Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me

Zugan Town, Outskirts of Imlan Kingdom

Four days before the arrival of the Ashedge Clan

The sky above Zugan is thick with black smoke, choking out the morning light. The once-bustling frontier town now trembles beneath the roar of beasts and the cries of the dying. Half the outer wall has collapsed. Fires burn in the northern district. Blood paints the cobblestones crimson.

Middle-level Tier 5 Commander Relk stands atop a shattered watchtower, wind whipping at his tattered cloak. His armor is dented, splashed with soot and monster ichor. His once-polished sword is chipped. Below him, ten thousand soldiers, fight tooth and nail against the monstrous tide.

Relk grips the rusted iron railing, jaw clenched. His eyes scan the chaos—rows of Imlan soldiers in tight formations trying to hold chokepoints, archers stationed atop half-broken rooftops, healers desperately pouring magic into broken bodies. But it's not enough. It's never enough.

The monsters are twisted, intelligent, and cruel. Some tower with bristling carapace and bone-horns, others are lean, serpent-like things that weave through sword strikes with unnerving grace. And among them, commanders—evolved variants in crimson armor, leading their kin with silent precision.

Relk's adjutant scrambles up the stairs behind him, helmet tucked under one arm, blood running down the side of his head.

"Sir! We've lost the south wall! They're flanking through the merchant district!"

Relk snarls. "Where's the Seventh Company?!"

"Gone, sir. Ripped apart before they could fall back."

A tremor shakes the tower—far off, but heavy. A siege beast slams its clawed limbs into the western gate, splitting stone with each impact.

---

At the rear of the monstrous horde, where the screams are fainter and the sky glows only dimly with firelight, Ruva stands still. Her feline ears twitch with every distant explosion, every thunderclap of collapsed stone. The ground beneath her vibrates with the pulse of war.

Her tail is low, tense, curling slightly. Her eyes are wide, flicking from one burning structure to the next. All around her, monstrous troops howl and surge forward—beasts of scale, fang, and bone. The stench of death rides the wind, thick and coppery.

And yet, Ruva doesn't flinch.

She places a hand over the gem pendant resting against her chest, feeling its steady thrum—like Alix's heartbeat.

She breathes in, exhales slowly.

"I can do this," she whispers to herself, voice small. "I have to."

Her twin blades rest against her hips, their runes dim for now, as if waiting for her signal. Her armor is light, made for agility—cloth-wrapped leather reinforced with enchanted fiber. Her braid is tucked under a dark scarf, her steps quiet and measured.

She tries to ignore the thunder in her chest.

Ruva watches the chaos unfold from behind a half-shattered barricade. Explosions erupt in the distant town center. Magic arcs like lightning. She sees humans fighting back—not just with numbers, but grit. Some of them refuse to fall, even when surrounded. Even when bleeding.

It startles her.

"These human…" she murmurs, ears folding back slightly. "They're still fighting?"

A deep crack splits the air as another siege beast slams into the inner wall. A second later, the shockwave rolls past Ruva, fluttering her scarf and stirring the dust around her feet. A shriek goes up from a winged monster overhead as it dives into the fray, scattering soldiers like toys.

But Ruva remains still.

Her hand clenches at her side. Her sharp eyes track the movements—of allies, of enemies. The rhythm of battle is overwhelming, chaotic, like a storm with no center. She's seen training simulations, sparred against dummies, even fought beasts in controlled environments. But this?

This is war.

And it's terrifying.

"I chose this," she reminds herself quietly, almost like a prayer. "I chose to help him. I chose to fight."

A gust of wind spirals at her feet—subtle, focused. The runes along Ruva's short swords pulse once, reacting to her resolve. She grips both hilts, drawing them in a smooth, practiced motion.

Then she moves.

Like a whisper on the battlefield, she dashes from cover, a blur of feline grace and sharpened instinct. Her feet barely touch the ground as wind cushions each step, propelling her forward with silent bursts. Her cloak flutters behind her, and the air wraps around her like an ally. Spot an error? Visit the original post on M&VLEMPY&R.

