Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me

Later that day.

Alix doesn’t return to Blackfall.

Instead, his carriage turns north, streaking across the sky toward the heart of his kingdom—Noctaris City.

The capital rises like obsidian flame from the land, dark spires crowned with glimmering wards, cascading waterfalls flowing from floating islands, and banners bearing Alix’s crest billowing in the wind. At its core, the grand palace looms, its towers scraping the clouds.

Hours later, the palace gates open.

Servants bow low, but Alix says nothing. He moves through the halls in silence, each step echoing against polished stone and golden fixtures. Draya follows for a time, but at the throne room’s entrance, Alix waves her off.

She stops, bows quietly, and says, ”I’ll have tea ready when you’re done, Your Majesty.”

The massive doors shut behind him.

He stands alone in the vast throne chamber. Sunlight filters through the skylight above the throne, casting long, broken shadows along the floor. And then—

shimmer

A transparent screen floats into view, golden text flickering faintly across its surface. His status. His wealth. His resources.

Alix leans against the throne and narrows his eyes as numbers scroll into focus.

Gold: 12,000,000 → 9,000,000

Three million already gone. Given to Thano for Ashlight’s reconstruction.

He exhales through his nose. Slowly, he lowers himself into the throne, elbows resting on the armrests, hands steepled.

”Revive the army…” he murmurs. ”Or revive my subordinates.”

His voice echoes quietly in the empty chamber.

Alix exhales and shifts his gaze.

”Let’s see what I’m working with.”

He flicks his fingers across the air, and the transparent interface shifts. Lines of gold-etched text scroll downward. A new tab pulses faintly—[Legion Interference].

He taps it.

The air grows heavier as the [Legion Interference] tab opens fully, the floating screen reshaping into a wide panel of glowing banners, ancient crests, and dormant sigils. Each insignia pulses faintly—remnants of loyalty bound in blood, magic, and bone.

Alix straightens in his throne, his gaze steady.

”Show me their states.”

The interface responds.

[Legion Overview — Status: Dormant]

Revival Options Available: 5

Funds Remaining: 9,000,000 Gold

One by one, the banners unfurl.

[The Ashen Fangs]

Crest: A cracked dragon’s tooth wreathed in smoke and flame.

”They were the destroyers,” Alix murmurs. ”Draconics, wyvernspawn, and molten hounds.”

The Ashen Fangs were a legion of elemental warbeasts—half-born from dragonkin bloodlines, firebound entities, and volcanic creatures. Their purpose: pure offense. Cities fell in hours when the Ashen Fangs flew.

Revival Cost per Soldier: 100,000 gold

Max Possible Revives: 90 soldiers

Alix frowns. ”Too few. Even ninety of them could destroy a fortress… but not hold it.”

[The Gravehollow Brood]

Crest: A black centipede coiled around a skeletal ribcage.

”Burrowers,” he says. ”Undead insects, tomb beasts, hive spawn.”

The Brood specialized in ambushes and overwhelming numbers. They struck from underground, from ruin, from silence. The Gravehollow Brood didn’t march—they infested.

Revival Cost per Soldier: 75,000 gold

Max Possible Revives: 120 soldiers

[The Ironclad Vanguard]

Crest: A steel-plated shield with a clenched fist at its center.

”Living armor,” Alix mutters. ”Steelborn juggernauts, ironblood orcs, forgebound.”

The Ironclad Vanguard were humanoids fused with metal—walking fortresses with reinforced limbs and steel-carved skin. Their discipline and defense were unmatched, pushing through enemy lines with crushing force.

Revival Cost per Soldier: 60,000 gold

Max Possible Revives: 150 soldiers

[The Emberfang Legion]

Crest: A roaring flame entwined with a jagged fang.

”Fireborn,” Alix says. ”Ifrit, ember devils, ashborn berserkers.”

The Emberfang Legion was a force of humanoid flame-wielders. They wielded molten weapons, cloaked in living fire, their strikes scorching and their presence smoldering. They thrived in chaos, overwhelming enemies with relentless, fiery assaults.

Revival Cost per Soldier: 40,000 gold

Max Possible Revives: 225 soldiers

[The Bonepiercers]

Crest: A trident through a cracked skull, draped in faded crimson.

Alix’s gaze lingers.

”My first legion.”

The Bonepiercers were skeletal brutes, wights, carrion ogres, and marrow hounds—undying, unyielding, unrelenting. They didn’t break formation. They didn’t panic. They simply obeyed.

Revival Cost per Soldier: 2000 gold

Max Possible Revives: 4,500 soldiers

”Loyal to the end,” he whispers. ”And still the only ones I can revive in great numbers.”

The system chimes softly, offering a final screen:

[You may revive one full legion or divide resources across multiple. Choose carefully. Remaining funds: 9,000,000 gold.]

Alix leans back, fingers steepled.

