Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me-Chapter 65: The Fall Of Delon City (part 1)

A deafening roar erupts as a concentrated wave of molten fire surges forward in a straight line, consuming everything in its path. The intense heat warps the air, turning the ground into molten slag as it races toward the gates.

The moment it strikes, the enchantment on the gate flares brilliantly, struggling to hold. Runes etched into the wood glow fiercely, fighting against the infernal flames. But Groth’s attack is not a simple blaze—it is concentrated destruction.

Cracks snake across the barrier as the magic struggles against the relentless fire. Then—

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A resounding CRACK.

The enchantment shatters, and the full force of the infernal wave crashes into the weakened wood. The gate explodes inward, splintering into a hail of burning debris. Soldiers stationed near it scream as they are engulfed in flames, their armor melting into their flesh before they can even react.

Groth exhales slowly, watching the flames consume the entrance. "Now that," he mutters, "is how you break a door."

Behind him, Nyssara, Thurn, and Veltha step forward, eyes gleaming.

Nyssara grins, flexing her metallic fingers. "Looks like we’re going in."

Thurn licks his fangs, his venom dripping onto the scorched ground. "Time to hunt."

Veltha flicks her tail. "Let’s see if they can even put up a fight."

From above the walls, the human soldiers, stunned by the sudden breach, struggle to form a defensive line.

Umbero watches in horror as the once-impenetrable gate collapses in a wave of molten destruction. The city’s greatest defense—shattered in seconds. The soldiers around him, who had been standing tall with unwavering confidence, now stare in shock and fear.

How the hell do these monsters have a Tier 3 mage?

His mind races. He had heard the rumors of the five monster lords of the forest, but seeing their power firsthand is something else entirely. They weren’t just strong—they were terrifying.

Before he can issue new orders, the first wave of monsters surges through the burning remains of the gate.

"Hold the line!" Beor roars, drawing his sword. "Stop them before they enter the city!"

But it’s already too late.

Nyssara is the first to enter the breach, her massive Arachne form skittering over the burning rubble with unnatural speed. The moment she crosses into the city, she moves like a predator, her metal-infused limbs cutting through the smoke like blades.

A squad of human spearmen rushes toward her, their formation tight, their expressions hardened with resolve.

"Push her back!" their captain shouts. "Don’t let the monsters through!"

The human soldiers brace themselves, their spears angled forward in a deadly hedge. Their movements are disciplined, their formation practiced. They know that if they falter, the monsters will pour through and the city will fall.

Nyssara doesn’t even slow down.

The first spear thrusts toward her chest, its tip glowing with enchantment. A powerful strike—against any normal opponent, it would be lethal.

But Nyssara isn’t normal.

She doesn’t dodge. She doesn’t even attempt to block.

The spearhead slams into her metallic exoskeleton with a sharp clang—and stops dead.

The soldier who thrusts it blinks in horror. His weapon doesn’t even scratch her.

Then Nyssara moves.

With a flick of her wrist, her clawed hand swipes across the soldier’s chest. The force alone sends him flying backward, armor crumpling inward like tin foil. He slams into another soldier behind him, sending both to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs.

The formation breaks.

The spearmen hesitate, fear creeping into their disciplined ranks.

A mistake.

Nyssara lunges, her lower spider legs slamming into the ground with thunderous force. She barrels forward, her claws cutting through spears like twigs. Soldiers try to hold her back, but they might as well be trying to stop a charging war beast.

One soldier swings a sword at her neck.

She lets him.

The blade meets her exoskeleton—and snaps in half.

The soldier stares at his broken weapon, disbelieving.

Nyssara’s clawed hand wraps around his throat.

With a casual flex of her fingers, she crushes his windpipe and tosses him aside.

The rest of the spearmen panic. They turn to run.

Cowards.

Nyssara grins, rearing up on her hind legs. "Running already?" she taunts, her voice dripping with amusement.

A sudden whoosh cuts through the air.

A volley of enchanted arrows streaks toward her from the rooftops. The archers, stationed above, unleash a relentless hail, their projectiles glowing with magic.

Nyssara barely reacts.

The arrows strike her exoskeleton with sharp pings—but they fail to penetrate. Some glance off, ricocheting wildly. Others lodge into the ore-infused plates, unable to dig deeper.

She looks up at the archers, unimpressed.

"Are you tickling me?"

Then she moves.

With a burst of speed unnatural for her size, she leaps—straight toward the rooftop.

The archers barely have time to react before she lands among them, the roof cracking beneath her weight. Her clawed hands lash out, grabbing the nearest soldier. She hurls him from the rooftop, his scream cut short as he crashes into the stone street below.

Chaos erupts on the rooftop. The archers scramble to reposition, their bows useless in close quarters. One brave soldier draws a dagger, lunging at Nyssara’s neck.

She lets him.

The blade skids uselessly against her metallic exoskeleton.

Nyssara sighs. "Humans never learn."

Her arm swings in a blur, backhanding the archer so hard that his body sails off the rooftop, tumbling lifelessly to the ground below.

Back on the streets, Thurn slithers forward, his movement eerily silent. Unlike Nyssara, he doesn’t charge in—he hunts. His obsidian exoskeleton glistens under the fire-lit sky, the faint purple veins running through it pulsing with venom.

The humans barely notice him until it’s too late.

A group of sword-wielding soldiers rounds a corner, their attention locked on the raging battle ahead. They don’t see Thurn perched on the crumbling remains of a building’s facade, his many legs clinging to the surface like a predator waiting for the perfect moment.

Then he drops.

A scream pierces the air as he lands in the center of their formation, his bladed legs slicing through two soldiers instantly.