Reincarnated with the Country System

Alberto's jaw clenched.

(Damn! I spent three billion SC buying this skill and now it doesn't work properly. It feels like necromancy to me.)

He narrowed his eyes, gaze flicking to the corpse of the officer—the one who'd been drained like fruit left out in the sun. That wasn't divine. That wasn't holy. That was black-magic, rot-slick necromancy if he'd ever seen it.

And he had.

In the war, back on Earth.

Berlin, '45. That bunker. That damned ritual. The things the Nazis tried in desperation—

He forced the memory back into its grave. Not now.

The silence around him trembled.

Then came the sound:

★ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ★

NEW FEATURE UNLOCKED: DIVINE INTERFACE

You have unlocked communication with Lesser Gods and Celestial Beings. This feature is reserved for users who have achieved access to Divine-Class Skills.

Skill Verification: [RESURRECTION] – SSS+ Rank confirmed.

Initializing Divine Interface…

Alberto didn't even flinch as reality seemed to shiver around him, like something massive shifting just out of sight. The air warped, heavy and electric, as if the gods were listening now. A low hum began in the bones of the chamber, deeper than any human voice—like the grinding of celestial gears.

Another notification chimed, this one slower, more ancient.

Would you like to summon a Celestial Conduit?

► YES

► NO

Alberto didn't hesitate.

"Yes," he growled.

The moment the word left his lips, the world tilted.

The torches went out again—not from darkness, but from light.

A light that bled gold. White-hot. Divine. It poured from nowhere and everywhere, illuminating the chamber in a way that made shadows shrink and truths swell.

The kneeling creature let out a screech, jerking back like it had been stabbed by light itself. Smoke hissed off its body. Its black eyes boiled.

Alberto stepped forward, arms out, eyes up. "I command this realm. I summon the Celestial."

The ceiling cracked.

A voice—if you could call it that—rumbled down like thunder mating with velvet.

"WHO CALLS THE DIVINE?"

The sound struck everyone to their knees. One of the ISSD officers whimpered, blood leaking from his nose. Another dropped his rifle and began to weep like a child.

Alberto stood firm, though his legs trembled. Not in fear—he refused that—but in awe.

"I am Alberto," he said, each syllable pulled from the furnace of his soul. "Emperor of the Bernard Empire. Chosen of the Guardian. Master of System."

Silence.

Then—

Laughter.

Rich. Deep. Shaking the stone itself.

"A mortal dares buy the power of gods… and does not understand the price."

Alberto's fists clenched. "Then explain it. If I paid three billion SC for a goddamn skill, I want every damn coin to count."

A shape coalesced in the light. Not a form—not truly. More like the suggestion of form. Wings without feathers. A crown without a head. Eyes without sockets.

The Conduit had arrived.

"You have opened a forbidden gate, Emperor. Resurrection is not a gift—it is a gamble."

"I don't care if it's cursed. I didn't resurrect a demon. I used the system. If there's a problem, fix it."

"It is fixed. It obeys. You made it kneel. That is more than most."

Alberto glanced at the creature again. It was crumpled, hissing quietly, skin still steaming from the divine radiance. And yet… it grinned.

He turned back. "So what is it? That thing. Why did my Resurrection spit that out?"

"Because the one you raised… was not ready."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"A soul untethered. Broken. Its spirit had no shape. You pulled it back before the gods could cleanse it. Before its sins were weighed. You forced it into a vessel it could no longer hold."

Alberto's breath stilled.

"…So this is my fault?"

"No. This is your power."

The voice softened. Shifted. Grew… closer.

"You have been given the means to cheat death. But death is not a door. It is a contract. Every soul you bring back must be accounted for. You cannot resurrect without consequence."

Alberto's mouth was dry. But still, he pressed on. "Then what do I do with it?"

The Conduit pulsed. "You bind it. You tame it. Or you let it go."

Let it go. Kill it. That option again.

His gaze slid back to the creature, still kneeling, still humming that lullaby.

His mother's voice.

His jaw tightened. "No. I own it. It will serve."

"Then mark it. Seal it. Claim it as your Thrall. But know this, Emperor—every Thrall you take will stain you. Bit by bit. Soul by soul. Until even gods question what you've become."

Alberto stared at the Conduit, his voice now low. Dangerous. "I didn't come to this world to play by your rules."

The Conduit's light shimmered. Amusement? Disapproval? It was hard to tell with beings that didn't wear faces.

"Then make new ones, Emperor. But tread carefully. For the road of gods is slick with mortal blood."

And with that, the Conduit snapped out of existence—vanishing in a sharp, crystalline crack that echoed through the chamber like a divine gunshot.

The torches reignited. The silence that followed wasn't peaceful. It was shaken.

Alberto turned slowly, surveying the officers.

The scarred one stepped forward again. "Your Majesty… we can't keep that thing alive. It's wrong. Unclean."

"I know what it is," Alberto snapped. "It's mine."

He raised his hand.

The System flared again.

Would you like to bind this entity as a Divine Thrall?

Warning: Binding corrupted souls may carry unpredictable effects.

► YES

► NO

His finger hovered.

He remembered the war. The men he couldn't save. The ones he could have. The ones he would, now.

Three billion SC wasn't spent on nothing.

"Yes."

The chamber groaned.

The creature screamed.

Not in pain—but in pleasure. In freedom. In release. The System symbols flared across its flesh—white sigils carved by light, branding it in places where the skin still looked vaguely human.

It collapsed.

And when it rose…

It bowed.

No tricks. No mocking grin.

Just… servitude.

"Speak," Alberto commanded.

Its voice was ragged, scraped through a throat not made for words. "I live… to serve."

The officers backed up. One actually vomited in the corner.

Alberto looked to the System.

Another notification appeared:

[Divine Interface: ACTIVE]

Current Connection: Dormant Lesser Gods: 1

Divine Thralls: 1 / ???

He stared at the screen. The possibilities.

Holy power. Demon thralls. Celestial channels. Resurrection. War.

His empire had guns. Ships. Artillery.

Now it had godfire.

He let out a long, slow breath.

Alberto didn't smile.

He didn't need to.

Because somewhere deep in the stars… the gods were watching.

And for the first time—

They were watching him