Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me

Behind him, one of the Ember Claw soldiers gasps. "That's… that thing's its aura is stronger than commander Lathar."

Another said under their breath. "Commander—"

Alix steps forward once. His voice cuts through the tension.

"Stay down."

The beast lets out a guttural roar. Trees bend. Some snap clean. Mana crackles like a stormcloud around its frame.

Alix exhales softly. His sword is still at his side, point down.

He doesn't draw it fully this time.

He doesn't need to.

Mana gathers at his fingertips—dark and radiant, hot and cold, two opposing forces spiraling together in tight orbit.

He murmurs, barely audible.

"[Crimson Nova]…"

His other hand rises, palm facing forward. Frost clings to his wrist, spreading upward in jagged patterns.

"…[Frost Rend]."

The air goes still.

Then everything moves at once.

He slams his palms together.

The resulting explosion is soundless for a breathless instant—light and shadow twisting around one another. Then a detonation rips through the battlefield with a boom so loud it sends shockwaves rippling outward, flattening the trees, the rocks, the world itself for a hundred meters in every direction.

Fire and ice combine in a spiraling vortex that swallows the peak Tier 5 beast whole. It thrashes, howling, but the magic grips tighter—flesh boiling and freezing simultaneously, armor plates cracking, splitting, melting.

Then—

BOOM.

A second shockwave rips through the sky. The containment dome surrounding the battlefiel, reinforced to withstand an attack of a multiple tier 5, shatters like glass.

Cracks splinter through the sky itself. The magic barrier groans—and collapses.

Outside, Ember Claw forces and Astram alike look up as the glowing dome ruptures overhead.

"What the hell was that?!" one Astram commander shouts, his head whipping toward the epicenter.

Another Ember soldier stares, mouth open. "The barrier—did it just break?!"

Back on the battlefield, the blast settles.

Ash falls like snow.

The crater left behind is wide, deep, scorched at the edges and glassy near the center. Steam rises from it. And in the very middle—what's left of the peak Tier 5 beast lies motionless. Charred. Frozen. Unrecognizable.

Alix stands at the edge of the crater.

His coat flutters faintly from the aftershock winds.

The wind dies down.

The forest is silent.

Then—

Crack.

The air itself fractures.

The shattered dome overhead crumbles into glittering fragments, disintegrating like fragile glass under a hammer. Light bends unnaturally. Trees—once looming and thick—fade out of existence like illusions, blinking away piece by piece until only a flat, eerie emptiness remains.

The trial field is collapsing.

Before anyone can process what they're seeing, a sound echoes through the air for the first time since this began:

[ANOMALY DETECTED.]

The voice is emotionless. Cold. Mechanical. It booms from the black monolith at the heart of the sky—now glowing, pulsing red.

[TRIAL CANCELED. ALL PARTICIPANTS MARKED FOR ANNIHILATION.]

A heartbeat later, beams of searing light explode outward from the monolith—thin, focused, and lethal. They strike the ground, the soldiers, the beasts—anything that moves. Screams erupt across the field as bodies vanish into ash.

One beam snaps toward Alix—

He raises a hand.

Swat.

The light scatters like dust.

Around the air is thick with smoke and magic residue. Broken formations scatter the field. Soldiers on both sides—Ember Claw and Astram—lie in various states of confusion and panic.

He blinks once.

"…What the hell just happened?" Alix mutters.

His voice cuts through the chaos.

Lathar's voice answers, sharp and close behind him.

"I was about to ask you the same damn thing," he says, boots crunching through broken stone and frost-shattered earth as he jogs toward Alix. Dust streaks his armor, and one of his pauldrons is cracked, but his expression is focused. "What happened inside, did you broke the barrier?"

Alix doesn't turn immediately. He watches the monolith, still glowing red like an open wound in the sky.

Alix watches in silence, eyes narrowing at the pulsing glow above. Then—

Lathar steps beside him, tension thick in his voice. "No… no, that's impossible. I doubt even Lord Veyrith could break that barrier. That's not important right now, we need to get out of here. Now."

He turns, glancing toward the edges of the shattered battlefield. "Commanders have been trying to open a path, but nothing works. Every exit's sealed. The entire chamber's locked down. No matter what they throw at it—tier 5 spells, artifacts—they can't even scratch the walls."

Alix's lips curl upward in a faint smirk.

He mutters, half to himself, "Then isn't this the perfect chance… to make these monsters mine."

From within his coat, he pulls out a small, hexagonal token—etched with runes that shimmer in defiance of the surrounding magic. He presses his thumb into it.

A flash of light pulses beneath his feet.

Then—whoosh.

Alix lifts off the ground, calmly hovering above the chaos.

Gasps erupt from below.

