Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me-Chapter 66: The Fall Of Delon City (part 2)

"Ambush!" one of them yells, turning to strike.

Thurn hisses, his fangs flashing. His tail whips forward, striking the soldier’s arm before he can swing. A thin cut—barely noticeable.

The man frowns. "That barely—"

Then his body convulses. His skin blackens, veins bulging as Thurn’s venom takes hold. Within seconds, he collapses, foaming at the mouth.

Thurn chuckles. "Humans really do have weak constitutions."

The remaining soldiers hesitate, their fear palpable.

Veltha takes advantage.

With unnatural speed, the serpentine warrior darts into their ranks. Her flexible body twists between them like flowing water, avoiding their clumsy sword strikes with ease.

A soldier swings his greatsword at her head.

Veltha ducks, her body bending impossibly low, her eyes flashing with amusement.

"Too slow."

Her tail whips forward, striking the man’s legs out from under him. As he falls, she coils around his neck in an instant. The sickening crack of his spine snapping echoes through the streets.

The others try to retreat, but Veltha doesn’t let them. She slithers forward, her movements blurring with terrifying speed. A dagger flashes in her hand, and blood sprays as she carves through armor and flesh alike.

By the time she stops, five bodies lie at her feet.

Umbero watches the massacre unfold, his heart pounding.

These monsters—these lords of the forest—were untouchable. Their power was beyond anything he had ever faced.

He grips his sword tightly. "Damn it all…"

Delon is falling. And no one is coming to save them.

Beor grits his teeth, his knuckles white as he grips his sword. The battlefield is drenched in chaos, bodies strewn across the streets, smoke curling into the sky. The monstrous invaders move through his soldiers like an unstoppable tide, their overwhelming power reducing the city’s defenders to nothing more than prey.

He turns to Umbero, his voice grim. "My lord, flee the city. We will try to stop them."

Umbero doesn’t argue. He doesn’t waste time with empty words about honor or duty. He knows the truth—this city is already lost. His family is waiting for him beyond the walls, having fled the moment the battle began. He clenches his jaw, nodding once.

"May the gods watch over you, Beor," he says, before turning on his heel and disappearing into the shadows of the city.

Beor exhales slowly, steeling himself. He is the last line of defense, the only warrior in Delon strong enough to stand against these creatures. He is Tier 3, just like them—but he is only one, and they are four.

And, to make matters worse, they’re arguing.

Nyssara folds her arms, her many legs tapping impatiently against the stone. "I should fight him," she declares. "I’ve barely used my new skills. Those soldiers didn’t even last five seconds."

Thurn hisses, his fangs glinting. "You’re not the only one who wants to test their abilities, Nyssara. Besides, I like fighting warriors, not weaklings."

Veltha smirks, coiling her long serpentine body as she watches Beor. "You’re both too reckless. If anyone should fight him, it’s me. I’ll make it quick and efficient."

Beor tightens his grip on his weapon. "Are you monsters seriously debating who gets to kill me?"

Nyssara turns to him, grinning. "Yes, we are. We don’t get many fights worth our time."

Beor exhales sharply. "Enough of this nonsense." He lowers his stance, his aura flaring as he readies himself. "Come at me, all of you. Let’s end this."

The three exchange glances.

Thurn chuckles. "Cocky, aren’t you?"

Veltha’s smirk widens. "Bold. I like him."

Nyssara rolls her shoulders. "Fine. Let’s not waste time, then."

And then, they move.

Nyssara is the first to attack. She lunges forward, her metallic claws slicing through the air. Beor barely manages to parry, his blade meeting her strike with a resounding clang. The force alone sends him sliding backward, his boots scraping against the bloodied cobblestone.

Beor grits his teeth as the impact rattles his arms. She’s strong—far stronger than any monster he’s ever faced. But he doesn’t falter. He channels his mana, activating Titan’s Guard, a Tier 2 defensive skill. His muscles tense, his body hardening as a faint golden glow coats his form.

Nyssara’s next strike comes fast, her claws a blur. Beor plants his feet and meets it head-on. The impact sends a shockwave through the street, dust and debris kicking up around them. But this time, he doesn’t budge.

Nyssara narrows her eyes. "Oh? You can take a hit."

Beor smirks. "I’m not done."

With a burst of speed, he counters with Iron Fang Slash, his sword glowing as he swings at her exposed side.

Nyssara doesn’t dodge. Instead, she shifts, letting her ore-infused exoskeleton take the brunt of the attack. Sparks fly as the blade scrapes against her metallic body, failing to cut through.

Beor’s eyes widen. ’Damn it. I didn’t even leave a mark.’

"Nice try," Nyssara taunts, her fangs bared.

Before he can react, Thurn moves. He strikes from the side, his obsidian-clad legs lashing out in a flurry of sharp jabs. Beor barely raises his blade in time, deflecting the first two strikes, but the third grazes his shoulder. A thin line of blood appears, and he feels a slight burning sensation spread from the wound.

"Venom," Beor growls.

Thurn chuckles.

Beor grits his teeth, forcibly suppressing the pain with sheer will. He can’t afford to slow down. With a quick step, he twists, slamming his shield into Thurn’s side with all his might.

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The impact sends Thurn skidding across the street, his armored hide scraping against stone. "Not bad."

Beor turns, just in time to see Veltha’s form flicker. Damn it! Where—

A sharp pain erupts in his side. Veltha materializes behind him, her dagger sinking shallowly into his armor. Beor reacts instantly, swinging his elbow back.

He stumbles, but he doesn’t fall.

"Impressive," Veltha purrs. "But you’re already slowing down."

Beor exhales, feeling his body growing heavier. The venom is spreading. If he doesn’t act fast, he’ll be dead in minutes.

He grips his sword tighter. ’No choice. I have to use it.’