Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me

Alix exhales, a little stunned.

"…Oh. Wow," he mutters, glancing around again. "That went more smoothly than I expected."

He takes a slow step forward, the forest silent except for the faint rustling of unseen branches.

No Gander.

Alix looks back—there's no portal. Just trees. Endless, unbroken trees.

His brow furrows.

"…Huh."

He doesn't panic. Instead, he touches the space beside him, and the system's faint interface shimmers into view. Still functional.

"Looks like we didn't arrive together," he mutters.

The mist curls a little higher, and somewhere deep in the forest, something cracks—like a branch under weight.

Alix's eyes sharpen.

"Well," he says under his breath, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips, "guess we find out where the hell I am."

Alix rises slightly into the air, cloak whispering against the wind as he hovers just above the treetops. The canopy rustles beneath him—dense, wild, untouched. He narrows his gaze toward the direction of the sound he heard earlier.

Another sharp crack cuts through the stillness, closer this time.

Alix glides silently toward it, threading through the mist like a ghost. The branches shift and sway beneath his passage, and within moments, he reaches a small clearing tucked between twisted roots and stone outcroppings.

His eyes land immediately on the scene below.

In the clearing below, surrounded by snarling wolves nearly twice her size, stands a small humanoid girl with tiger-striped skin and a striped tail swaying behind her. Her ears are flattened, claws out, fangs bared in a desperate snarl. She backs up slowly, crouched low with tension coiled in her limbs.

The wolves close in, growling low and steady. Foam lines one of their jaws. One lunges.

Before it can land, Alix drops.

He lands between them in an instant, boots striking the ground with a low, final thud. The force sends a light ripple through the earth, scattering leaves and snapping the momentum of every creature there.

The wolves freeze.

The girl blinks up at him, eyes wide with shock and something else—confusion, maybe. Her breath hitches.

One of the wolves snarls louder in response, stepping forward.

Alix doesn't move.

But his presence does.

A pulse of mana, coiling, unnatural, rolls out from him like a wave. The wolves recoil instantly, yelping and backing off, hackles rising. One bolts. The others follow, tails between their legs, vanishing into the misty woods without a second thought.

Silence returns.

Alix finally turns around.

The tiger girl's breathing is shallow. Her tail flicks. She crouches like she's ready to run, muscles trembling—but she doesn't.

Alix meets her gaze, then lowers himself to a knee, just enough so he's not towering.

"You alright?" he asks, voice even.

She blinks rapidly, then gives a quick, hesitant nod. "Y-Yeah… I think so."

Alix watches her for a moment, letting her catch her breath. Her body's still coiled like a spring, but her eyes are clearer now—sharp, wary, alive.

"What's your name?" he asks, calm and direct.

She hesitates, clearly debating whether to answer. Then, perhaps deciding she owes him at least that much, she mutters, "Ruva."

Alix nods once. "Ruva," he repeats, then glances to the side as he calls up the interface with a flick of thought.

The translucent screen flickers into view, shimmering just out of Ruva's line of sight. He narrows his eyes, focusing on her presence—and the system responds instantly, runes aligning into a compact, glowing profile.

Name: Ruva

Race: Felinari

Level: 201

Status: Wounded, Mana Depleted

Affinity: Wind

Alix tilts his head slightly as he reads the display, a flicker of interest lighting behind his eyes.

Tier 2 already, he thinks. And that young… Interesting.

He lets the interface fade and turns his full attention back to her. Her small hands are clenched at her sides, but she's not shaking anymore. Just watching him, guarded.

"What were you doing out here?" Alix asks gently.

Ruva stiffens. Her ears droop a little, and her mouth opens like she's about to answer—but then her eyes well up with sudden tears.

"I… I-I don't know," she chokes out, voice cracking. "I just ran. Last night, my village—there was fire. I woke up and everything was burning. I couldn't find anyone. I just… ran…"

She hiccups, rubbing at her face with the back of her wrist.

Alix's expression softens. "Oh…" he murmurs, the sound more like a breath than a word. His posture eases.

Then, suddenly—growl.

The sound is soft, almost comically so—but it cuts through the silence like a stone dropped in still water.

Ruva freezes.

Her stomach growls again, louder this time, and her ears flatten against her head in pure embarrassment. Her face flushes as she curls slightly inward, trying to pretend like it didn't happen.

Alix raises an eyebrow, then lets out a quiet chuckle.

