Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me-Chapter 102: Cras City

The next day

Morning arrives, and the kingdom hums with renewed energy. The ministers, freshly revived yet already fully immersed in their duties, work with an efficiency.

A knock sounds at his door.

"Enter," Alix calls.

Draya steps inside, bowing slightly. "Your Majesty, reports from the ministers."

She hands him a neatly stacked set of documents. Alix flips through them, but before he can read the details, Draya speaks again.

"Thano and Lirik are especially efficient," she notes. "Thano has already organized a workforce for infrastructure projects, and Lirik is implementing strict economic policies to stabilize trade and tax collection."

Alix smirks. "Good. I expected nothing less."

Down in the administrative halls, Thano towers over a large table, surrounded by new talented monsters.

"We'll prioritize road expansions first," he rumbles, pointing at a map. His massive fingers tap key locations. "If we improve transport routes between Delon and Misorn, trade efficiency will increase."

A lean goblin, nods eagerly. "And that will lower the strain on the merchants, allowing more goods to circulate faster."

"Exactly," Thano grunts. "After that, we reinforce the city walls. The humans might be watching, but if they ever get stupid, I want them to see fortifications they know they can't break through."

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The room fills with approving murmurs. Thano's practical approach reassures everyone present—this isn't just expansion, it's preparation for whatever comes next.

Meanwhile, in the Finance Ministry, Lirik scans financial records with razor-sharp focus. His emerald-green scales shimmer under the candlelight as his clawed hand scribbles notes.

A subordinate, a harpy accountant, shifts nervously. "Minister, about the tax adjustments—"

"They stay," Lirik states firmly, not looking up. "If we lessen taxes too soon, we risk destabilizing growth. Keep them balanced. We need to build a treasury reserve before we make concessions."

The harpy swallows and nods. "Understood."

Lirik finally looks up, his piercing gaze settling on her. "Do you doubt my decision?"

"N-no, sir! Just making sure I understood correctly."

Lirik huffs, satisfied. "Good. The kingdom is recovering, but rapid growth comes with risk. Stability is more important than reckless expansion."

Back in Alix's chamber.

Alix leans back in his chair after reviewing the reports. Everything is going smoothly—better than he anticipated.

Alix taps his fingers against the armrest of his chair, his thoughts shifting toward the next step.

'I guess it's time to announce my kingdom to the world.'

Misorn and Delon are already under his control. His ministers are handling internal affairs well. Now, it's time to establish their presence beyond their borders.

Without hesitation, Alix calls out, "Vaelin."

A brief silence follows before the air in front of him distorts. Shadows ripple and twist until a tall, silver-furred beastkin materializes, his piercing blue eyes already locked onto Alix.

"You called, Your Majesty?" Vaelin's voice is smooth, carrying a quiet sharpness.

Alix meets his gaze. "Spread the word. We will now announce our kingdom's name to the world. Make sure this news reaches the three kingdoms as well."

Vaelin's bows. "As you command. I will ensure the message is delivered far and wide."

Without another word, he vanishes, his form dissolving into wisps of shadow.

Alix leans back, exhaling slowly.

Let's see how the world reacts.

----

Inside the grand palace of Eldoria, King Edric sits in his chamber, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he reads the report in his hands. The seal of the Intelligence Division marks the parchment, its contents clear and undeniable.

"The monsters occupying Misorn and Delon have declared their own kingdom... Erevaris."

Edric rubs his temple, his expression weary. This wasn't entirely unexpected, but hearing it confirmed feels like a sharp blow nonetheless.

A deep voice interrupts his thoughts. "Your Majesty," Marshal Walric says, standing tall in his polished armor, "do you want me to station all our soldiers in Cras City? It's close to Delon. If those monsters expand further, Cras will surely be their next target."

Edric sets the report down and shakes his head. "No, there's no need." His voice is calm but firm. "We need to focus our strength on defending Varestand City."

Walric frowns slightly but doesn't argue. "Varestand is valuable, yes, but if we lose Cras, it will weaken our defenses in the south."

Edric exhales slowly, his gaze heavy with thought. "We don't have a choice, Walric," he says, his voice quieter but firm. "We can only abandon Cras City."

Walric stiffens. "Your Majesty—"

"They have a Tier 5 monster on their side," Edric cuts in, his expression grim. "While we have none."

The marshal clenches his fists, his jaw tightening. He knows Edric is right. A Tier 5 monster alone is enough to wipe out an entire battalion. Holding Cras against such a force would be suicide.

Edric leans back in his chair, fingers steepled. "Varestand, on the other hand, has a Tier 5 defensive spell from the Mage Tower. If they come for us, that's where we make our stand."

Walric exhales sharply, his shoulders tense. "Abandoning Cras means giving them more ground."

"It means delaying an inevitable loss," Edric corrects. "Cras was a trade hub. But Varestand is different. If Erevaris expands further, they'll have to think twice before attacking it."

The room falls into silence. The weight of the decision settles between them. Finally, Walric nods, his expression dark. "I'll oversee the evacuation of Cras and reinforce Varestand immediately."

"Good." Edric's voice is steady, but there's no triumph in it—only the cold calculation of survival.

As Walric turns to leave, Edric grips the armrest of his chair, his knuckles whitening. A monster kingdom, a Tier 5 force at their disposal… and we have nothing to match them.

His gaze darkens. "We need a way to fight back."

-----

The early morning mist clings to the ground as Sorin rides at the head of her force, the disciplined march of monsters echoing through the open plains. The city of Cras rises in the distance, its modest walls a pale reflection of the grander fortifications of Delon.

Sorin narrows her eyes. Too quiet.