Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me Chapter 344 - 343: Plison City

Branches sway. Small animals bolt from bushes. The air itself feels heavy—as if the land knows a calamity is marching straight through it.

Alix’s forces cut through the forest like a living river of steel, claws, and monstrous muscle. The sound of synchronized marching, the grind of armor, and the occasional beastly roar echo for kiloters.

Alix sits atop the beastbone throne as the Minotaur carriers advance steadily. The air hums with anticipation, the scent of mana thick in the wind.

They are now halfway to the Baron’s devastated territory when a sudden ripple of mana streaks through the sky.

Shff—

A blur drops from the treetops and lands gracefully beside the platform.

Erel’na straightens, four chitinous arms spread elegantly, her lower arachnid limbs barely making a sound as she bows her head.

"My Lord," she says, her voice smooth and cold, "I have returned."

Alix said. "You took your ti."

Erel’na smiles faintly. "I had to... collect sothing."

She raises all four arms.

Dangling from each hand, by the back of their armor, like misbehaving puppies, are four humans. Their faces are pale, their limbs bound in thick, silk-like threads from Erel’na’s abdon.

They look utterly terrified.

One man tries to speak.

"W-Wait! We— we’re just—!"

Erel’na flicks a finger. A thread tightens around his mouth.

"Silence," she says, tone as soft as a whisper but sharp enough to cut stone.

Alix leans forward slightly. "Scouts?"

"Yes," Erel’na replies. "They were hidden with invisibility spells. Watching our movent from atop the ridge."

Ruk stomps forward, nostrils flaring. "Hah! Humans spying again! Let crush—"

Alix raises a hand without looking at him. Ruk shuts up instantly.

Alix’s eyes shift to the objects hanging from the belts of the captured humans—small, rune-etched crystals with tal fras.

A communication device.

Identical to the one used by the human city lord of Nam city.

He reaches out, taking one from Erel’na’s hand. The mont he touches it, the runes pulse faintly, like it recently sent a ssage.

"Oh?" Alix murmurs. "So they already contacted their chain of command."

He turns the device over in his palm, examining the engravings.

"They know we’re coming."

Alix’s fingers tighten around the communication device, the faint mana pulsing beneath the tal fra confirming everything he already suspects.

He looks toward Erel’na.

"Get as much information as you can from them," he says calmly.

Erel’na’s eyes gleam with a delighted spark, one only monsters familiar with her would recognize.

"As you wish, my lord," she purrs.

The four scouts go rigid instantly.

"N-No—please—wait—!"

Erel’na doesn’t even bother looking at them. A soft tug of her threads muffles their screams as she drags all four off the trail and into the dense shadows of the forest, her lower arachnid body gliding silently across the leaves.

Ruk shudders. "I will never get used to that woman."

Varesh adjusts his glasses. "Be grateful she’s on our side."

Alix simply leans back on the throne as the massive army continues marching, trees trembling with each coordinated step.

Minutes turn into an hour.

Then—

Shff—

Erel’na erges once again from the treeline, all four prisoners now unconscious and webbed from chest to ankle, neatly stacked in one of her arms.

She bows lightly. "My Lord, I have returned with information."

Alix gestures. "Speak."

Erel’na’s voice is calm, matter-of-fact, but proud—she completed her task with precision.

"There are at least seventy thousand human soldiers gathered within the Baron’s territory. Defensive formations are active. The walls are reinforced. And..."

She pauses for one heartbeat.

"...there is also a general stationed there. A man with peak Tier 6 strength."

Ruk’s jaw drops. "Seventy. Thousand. Humans."

Varesh frowns. "A general too... so they’re taking us seriously."

He closes his hand around the communication device, thinking.

Seventy thousand trained soldiers.

A peak Tier 6 general.

Alix looks over the sea of monsters marching behind him—brutal, loyal, unyielding... but lacking the polish, the resources, the centuries of systematic discipline the human armies possess.

He exhales through his nose.

"I have to admit..." Alix says quietly. "Even with a hundred thousand monsters, we’re not equal to their soldiers in raw coordination and equipnt."

The leaders around him fall silent.

