Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me-Chapter 63: Preparing To Attack (part 1)

What makes this attack different from before is the strength of three of its leaders.

Nyssara, Thurn, and Veltha have finally broken through to Tier 3.

Each of them now stands at Level 300 or higher, and with that breakthrough, they’ve awakened new inherited abilities unique to their bloodlines. Unlike humans, who need to train or acquire skills manually, although monsters can also learn and study skill books and spells. However, some monsters naturally unlock abilities upon reaching higher tiers. This is why the trio is more eager than ever to fight—they want to test their newfound power.

The army moves steadily through the dense forest, the ground trembling slightly under the weight of monstrous warriors. The scent of blood and steel lingers in the air, anticipation thick as they draw closer to the human city.

Among them, Nyssara flexes her fingers, feeling the hardened texture of her skin. No—not skin anymore. Her Arachne body, which had always been durable, has now evolved further.

The ore she consumed refined her very being, embedding her exoskeleton with minerals. Now, streaks of dark metal run along her limbs, and clusters of various ores protrude from her shoulders and arms like natural armor.

She clenches her fist experimentally. It’s harder. Denser. And yet… I don’t feel heavier.

Thurn walks beside her, his eyes scanning their surroundings. Unlike Nyssara, his evolution took a different path. He remained loyal to their tribe’s expertise—poison.

His body is slimmer than Nyssara’s, his exoskeleton a deep obsidian with subtle purple veins running along his arms and legs. The venom within him has become more potent, his fangs sharper, his stingers secreting a toxin powerful enough to melt through steel.

Thurn glances at Nyssara. "You look ridiculous." His voice is dry, unimpressed.

Nyssara smirks, flexing her metallic fingers. "And you look weak."

Thurn clicks his tongue. "Hmph. You think durability alone makes you superior?" He extends a hand, letting a drop of his venom fall onto a nearby rock. The stone sizzles, dissolving into a smoking puddle. "Let’s see if your ores can withstand this."

Nyssara chuckles. "You’ll have to try harder than that."

Veltha, the serpentine beastkin, watches the exchange with mild amusement. Her long tail coils and uncoils as she moves, her body more flexible and streamlined than before. While the Arachne siblings focused on hardening their bodies, Veltha’s evolution honed her speed and precision.

She flicks out her forked tongue, sensing the change in the air. "You’re both wasting time," she says smoothly. "No matter how strong you’ve become, if you can’t land a hit, then you’re useless."

Nyssara rolls her eyes. "And here comes the speech about speed."

Veltha smirks. "You wouldn’t need that ore armor if you could dodge properly."

Thurn exhales, annoyed. "If we get into another argument, Sorin will make us walk back to Misorn."

That shuts them up.

Groth, who has been silent the entire march, finally speaks. "Enough. The city is close." He said, and the dense mana surrounding his staff, only makes his presence more intimidating. "Focus."

At his words, the air shifts. The playful tension between Nyssara, Thurn, and Veltha fades, replaced by a cold, predatory anticipation.

Ahead of them, beyond the last stretch of trees, lies their target—a walled human city, its guards completely unaware of the approaching storm.

Nyssara grins, her metallic exoskeleton gleaming in the dim light. "Let’s see what these humans are made of."

Veltha’s golden eyes narrow. "If they’re smart, they’ll surrender."

Thurn bares his fangs. "If they’re not, they’ll die."

Sorin steps forward, drawing her twin daggers. "No unnecessary destruction. We take the city, not raze it." Her sharp gaze sweeps over them. "Understood?"

A chorus of low growls and murmured affirmations fills the air.

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Sorin steps up onto a fallen tree trunk, elevating herself above the gathered monster soldiers. Her amber eyes scan the army—eight thousand strong. Their gazes, filled with hunger, uncertainty, and excitement, lock onto her.

"Listen well," she calls out, her voice carrying through the silent forest. "When the battle starts, you will kill the enemy soldiers. But if civilians surrender, you do not kill them."

Some of the newer recruits shift uncomfortably, murmuring among themselves. A few had joined solely for the thrill of slaughtering humans. Sorin’s eyes narrow, catching the hesitation.

"We are not the monsters you used to be," she continues, her tone sharp. "You are now soldiers of the Erevaris Kingdom."

That statement alone stuns them into silence.

A kingdom?

Many of them had joined this force for the Tier 1 skills they received upon enlistment. Others simply wanted to take revenge on humans. But none of them had known they were fighting under a kingdom—one that none of them had ever heard of before.

Sorin lets the weight of her words settle before speaking again. "I know most of you have questions. I know you don’t even know who our king is. But after this battle, you will be invited to his capital. And you will be rewarded personally by His Majesty."

The murmuring grows louder.

A kingdom strong enough to conquer Misorn? Strong enough to command them—the most feared monsters of the forest?

It’s not just Sorin. The other four commanders standing with her—Nyssara, Thurn, Veltha, and Groth—aren’t just ordinary warriors. They were once known as the Lords of the Forest, each ruling over their own domains.

And now, they all follow a single ruler.

Nyssara steps forward, crossing her arms. "You’ve all heard of us before," she says, her voice calm but commanding. "You know our strength. Ask yourselves—what kind of being could make us follow him?"

Silence.

Even the most bloodthirsty monsters in the army hesitate at that thought.

Thurn smirks, fangs glinting. "If you think Erevaris is just some backwater kingdom, you’re in for a surprise."

Veltha flicks out her tongue, her golden eyes gleaming. "After today, you’ll understand why we serve."

Groth remains silent, but his old body still feels powerful, and his staff glows red like lava.

Sorin steps down from the tree trunk, her gaze sweeping over the gathered soldiers. "Fight well," she says simply. "Survive. And after this battle, you will see Erevaris for yourselves."

The uncertainty in the air shifts. It doesn’t disappear completely—but now, there is something else.

Anticipation.

Then, without another word, the army moves forward.