”If I take ninety Ashen Fangs… he doubt that the high level ones that will get revive.”

His fingers tap against the throne arm.

”If I take Bonepiercers… ten thousand strong. Not flashy. But they’ll be enough for Valgros kingdom.”

A long pause.

Then—he nods.

----

Alix stands at the edge of the Legion Revival Grounds, a secluded area within Noctaris City known only to him and a select few. The air is thick with the scent of ancient incense and the faint hum of latent magic. Around him, banners of his legions flutter in the breeze, each representing a formidable force he once commanded. The ground beneath his feet is etched with runes, glowing faintly, marking the sacred space where his legions can be resurrected.

He walks with purpose, his eyes scanning the banners until they settle on the one he seeks: The Bonepiercers. The banner depicts a cracked skull pierced by a trident, draped in faded crimson. Memories of battles fought and victories won flood his mind. These were his first legion, loyal and unyielding.

Approaching the banner, Alix raises his hand, and the air shifts. A translucent interface materializes before him, displaying the revival options for the Bonepiercers.

Legion Revival: Bonepiercers

Revival Cost per Soldier: 2000 gold

Max Possible Revives: 4,500 soldiers

Funds Remaining: 9,000,000 gold

Alix’s gaze hardens. With his remaining funds, he can revive the full strength of the Bonepiercers. He doesn’t hesitate. The decision is made.

He speaks the command aloud, his voice steady and commanding.

Alix: ”Revive the Bonepiercers.”

The ground trembles as the magic takes hold. From the earth, skeletal warriors begin to emerge, their bones clattering as they form ranks. Alongside them, wights clad in tattered armor, carrion ogres with hollow eyes, and marrow hounds with glowing fangs rise from the soil. They stand in perfect formation, awaiting their master’s command.

Alix surveys the assembled legion, a sense of pride swelling within him. These were his first soldiers, his most loyal. They had fought beside him in countless battles, and now, they would stand with him once more.

He raises his hand, and the legion bows in unison.

”Rise, my Bonepiercers. The kingdom calls upon you once again.”

With a unified roar, the legion springs to life, ready to serve their master in the battles to come.

The ground trembles as the last of the Bonepiercers rise, their skeletal forms adorned with ancient armor and weapons. Each soldier stands at attention, their hollow eyes glowing with a faint blue light. Alix surveys the legion, noting the uniformity and discipline that has not diminished over time. All are Tier 4, as expected. He had forged this legion during his time as a Tier 6, and while the most powerful among them remain dormant, the strength of these warriors is undeniable.

He turns, the banner of the Bonepiercers unfurling behind him, and begins the march out of the revival grounds. The legion follows in perfect formation, their footsteps synchronized, creating a rhythmic cadence that echoes through the city streets.

As they enter the heart of Noctaris City, the soldiers pause in their activities, eyes widening at the sight before them. The Bonepiercers, one of the legendary legions of his majesty.

A soldier, just got out of training, nudges his comrade.

”Is that... the Bonepiercers?” he whispers, awe evident in his voice.

His companion nods slowly, eyes fixed on the marching legion.

”I heard stories about them,” he murmurs. ”Never thought I’d see them with my own eyes.”

As the Bonepiercers march through the streets of Noctaris City, their disciplined formation draw awe and reverence from the onlookers. Many of the soldiers, originating from other cities within Alix’s kingdom in the game, have only heard tales of these legendary warriors. Now, witnessing them firsthand, the atmosphere is thick with a mix of fear and admiration.

Alix steps out of the carriage, his boots clicking softly against the marble steps. The Bonepiercers remain in formation, a silent and imposing presence behind him. As his gaze scans the scene, his attention is drawn to General Gorath standing at the top of the steps, waiting with his customary stoicism.

The general, clad in his dark steel armor, stands like a monument to strength and discipline. As Alix’s gaze meets his, Gorath immediately kneels, lowering his head in deep respect.

”Your Majesty,” Gorath says, his voice firm but laced with reverence.

Alix’s eyes flicker toward the formation of Bonepiercers standing behind him.

Gorath rises from his kneel, his eyes scanning the ranks of the Bonepiercers behind Alix. The warriors stand motionless, their hollow eyes glowing faintly, a testament to their unwavering loyalty.

Gorath said, ”Congratulations on reviving the Bonepiercers legion, Your Majesty.”

Alix nodded, his gaze steady. ”The reason I summoned you is to entrust you with their command. I want you to lead the Bonepiercers and march into the Valgros Kingdom.”

Gorath’s expression remains stoic, but a glint of determination flickers in his eyes.

”It will be done, your majesty. The Bonepiercers will bring Valgros to its knees.”

”Good. Prepare them for departure.”

As Gorath turns to relay the orders, the Bonepiercers respond in unison, their formation shifting with mechanical precision.

The soldiers watch in awe as the legendary legion, prepares to march once more under the command of their unwavering king.