Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me

His grip loosens on his sword. A bitter realization settles in his chest.

”Can I even reach that level…?” he mutters under his breath.

Elaine glances at him, but she has no answer. No one does.

Then—

The smoke shifts.

A gust of wind rushes through the battlefield, parting the thick haze of destruction.

And there, standing at the center of the devastation, is Varkas.

He’s alive.

His massive frame is hunched forward, his claws dug into the scorched ground to keep himself upright. His fur, once pristine, is now singed and tattered. Blood drips from countless wounds, staining the cracked earth beneath him. His breathing is labored, his chest rising and falling in heavy, ragged motions.

But his golden eyes burn brighter than ever.

”That…” Varkas exhales, then grins, sharp and wild. ”That almost got me.”

He straightens slowly, the faint tremble in his limbs betraying the toll the spell has taken. His muscles pulse with residual energy, the lingering effects of the buffs he activated just in time.

His Tier 4 reinforcement buffs.

His singular Tier 5 enhancement.

And—most crucially—his bloodline’s Tier 5 skill.

His body has changed.

His once-dark fur now bears streaks of silver, crackling faintly with latent energy. His claws, longer and sharper, shimmer with a faint, unnatural glow. The air around him feels heavier—denser. More than just a beast. More than just a warrior.

He breathes in deeply, the scent of scorched earth filling his lungs. Then he exhales, rolling his shoulders.

”That spell… Something only a level 560+ being could conjure, and it’s fucking hurt getting hit by it.” Varkas thought.

Walric watches, a cold pit forming in his stomach. Even after all of that—even after facing the full might of a Tier 5 annihilation spell—Varkas is still standing.

Not unscathed.

But alive.

And worse—he looks excited.

Elaine grips her sword tightly, her knuckles white. ”That thing… just what is he?”

No one answers.

Because at this moment, they all feel it.

The difference.

The gap between them and Varkas.

Varkas clenches his fists, his claws digging into his own palms. His entire body trembles—not from pain, but from rage.

He made a promise.

A simple promise.

”I will not put myself in danger.”

His Majesty had ordered him. And yet, here he is—battered, burned, bloodied. By a bunch of humans who weren’t even Tier 5.

His fury boils over.

And then—he vanishes.

A blur of motion. Faster than sight. Faster than thought.

Before anyone can react—

Shunk.

Selian’s head rolls across the scorched ground. His body remains standing for a fraction of a second before crumpling.

Silence.

Elaine lets out a strangled gasp. Jupus’s eyes widen in horror. Orin stumbles back.

Then—

Shunk.

Jupus doesn’t even have time to scream before his body is cleaved in two.

Orin also died in seconds.

Three generals. Dead.

Just like that.

The battlefield stands frozen, every soldier paralyzed by sheer terror.

And then—

”STOP, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!”

Marshal Walric’s roar cuts through the silence. He charges, sword raised, desperation and fury in his eyes.

Varkas barely spares him a glance.

With a flick of his wrist, his clawed hand swings.

BOOM.

Walric is sent flying. His body slams into the ruined stone wall of a half-destroyed building, the impact loud enough to crack bone.

He crumples to the ground, coughing blood. His entire body screams in agony.

Walric forces himself to move, pushing through the agony. Every breath feels like fire in his lungs, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t.

Not now.

Not when the entire battlefield is crumbling into despair.

With blood dripping from his lips, he lifts his head and roars—

”RETREAT!!!”

His voice echoes across the ruins, raw and desperate.

”ALL UNITS, FALL BACK! NOW!”

Soldiers snap out of their frozen terror. The moment the order registers, chaos erupts. Boots slam against shattered stone, armor clanks as they turn and flee, scrambling over debris and bodies alike.

Elaine hesitates, her trembling hands gripping her sword. ”Walric—!”

”GO!” he snarls, eyes locked onto the towering figure in front of him.

Varkas watches, eyes flickering with amusement as the army scatters.

”They run well,” he muses. Then he turns his gaze back to Walric, tilting his head. ”But, you won’t run?”

Walric plants his feet, his entire body pulsing with golden light.

Every buff he has. Every ounce of strength he can squeeze from his battered frame.

A last stand.

Even if it’s just for seconds.

He knows he can’t win.

But if he can hold enemy down, if he can give them time—

That will be enough.

He grips his sword with both hands, the runes along the blade igniting with violent energy.

”You…” he spits blood onto the ground. ”You’re not getting past me.”

Varkas watches him for a moment, head slightly tilted, as if trying to understand the sheer stubbornness in front of him.

Then, he exhales through his nose. His massive shoulders relax just a fraction, the tension in his claws easing.

His eyes glint in the flickering light of the battlefield. ”Since you’re so determined…”

He takes a step forward. The ground beneath his foot cracks.

”I’ll kill you in one swift move.”

Walric grits his teeth, every muscle in his body coiled tight. His aura flares violently, golden energy wrapping around his battered form like a final, desperate shield. His mind is racing, searching for anything—any opening, any chance—

But Varkas moves first.

Faster than thought.

A blur.

And then—

The world tilts.

Walric doesn’t feel pain at first. Just a sudden, terrifying lightness.

Then—

A wet thud.

His body collapses to the ground.

But his head…

His vision spins, and he sees it—the battlefield, the retreating soldiers, Elaine screaming his name—

And then, darkness.

As the dust settles from Varkas’s final strike, a figure appears beside him—swift and silent. Her gaze assessing the scene. Her eyes linger on the smoldering battlefield, the scattered corpses, and the lingering remnants of the Tier 5 annihilation spell.

”General,” Sorin speaks evenly, her voice sharp yet composed. ”I saw that spell from the Mage Tower. I didn’t think it would actually push you this far.”