Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me

The distortion around his face flares like black flame.

”Under me, you will gain what the humans have kept from you.”

The armies lean forward unconsciously, hearts pounding.

”Access to teleportation portals.”

”Access to the resources they hoard for themselves.”

Some monsters suck in a breath.

Others tremble.

Even Vordon feels his blood heat with anticipation.

Alix’s voice deepens—not loud, but absolute.

”We will take land.”

”We will build a stronghold.”

”And we will stand our ground on this continent—openly, proudly, and without fear of human blades.”

The words roll through the army like thunder.

A few monsters begin to shout in excitement—

But Alix is not done.

”We march not to destroy… but to claim our rightful place.”

The shadows swirling around his silhouette expand, forming the shape of a colossal godlike being behind him.

Gasps spread through the army.

Alix points forward—toward the distant plains leading to human territory.

”March with me.”

His voice reverberates like a divine command.

”And I will carve a path that no human dares to block.”

A final, crushing wave of aura descends.

”From this day forward… monsters will no longer kneel in this continent.”

Silence hangs for a heartbeat.

Then—

ROOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRR!!!!

Tens of thousands roar at once.

The ground shakes violently.

Weapons clash.

Wings flap.

Mana flares in the sky.

The armies erupt into frenzy.

The roar of the armies still echoes faintly outside when Alix steps back from the balcony. The moment he enters the mansion, the heavy wooden doors close behind him, shutting out the noise and leaving only a deep, humming silence.

He walks down the corridor until he reaches a private reception chamber. The room is spacious, lit by floating crystals, the walls decorated with ancient monster scripts and old war banners. A long table sits in the center, untouched.

Alix takes the seat at the head.

Zevran stands at his back, silent and alert. Mero by the window, watching the city below with mild boredom.

He doesn’t wait long.

Heavy footsteps echo from the hallway—three sets, each carrying the weight of powerful monsters suppressing their aura out of respect.

Then the door opens.

Three imposing figures step inside.

A towering minotaur with dark, bronze hide. His horns are polished and his armor strapped tightly across his chest. His aura flickers like a controlled wildfire.

City Lord Ruk, High-Level Tier 6.

Beside him walks a tall insectoid woman with four arms, her chitin gleaming emerald and black. Her eyes are cold, calculating, yet respectful.

City Lord Erel’na, High-Level Tier 6.

The third is a tiger beastman—white fur, blue stripes and sharp cold eyes. His movements are fluid, dangerously quiet for someone so large.

City Lord Varesh, High-Level Tier 6.

The moment they fully enter the room, all three drop to one knee at once.

Their heads lower.

Their bodies bow deeply.

And their voices echo together, powerful yet reverent.

”My lord,” they say, ”we greet the supreme one who commands this alliance.”

Alix said. ”Stand.”

They rise, but their posture remains tight, respectful.

Ruk speaks first, voice deep.

”My king… your display yesterday shook our cities. Even the Emperor Beast feared you. We would be fools not to answer your call.”

Erel’na bows her head slightly.

”Our soldiers march with full loyalty. If you command us to push into human lands, we will do so without hesitation.”

Varesh crosses his arm over his chest.

”Kingdom of Alnera’s walls are strong. They have many powerhouse. But with you here… we will fear nothing.”

Alix studies them.

Their confidence is real.

Their loyalty earned naturally, not forced.

Their fear of him is mixed with genuine hope.

He nods once. ”Good. I expect full cooperation. We’re not marching blindly, we’re building something permanent. And for that, I need leaders who don’t break when pressure hits.”

Ruk thumps a fist over his chest. ”We will not break.”

Erel’na flicks her lower arms in a respectful gesture. ”Our armies await your command.”

Varesh steps forward slightly. ”And Vordon… he speaks of you as if you were a force beyond the sky. He says this alliance will change the fate of monsters in this continent.”

Alix lets out a quiet breath. ”Then let’s make sure it does.”

The three city lords exchange brief glances—part awe, part determination.

Alix rises from his seat.

”Today,” he says, ”we march toward human territory.”

The air thickens with tension.

