Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me

The street falls into a tense silence, Dorel's outburst hanging heavily in the air. The detained human soldiers, their faces etched with exhaustion and resentment, exchange uncertain glances. Their ingrained beliefs paint monsters as relentless killers, incapable of mercy or restraint. Yet, the reality before them challenges this perception.

Unbeknownst to the human soldiers, the monster army undergoes rigorous training to master their emotions, achieving a level of discipline that often surpasses that of humans. This control enables them to act strategically, rather than succumbing to base instincts.

One soldier, his voice tinged with reluctant realization, breaks the silence. "Maybe... maybe he has a point. Our families are unharmed."

Another, still grappling with the weight of the situation, mutters, "But they're monsters. How can we trust them?"

A third, his tone softer, reflects, "Perhaps we've misjudged them. Their actions speak differently than we expected."

Sorin, observing the shifting sentiments, speaks gently to Dorel, "Come, let's reunite you with your family."

Dorel nods, a glimmer of hope in his eyes, and continues down the path, leaving the soldiers to ponder the complexities of their new reality.

A day has passed since the city's fall. The monster forces have established control, and the human soldiers face a choice: surrender and serve, or resist and face the consequences.

In the central square, General Varkas addresses the assembled captives.

"Humans," he begins, his deep voice resonating, "you are now our captives, and don't think we will let you go. Your city is under our control. However, we offer you a path forward."

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Some soldiers exchange wary glances, while others stare defiantly ahead.

Varkas continues, "Those among you who choose to lay down your arms will be given roles as guards within this city. You will maintain order among your own people, ensuring their safety and well-being."

A soldier from the front row steps forward, his face etched with skepticism. "And if we refuse?"

Nyssara, standing beside Varkas, responds with a calm yet firm tone. "Resistance will not be tolerated. However, understand this: we do not seek unnecessary bloodshed. Cooperation benefits all."

Another soldier, younger and visibly shaken, asks, "What guarantees do we have that our families will remain safe?"

Varkas meets his gaze. "Your families are under our protection. Your decision will not affect their safety. Our quarrel was with your rulers, not civilians."

The crowd remains silent, the weight of the decision pressing upon them.

After a moment, an older officer steps forward. "I will serve as a guard. If it means preserving what's left of our city and people, it's a duty I'm willing to undertake."

Slowly, more soldiers nod in agreement, stepping forward to join the ranks of the city's new guards.

However, a faction remains unmoved. One of them, a hardened veteran with no family ties in the city, speaks up. "I won't bow to monsters. I'd rather face whatever consequences you have in store."

Varkas regards him for a long moment before nodding. "So be it. You will be detained until further decisions are made."

In the aftermath of the city's capture, the monster generals convene in the grand hall of the seized citadel. The room, once adorned with human regalia, now stands as a testament to the monsters' dominance.

General Varkas stands at the head of a massive stone table, his piercing eyes surveying his commanders: Sorin, Thurn, Nyssara, and Veltha.

Varkas's deep voice breaks the silence. "The fall of this city marks a significant victory, but our campaign is far from over. The remaining cities of the Ordeya Kingdom are vulnerable, their defenses lacking. We must act swiftly to capitalize on their weakness."

Nyssara said thoughtfully. "General, our scouts report that cities like Shollis and Tavon have minimal garrisons. Their leaders, complacent in their perceived security, will not anticipate an assault."

Thurn's fists clench in anticipation. "Then let's not keep them waiting. My unit is ready to march at your command.".

Veltha, her serpentine eyes narrowing, adds, "A coordinated strike on multiple fronts will sow confusion and hasten their downfall."

Varkas nods, his gaze unwavering. "Agreed. Sorin, you and Thurn will lead the assault on the Shollis city. Nyssara and Veltha, your forces will take on the Tavon city."

The commanders gather around the expansive map spread across the stone table, their eyes tracing the routes to Shollis and Tavon. The cities lie to the east and southeast, respectively, separated by rolling plains and dense forests.

Sorin taps the map near Shollis. "The terrain here is mostly open fields," she observes. "We can cover the distance swiftly without much resistance."

Thurn nods in agreement. "A direct march will bring us to their gates before they have time to react."

Nyssara's clawed finger trails along the path to Tavon. "This route cuts through the Shadowfen Woods," she notes. "The dense canopy could provide cover for our approach but might also conceal potential threats."

Veltha's serpentine eyes gleam. "Our forces are adept at navigating such environments. We can use the forest to our advantage, striking swiftly and without warning."

Varkas surveys his commanders, pride evident in his gaze. "You all understand the stakes. Move out immediately and show these cities the might of our forces."

With synchronized bows, the commanders depart to rally their units. As dawn breaks, the monstrous legions march forth, their disciplined ranks moving with purpose toward their next conquests.

------

Alix and Draya navigate the bustling streets of Firion, the capital city of Valgros, their appearances altered to blend seamlessly with the human populace. The city is alive with festivity; colorful banners stretch across narrow alleys, and the air is filled with the enticing aromas of roasted meats and sweet confections.

Street performers captivate onlookers with lively tunes and mesmerizing dances, while children weave through the crowds, their laughter ringing out in delight.

Approaching a vendor's stall adorned with an array of vibrant fabrics, Alix feigns casual curiosity.

"Excuse me," Alix begins, his tone light, "what's the occasion for all these celebrations?"

The vendor, a middle-aged man with a friendly demeanor, looks up from arranging his wares and smiles.

"You must be a tourists," he replies warmly. "We're celebrating the return of Prince Asdri from his grand adventure. The entire city is rejoicing in his honor."