"Commander Alix is flying?!"

"That's not possible! No one can fly here—!"

From both the Ember Claw and Astram sides, soldiers stare in awe and disbelief.

Then—

Another wave of pressure floods the area as the monolith begins to shift again, targeting him.

But Alix is ready.

He produces a second item—this one shaped like a black shard of glass, glowing with a soft blue core. He throws it into the air.

Click.

Time seems to freeze for a moment.

The monolith flickers. Its beams hesitate. Then, with a mechanical whine, its lights dim, temporarily shut down.

The sky above still pulses red, but it no longer attacks.

Silence falls again.

Even Lathar, still below, stares up with a rare look of stunned awe.

Alix hovers above them all, cloak rippling gently behind him. His voice cuts through the thick, charged air—measured, firm, regal.

"Listen closely."

He scans the field.

"I will reintroduce myself—not as a commander of the Ember Claw group…"

He pauses, letting the words settle.

"…but as the King of Erevaris."

Shock ripples through the crowd.

A few commanders shift uncomfortably. One Astram captain steps forward, incredulous.

"There is no Kingdoms in our continent," he says. "So that means you're from here. From the Three-Kingdom Continent."

Alix meets his gaze without flinching.

"That's right," he says coldly. "The same continent you were planning to invade after this event."

Murmurs erupt. Several soldiers freeze in place. Others glance at their commanders, unsure.

Alix's voice hardens.

"But now, things have changed."

He raises his sword slightly, enough to let its aura flicker like a warning.

"You're trapped. The monolith is still active. And your strongest can't break the walls."

He lets those truths sink in—slow and heavy.

"Right now, I hold the only means to stop that thing from vaporizing all of you."

His eyes blaze faint gold.

"So I'll give you a choice."

His voice rings louder now, commanding.

"Kneel and submit to me, and I promise you all, you will leave this place alive."

Another pause.

His gaze sweeps across the stunned crowd—soldiers, commanders, elites. Astram and Ember Claw alike.

"Don't take your time deciding."

He nods once toward the monolith, still dormant but flickering dangerously.

"I've only bought you a few minutes."

Silence.

Lathar steps forward.

He doesn't kneel.

His voice is quiet, but strained—like he's forcing it through a tightening chest.

"…So, you've been my enemy all along."

Alix looks down at him, expression unreadable. The air between them is heavy. Not with mana. But with something deeper. Trust. The edges of betrayal.

"Enemy?" Alix says evenly. "No, Lathar. I've never seen you as an enemy."

Lathar's eyes harden. "But you're not one of us. Everything you said… this kingdom of yours… You've been hiding it all this time. Watching us. Using us."

The crowd around them stays deathly still. Even the Astram commanders don't speak.

Alix's voice remains calm. Too calm.

"Tell me, Lathar," he says, floating a little higher, his tone shifting from cold to pointed, "aren't you stuck at the peak of Tier 5?"

Lathar's mouth tightens.

Alix flicks his hand.

Fwump.

Ten books materialize around him in a perfect spiral. Each one radiates so much pressure that the air visibly warps around them. Runes shimmer down their bindings—complex, ancient, viciously dense with magic.

Then another ten appear—different symbols, different power. Elemental cores swirl inside them like living eyes.

Twenty books.

Ten Tier 6 skills.

Ten Tier 6 spells.

Floating. Waiting.

Gasps ripple like lightning through the soldiers.

"Is that…?"

"Those are Tier 6 books…"

"I've never even seen one before…"

"Even our two leader only have three each—!"

Lathar stares up, stunned.

Even the Astram commanders falter—eyes wide, hearts sinking.

"W-Where did you even get that many—?"

Alix doesn't answer.

He simply lets the weight of it all settle—twenty books pulsing with enough power to tear apart cities. And one man standing at the center of it, unshaken.

"I don't need to fight you, Lathar," Alix says finally. "I still respect you."

He tilts his head, voice quiet.

"But if you raise your sword against me now, I will crush you."

Lathar doesn't respond right away. His fists are clenched at his sides. The disappointment in his eyes burns hotter than anger.

He looks around.

At the monolith, pulsing back to life.

At the soldiers. Confused. Frightened.

At the kneeling ones.

And then, finally, back at Alix—floating above them all, crowned in silence and fire.

Lathar inhales slowly, the muscles in his jaw tightening. He doesn't look away from Alix as he speaks—his voice low, heavy.

"I'll ask you," he says. "Can you defeat the two Lords?"

Alix doesn't hesitate. "They're just Tier 6. Not even peak Tier 6." His eyes narrow, the faint golden glow intensifying. "I can kill them together."

The air grows still again.

A murmur runs through the remaining soldiers—stunned, uncertain, afraid.