He shifts, reaching into the folds of his cloak. "Are you hungry?" he asks, his voice warm now, coaxing. A small smile touches his lips—just enough to ease the tension, to remind her he's not a threat.

Ruva looks up at him warily, then gives the smallest nod. "…A little."

"I've got something here," Alix says, pulling out a wrapped ration—simple, compact, but more than enough for a starving kid. He kneels again and holds it out slowly, letting her see it before offering it forward. "It's not fancy, but it's warm."

Ruva stares at it for a second like she's not sure it's real. Then, cautiously, she creeps forward on all fours, eyes flicking between the food and Alix's face. Her claws gently take the package from his hand, and she hugs it close before unwrapping it like it's some sacred treasure.

She doesn't speak, but the way she devours the first few bites says everything.

Alix watches quietly, then leans back on one knee, arms resting across his leg.

"Take your time," he says softly, gaze drifting toward the trees. "You're safe now."

And for the first time since she appeared, Ruva's tail gives a small, slow flick. Not in fear.

But relief.

When the last bite is gone, Ruva sits back on her heels, licking a crumb from her thumb. Her posture is less tight now—shoulders lower, tail relaxed against the forest floor. She looks at Alix, not quite smiling, but no longer afraid.

Alix studies her face for a moment, then speaks gently. "Ruva… do you remember where your village is?"

She hesitates, biting her lip. Her eyes drop to the ground.

"Mister," she says quietly, "are you going to help me?"

Alix blinks. Then, with a faint, lopsided grin, he nods. "Yeah. I am."

Her eyes flicker up, just a little wider.

"We'll go check your village," Alix continues, standing now and offering a hand down to her. "See if anyone else made it out. Alright?"

Ruva hesitates for a breath—then her small hand slips into his.

Alix squeezes gently. "And one more thing," he adds. "Stop calling me 'Mister.' Makes me feel old."

She tilts her head, confused. "Then… what should I call you?"

Alix smirks. "Call me Big Brother Alix. Got it?"

Her ears twitch. "Big brother…?"

He nods once, confident. "That's right."

For the first time, Ruva's lips curl into a tiny, shy smile. "…Okay. Big Brother Alix."

Alix ruffles her hair with one hand, making her let out a small, startled sound, but she doesn't pull away.

"Good. Let's go." He glances toward the forest. "Lead the way if you can. We'll find what's left—together."

The forest gives way to the charred edge of a clearing as they move. Ruva walks beside him, her hand still gripping his loosely. The air grows heavier the closer they get. Ruva's steps slow.

When the first broken fence post comes into view—splintered and blackened—Alix's expression hardens. Then, past it, the village opens up.

What's left of it.

Alix stopped, Ruva stops beside him. She doesn't speak. Her eyes go wide, and her tail droops flat against the back of her legs.

Alix takes a breath, then turns slightly. His voice is low, but firm.

"Ruva. Stay here."

She doesn't move.

"Let me go first. I'll check if it's safe." Alix says, gentler now.

But her voice cuts in before he can take a step.

"Can I come with you, big brother." She says it quietly, but there's a tremor in her tone—like she's holding something back.

Alix turns to her fully.

She clenches her small fists at her sides, jaw tight. "I need to see. I have to see if my parents are still here."

For a long moment, Alix doesn't speak. He watches her—how her shoulders shake even as she stands her ground. How her claws dig slightly into her palms, holding back whatever pain is building.

Then, slowly, he nods.

"Alright," he says quietly. "But stay close to me."

Ruva gives a shaky nod. "Okay."

Alix reaches out, brushing his hand over the top of her head again—gentler this time. "Come on," he murmurs. "Let's go find them."

They step into the village.

Or what's left of it.

The ashes are cold now. The fires have long since died, but the smell lingers—smoke and charred wood, something acrid underneath. Bones and blackened debris litter the pathways. Cracked pots. Collapsed roofs. A single wooden toy, half-burned, lies beside what might've once been a doorstep.

Ruva walks in silence.

She pauses in front of a small home. What's left of it is barely standing—walls caved inward, roof mostly gone.

"...This was aunty Yules family's house," she says softly, voice flat. "They had two kids. Little twins. I used to play with them…"

She takes a step forward and stops, staring at something in the rubble. Her breath catches.

Alix follows her gaze—and sees them.

Two small bodies, curled up against each other, as if they'd been hiding. As if they were hoping the fire would pass them by.