---

Nam City’s lord mansion is loud with laughter, perfume, and the muffled rustling of silk sheets.

City Lord Mol, a plump man with greasy cheeks and gold rings stacked on every finger, lies sprawled on a massive bed. Three concubines cling to him—one feeding him grapes, another massaging his shoulders, the third whispering flattery into his ear.

Mol wiggles his eyebrows proudly.

”Hahaha! This is life! This is how a city lord should live! Not worrying about anything—”

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

The atmosphere freezes.

The concubine feeding him grapes stops mid-motion.

Mol’s expression twists instantly into rage.

”WHO IS IT?!” he roars, spittle flying. ”If you aren’t dying, I’ll MAKE you die!”

A firm voice answers through the door.

”My lord. It is I—General Du. I have urgent matters to report.”

Mol groans loudly and pushes one concubine aside. ”Damn it! Even at night?!” He yanks on a thin robe to cover his belly and stomps toward the door.

He flings it open.

Standing in the hallway is General Du, the strongest combatant in Nam City—a hardened low-level Tier 6 warrior, tall and sharp-eyed. His armor still carries dust and sweat from patrol.

Du bows stiffly. ”My lord. I apologize for disturbing you, but the matter is serious.”

Mol squints irritably. ”This better be worth ruining my relaxation.”

General Du’s tone stays calm. ”I received reports from multiple scouts. Sona City is preparing to move an army… toward us.”

Mol blinks once.

Then his face twists—and he erupts with laughter.

”BWHAHAHAHAHA!”

He slaps his belly, wheezing.

The concubines peek from behind him, confused.

General Du waits.

Mol finally wipes a tear from his eye.

”You spoil my fun because of THAT nonsense?! Sona City? Attacking US?!”

His voice rises in mock disbelief.

”You think those filthy ANIMALS will march here?! You think they dare?!”

He points a stubby finger at Du’s chest.

”Du, Du… I know you’re strong, but you’re too paranoid. Monsters are terrified of us. TERRIFIED!”

He waves his arms dramatically, his robe nearly slipping off.

”Even if every monster city in that wilderness combines their forces, they’re NOTHING but ants before the kingdom!”

General Du clenches his jaw so tightly a vein stands out on his neck.

He inhales slowly — forcing his anger down.

”My lord,” Du begins again, voice strained but controlled, ”but… it’s thou—”

Mol cuts him off immediately, raising a fat hand.

”Okay, STOP.”

His tone is flat, irritated.

”I said I’m busy right now.”

General Du stares for a moment.

Before he can speak again—

SLAM.

Mol shuts the door in his face, nearly hitting Du’s nose.

From the other side, Mol’s muffled voice spits out a low insult.

”Useless piece of shit…”

The concubines giggle, resuming their places on the bed as if nothing happened.

Mol waddles back inside. ”Honestly… ruining my night for monster gossip? Pathetic.”

Meanwhile, General Du remains frozen in the dim hallway.

For a moment, his expression is dark — dangerously dark.

He exhales heavily through his nose, straighten himself, and marches away.

----

The monster alliance marches through the wilderness like a moving storm, their footsteps pounding a rhythm against the earth. Night has already settled, painting the plains in cold moonlight by the time the first outline of Nam City’s walls appears in the distance.

The city is unnervingly quiet.

Too quiet.

Vordon walks at the front of the army, eyes narrowed. Behind him, Ruk, Erel’na, and Varesh exchange wary looks.

A soft hum vibrates inside the carriage at the very back of the formation as Alix lifts a hand, aura spreading outward like an invisible tidal wave.

Zevran watches him.

Mero raises a brow.

Alix’s eyes narrow.

”…Empty,” he mutters.

Zevran tilts his head. ”Empty?”

”There are soldiers on the walls,” Alix says calmly, ”but only a few. And the number of citizens… barely a fraction of what a city like this should have.”

He taps the armrest once, thoughtful.

”But what’s stranger—” His voice lowers. ”I don’t sense a single Tier 6.”

Mero straightens at that. ”None? Not even hidden?”

”None,” Alix repeats. ”It’s like they moved their elites somewhere else.”

Zevran murmurs, ”Or they fled.”