She skirts the edge of the front line, eyes locked onto a human squad attempting to reinforce a crumbling barricade. A Tier 3 knight leads them—wounded, but standing tall.

He sees her too late.

Ruva ducks low and launches herself into the air—[Tier 3: Wind Step], her body propelled by compressed currents beneath her boots. She flips once, blades humming in both hands, then crashes down in a controlled arc.

The knight raises his shield—

Too slow.

Slash!

Her right blade slices across his arm, and the shield spins from his grasp. Her left blade jabs through the seam of his chestplate with a gust-backed thrust—[Tier 3: Piercing Gale]—and he jerks, coughing blood.

For a moment, Ruva just stands there, her sword buried in a man's chest. His eyes meet hers.

They're not angry.

Just surprised.

His sword slips from his hand.

Ruva pulls her blade free.

He crumples.

And her breath catches.

Her ears flatten. Her arms tremble. That was… a person. A real one.

She looks at the blood on her blade—still hot. Her pulse roars in her ears.

She hates this feeling.

But her brother's face flashes in her mind. His hand on her shoulder. His quiet voice.

"Until you're strong enough to stand alone… use every tool you can.'

She clenches her jaw. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "But I have to."

A shout from her left—another soldier charges her, Tier 3 mage by the robes. He conjures a flame dart mid-run, hurling it at her chest.

Ruva spins—[Tier 4: Twisting Wind Veil]—a vortex surges around her and flings the spell wide. In one blink, she vanishes from his line of sight.

Then she's behind him.

Both blades flash in a crisscross arc—[Tier 4: Wind Fang Slash]—and he falls before he can scream.

No time to think. No time to feel.

She presses deeper into the chaos.

A roar breaks through the ringing of steel and screams.

"MONSTER!!"

The voice booms from her right, gravel-thick and furious.

Ruva turns—barely in time.

A giant of a man barrels toward her, plated head to toe in reinforced earth-colored armor. Dirt and stone crawl along his greaves and gauntlets, shifting with each step. The sigil of a Tier 4 Captain gleams from his shoulder. His greatsword—wide as a door and etched with runes—glows faintly brown with gathering elemental power.

The earth beneath his boots cracks as he stomps—[Tier 3: Earthhold Surge]. Dust and debris launch outward in a ripple.

Ruva plants her feet and kicks off sideways, [Tier 3: Wind Step] giving her just enough burst to avoid being crushed by the blunt edge of his initial swing.

Boom!

The impact splits the cobblestones where she'd stood, and the shockwave hurls rubble into the air.

Ruva flips midair, lands light-footed on a broken wall.

The captain's eyes burn as he points his sword at her. "You damn beast. I watched you butcher them like cattle."

His aura flares—stony and oppressive.

"I'll bury you right here!"

Ruva's blades hum in reply, the wind gathering around her as she breathes deep. "I don't want to fight you," she says quietly. "But I will."

He lunges—quicker than his size suggests—bringing his greatsword down in a two-handed arc. [Tier 4: Seismic Rend]—the blow trails a wave of rupturing earth behind it.

Ruva dashes straight toward the strike—then twists, slipping under the arc with [Tier 3: Wind Veil Flicker], her body blurring. She slides low, wind cushioning her movement, and slices upward with a quick [Tier 4: Crosscut Slash] at his thigh joint.

Clang!

Sparks burst. His armor holds.

He growls. "Tch—"

Ruva lands lightly again, crouching low with her blades at the ready. Her golden eyes don't blink. She's gauging him—not with fear, but with quiet calculation.

The captain raises his greatsword and sets his stance. "You're fast," he growls. "But you're not strong enough to kill me."

Ruva exhales.

Then—click.

Tiny sparks ripple along her armor as three runes ignite in sequence: one on her left bracer, one at her hip, and one just beneath her collarbone. Each one pulses once—powerful, restrained, dangerous.

[Peak-Tier 4 Item Activation: Gale Circuit → Active]

[Storm-Binding Boots → Tier 4: Stabilizing Windlocks Engaged]

[Twinblades of Wyrmhowl → Tier 4: Wind Resonance Synced]