Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me

Varkas's expression hardens, the weight of Alix's words settling over him. He bows his head slightly. "Understood, Your Majesty. I will not waste this life."

Alix gives him a firm nod. "Good. Now, go. Settle into your territory and get used to the city again."

Varkas straightens to his full height and places a fist over his chest. "As you command." With that, he turns and strides toward the exit, his massive frame moving with quiet confidence.

Once Varkas is gone, Alix turns his attention back to the Resurrection Altar. He still has 300,000 gold left. It's not much compared to what he just spent, but it's enough to bring back a solid force.

He raises a hand over the altar. The system interface flickers to life.

"[Select: One Squad of Soldiers.]"

[Resurrection Confirmed.]

[Deducting 300,000 Gold…]

The altar glows again, though this time, the surge of energy is less intense than before. The crimson runes pulse steadily, the chamber vibrating with restrained power.

Then—

Vwoom.

A cluster of figures materializes before him.

At the forefront stands a tall, armored warrior—his presence commanding. His plate armor gleams under the dim glow of the chamber, a deep scar running across his left cheek. His level displays above him:

[Rygar – Level 415]

Behind him, twenty soldiers stand at attention, their levels ranging from 200 to 300. Some are in heavy armor, others in lighter gear suited for mobility. Their weapons are diverse—blades, spears, bows—but they all share the same disciplined stance.

Rygar steps forward, dropping to one knee. His voice is steady, unwavering. "Your Majesty. We are honored to return to your service."

Alix crosses his arms, scanning the soldiers. He nods in approval. "Stand."

The squad rises in unison, their movements sharp.

Alix looks over the group, then gestures for them to gather closer. "You'll be stationed somewhere else."

Rygar and his soldiers step in, forming a disciplined formation around him.

Alix meets Rygar's gaze. "I'm sending you to Misorn City. It's now under our kingdom's rule, and I need you there to reinforce security."

Rygar nods. "Understood, Your Majesty. How do we get there?"

Alix quickly explains the route, detailing the paths and key landmarks. "You'll need to travel by foot. Once you arrive, report to Sorin—she's in charge there. She'll decide where to station you."

Rygar clenches his fist over his chest in salute. "We will not fail you."

Alix smirks slightly. "Good. Now go."

With that, he activates his teleportation. The world distorts around him.

Sorin is hunched over her desk, surrounded by stacks of parchment and ledgers. Her dark eyes are focused as she scribbles down reports, occasionally pushing stray strands of hair behind her ear. The workload has doubled ever since the dungeon became operational, and she barely has time to breathe.

Then—

Vwoom.

Alix suddenly materializes in the room.

Sorin jumps, her dagger half-drawn before she recognizes him. She exhales sharply, rubbing her temple. "Your Majesty—" she sighs, shaking her head. "Could you not do that?"

Alix chuckles, arms crossed. "Didn't know an assassin could get frightened."

She glares at him but doesn't have the energy to argue. "I'm not frightened," she mutters. "I'm just tired and stressed."

Alix glances at the cluttered desk. "I thought you hired monsters to help you with this."

"I did," Sorin sighs, rolling her shoulders. "But there are thousands of monsters requesting citizenship. It's insane. Ever since the dungeon opened, Misorn has exploded with new residents."

Alix raises a brow. "How many?"

"In just a few days?" Sorin leans back, rubbing her temples. "Twelve thousand. And it's not slowing down."

Alix thought. 'Twelve thousand already? That explains the workload.' But more than that, it reminds him of the insane requirement to reach level 500—he needs five hundred thousand citizens. The jump from ten thousand to that number still feels ridiculous.

At this rate… it's possible, but it'll take time.

Shaking the thought away, he focuses back on Sorin. "That's actually why I'm here. There will be a squad of soldiers, including a Tier 4 (level 400) captain. They'll be arriving soon. You can decide where to station them."

Sorin immediately perks up at that. "That's perfect." She sits up straighter, looking far more alert. "With the population growing this fast, we need more guards."

Alix nods. "Good. Then I'll leave them to you."

Sorin exhales, relief evident in her posture. "I'll make sure they're put to good use."

Alix watches her for a moment before saying. "It's good to see that you're not hiding your identity anymore."

Sorin blinks, then chuckles softly. "It's all thanks to you, your majesty. There's no point in hiding my face anymore—not when I'm in the safest place in the world."

Alix tilts his head slightly. "Hmm… I wouldn't claim my kingdom is the safest place in the world just yet."

He keeps his expression neutral, but inwardly, he knows the truth—he still doesn't know much about this world. He's only begun to scratch the surface of its dangers.

"But," he continues, his voice steady, "I will promise you this—my kingdom will not be destroyed by anyone."

Sorin meets his gaze, something unreadable flickering in her dark eyes. There's a quiet confidence in his words, an unshakable determination that makes her believe it.

Alix steps back, preparing to teleport. But just before he does, he smirks again and says, "And it's good that you're not hiding your beautiful face anymore."

Sorin's breath catches.

A faint blush creeps up her cheeks, her usual composure faltering. She opens her mouth, but no words come out. It's the first time she's ever felt this—this strange, unfamiliar warmth in her chest.

Vwoom.

Before she can even process it, Alix is gone.

Sorin stands there for a long moment, staring at the empty space where he once was.

She touches her cheek absentmindedly.

"...What the hell was that?" she mutters to herself, completely bewildered.

----

Not far from Misorn City, a group of human adventurers crouches behind a rocky outcrop, eyes locked onto the distant city. Their captain, a rugged man with a weathered face and a trimmed beard, raises a spyglass to his eye. The enchanted lens hums faintly as he peers through it.