few were talking softly in Britannian tongues. One boy stood tapping the glass wall, trying to figure out how it worked. No one laughed. Everyone was trying.

They followed the glowing blue line toward Deck B.

.....

The auditorium was massive and bright in an unnatural way. No torches, no lamps. Just light—cold, white, perfect—from above.

There were over a hundred seats arranged in a circular pattern, most of them filled. Britannians, Latvians, Jimlandes, even two people from Amazonia. All young, between seventeen and twenty, hand-picked from their nations.

The stage at the center lowered slightly, and a Bernardian man in a black coat stepped into view. He was tall, clean-shaven, with silver-gray hair and sharp eyes behind clear glasses.

He looked like no professor Elina had ever known.

He tapped something on his tablet, and a large holographic map appeared behind him—hovering midair, rotating slowly.

"Welcome to Orientation," he said, in perfect Common. "I am Dr. Cain Veldt. Academic Officer of International Exchange under the Bernardian Knowledge Corps."

A pause.

"You have been chosen. That means something. It means you are not here as curiosities from collapsing kingdoms. You are not charity."

Several students straightened. Some exchanged glances.

"You are potential partners. Perhaps future rivals. So let me be clear."

He tapped again. The map zoomed in. It showed a continent—then another. The Bernard Empire spanned most of the second.

"You are aboard the Edelra, a mid-range academic cruiser built for stability, speed, and safety. We are en route to Nova Albion—a special island for cultural and academic exchange. Your education begins there."

Another tap. A chart now. Subjects, schedules, technical data. No magic. Just modules, weeks, expectations.

"Your curriculum includes Bernardian history, ethics, planetary sciences, energy systems, and comparative governance. Each module lasts two weeks. Your results will be evaluated regularly. If you pass—you may continue. If you fail—you will be returned home."

He looked around. "If you break rules, you will be removed. If you succeed..."

A pause.

"You may have a future in our world."

.....

After the session, Elina sat in a smaller side room with Mirell, Garven, and a few others. They were given devices called "Lexboards"—thin slates with glowing panels.

Mirell whispered, "This is heavier than a spellbook."

"It's called a tablet," said a Bernardian assistant gently. "You will use it to write, research, and communicate. It does not require ink or paper."

Garven grunted. "And if I want to sketch?"

The assistant smiled. "Use your fingers."

Garven looked horrified.

But when he tried it—traced a line across the surface, watched as it left glowing red ink behind—his eyes widened.

"That's... sorcery."

"No," the assistant said. "Just pressure-sensitive input. Welcome to the new age."

....

In the afternoon, the students were given their first free period. Some explored the ship, while others returned to their cabins.

Elina walked alone through Deck A's observation ring—a long, curved hallway that wrapped around the upper level of the Edelra's forward hull. Its outer wall was made of reinforced transparisteel, clear as glass but stronger than iron. Beyond it stretched the ocean.

The corridor was almost quiet, except for the distant hum of the ship's engines and the occasional footsteps of passing students. Elina barely noticed them. She moved slowly, her eyes drawn to the impossible vastness outside.

Eventually, she stopped before one of the larger viewports—a great circular window.

Below her, several sleek drones swam beneath the Edelra, lights glowing from their heads. Maintenance units, scanning the depths.

And farther out, near the edges of visibility—strange shadows.

Large. Slow-moving. Sea monsters.

She leaned closer.

"They don't attack the ship," came a voice. She turned to see Officer Irena Voss standing beside her.

"Why not?" Elina asked.

"They're used to us. We've passed through their territory for years now."

Elina watched a distant creature swim in lazy circles. Its shape was serpentine, but its eyes glowed like embers.

"It's hard to believe something like that exists."

"That's what most say," Irena nodded. "But down here, in the deep, belief doesn't matter. Only understanding does."

She turned to Elina. "And that's why you're here. To learn what your world never taught you."

A pause.

"We don't fear monsters. We fear ignorance. You want to be part of the Bernardian world? Then start asking better questions."

She stepped away, her boots clicking softly against the corridor floor. "Observe. Analyze. Learn. That's how you survive—whether in politics, in science... or down there."

Then she turned and walked away.

Elina stood a while longer.

The sea monsters drifted far below, their forms distant but unmistakable. And she realized something strange.

She wasn't afraid.

She was... curious.