Over the next four decades, Bligujibuji slowly swelled into a modest settlement. Several smaller groups of Liechtensteinians trickled into the area, as did a group of Basques, whose descendants still live on today as the Feral Basques of South Bligujibuji. But in 1776, a fateful day came: the thirteen colonies declared their independence from Great Britain. Filled with the spirit of independence and democracy, Bligujibuji quickly dispatched a representative, Ragnar Olano, to the Second Continental Congress. At first he was turned away, because he spoke only poor English and wore a large, offputting hat. After the misunderstanding was cleared up, he was turned away a second time, because Bligujibuji was not one of the British colonies. Not to be deterred, Olano eventually found his place in the Continental Congress, often hiding behind Nathaniel Folsom of New Hampshire and throwing his voice to make it seem as if his suggestions had come from another part of the room.
But Bligujibuji's role in the war was far from solely political. Every able-bodied man raised the money for his own uniform, gun, and horse. If they had no money, they borrowed it. If they could not get a loan, they would instead carve one or all of these items out of wood. The brave men of the First Bligujibujian Irregulars thus rode forth from St. Luther, down to the distant coast. There they came upon an imposing British encampment. But amazingly, in what is called "The Miracle of '77" by Bligujibujians to this day, the entire encampment was asleep! No night guards had been posted, and few fires were lit. With a vicious roar, the Bligujibujian force seized the moment and rode into the breech. The battle was pitched, and raged for two days and two nights. But on the third day, the Bligujibujian force was victorious. At was at this point the Bligujibujians realized that the encampment was, in fact, Conway, South Carolina.
This is the origin of the Bligujibuji-South Carolina rivalry.
Embarassed, the Bligujibujians sought an excuse. A panicked and informal council settled on a desperate gambit. One of the Bligujibujian soldiers placed his wooden hat upon a local duck. The duck, they insisted, was the one who REALLY had caused all the trouble. They had just tried to stop it. You probably couldn't tell in the dark. Because ducks are so small. The Bligujibujian force then quickly jumped on their horses, declared that there was no need to thank them, and rode back to St. Luther. The Continental Congress discussed sanctions against Bligujibuji for these events, or even extending a declaration of war to the tiny region, but a persuasive voice seemingly coming from a distant, unoccupied corner convinced the Congress to forgo any such actions.
It is for these proud actions that Bligujibujians still call their state "The 14th Colony".