He continues.

"These monsters grew without proper training. Without resources. Without technique. While the kingdom’s armies have been fed, ard, coordinated, and molded for generations."

The four city lords march in silence for a mont, each of them listening to Alix’s words.

Even Vordon, the most advanced among all monster cities, the one whose troops are the closest thing to a trained army, lets out a low, reluctant sigh.

"...I can’t deny it," Vordon rumbles. "My forces may be disciplined, but compared to human soldiers... our equipnt is lacking."

Ruk snorts. "Hmph. Equipnt or not, we still crush them."

Alix nods. "That’s exactly why I told all of you, we are going to win, but we must not underestimate them."

The army continues to march. The ground trembles beneath nurous monstrous feet, claws, hooves, and tendrils.

Hours pass.

The trees eventually thin out, giving way to an open plain.

And there it is.

Plison City.

The lone stronghold the humans chose to defend. Its stone walls rise tall and stern, mana circles glowing faintly along its battlents. Human flags ripple under the chilling wind.

Even from this distance, they can see soldiers standing shoulder-to-shoulder on the walls, ballistas mounted, cannons prid. The air tastes of mana and steel.

Ruk cracks his knuckles. "Heh. Finally."

Alix raises his hand and the entire monster army halts instantly, like they are one single organism.

He turns to the four city lords.

"Vordon. Ruk. Erel’na. Varesh."

All four bow.

"Yes, my lord," they say in unison.

"Set up camp outside the city," Alix orders. "Your troops have marched for hours. They need rest, food, and focused mana."

Ruk grins. "So we attack tomorrow, my lord?"

"Yes." Alix replies calmly.

The wind blows, carrying tension with it.

"Let the humans stew in fear for one more night," Alix says, eyes locked on the distant walls. "They already know we’re coming. Let them watch us build camp. Let them feel the pressure."

Vordon nods. "As you command. I’ll coordinate the defensive periter."

Behind him, the vast monster army begins to spread out, forming rows of tents, barricades, fire pits, and patrol routes with surprising efficiency—monsters moving not as wild beasts, but as a unified force molded by Alix’s will.

The sun dips low.

Plison City’s soldiers stand on the walls, staring wide-eyed at the monstrous tide forming camp right in front of them.

So gulp.

But most of them relax, treating these monsters like nothing more than country bumpkins.

Jared stands atop Plison City’s tallest watchtower, arms folded behind his back, cape fluttering in the rising night wind. His enhanced Tier-6 vision pierces the dusk easily.

Across the plains, beyond the torch-lit fields, he sees them.

An ocean of monsters.

Rows upon rows building camp organized, steady, disciplined in a way he’s never seen from any monster faction before.

Jared narrows his eyes.

"They even decided to camp outside..." he mutters. "Brazen."

His gaze sharpens, focusing past the rank-and-file beasts.

There, giving orders with cold precision, in his eyes four powerful auras blaze like bonfires in the dark.

Three high-level Tier 6 monsters... and one peak Tier 6.

Jared exhales through his nose, expression grim.

"...So it really was the right call to ask the Duke for three generals."

But then—

His enhanced sight slides further back.

To the throne-like platform.

A young-looking monster, that he can’t tell what the race, sits there calmly, one leg crossed over the other.

Unmoving.

Watching.

Staring directly at him.

Jared freezes.

"...What?"

The monster’s scarlet, expressionless eyes et his.

No hostility.

No killing intent.

Just a silent, heavy pressure—an authority that rolls over him like a tidal wave.

Jared feels a cold shiver crawl down his spine.

His heart jumps once, like it wants to escape his chest.

He inhales sharply.

This feeling...

This isn’t fear of death.

This is instinct bending the knee.

He has only felt this... three tis in his life.

When he stood before the Marshalls of the kingdom—those walking calamities who could turn cities to dust.

Jared forces himself to look away, grinding his teeth.

"...Ridiculous," he mutters, trying to steady the tremor in his fingers. "There’s no way a monster like that could be born without the kingdom knowing."

Five Tier 6 monsters alone are already absurd, especially when Nam City’s reports said nothing.