Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me-Chapter 166 - 168: Verid Hollow

"So you brought him here… simply because he asked?"

"No." Lathar hesitates, then chuckles bitterly. "I challenged him to a duel. If he could defeat me, I'd grant the audience."

He straightens his posture, jaw clenched.

"And I was defeated," he says bluntly. "Utterly. No excuses. No holding back on either side. He overwhelmed me.

The leader's claws curl slightly against the stone armrest.

Silence deepens.

Then—

A deep, amused growl echoes through the hall.

"I see." The leader rises slightly from his throne, his immense form casting shadows that ripple like heat haze.

He steps down from the platform with the weight of a collapsing mountain, each footfall thudding with restrained force. His aura expands, brushing against Alix like the edge of a storm.

"I am Veyrith," he says, the name vibrating the walls. "Leader of the Ember Claw group. And the only reason this city still breathes while the world crumbles."

He halts a few paces from Alix, towering above him.

"You faced one of my commanders and forced surrender. You show no fear to me. So tell me, Alix…"

His voice drops, a dangerous purr.

"Why do you want to join?"

Alix meets the molten gaze without flinching. He doesn't bow. Doesn't avert his eyes. He simply stands his ground—calm, silent, unreadable.

Inside, of course, the truth sits quietly.

This land is perfect.

A continent where monsters rule, where raw power shapes society, and where no kingdom or noble blood dictates the flow of fate.

If he can conquer this land, he might reach Tier 7 in one smooth ascent.

But not yet.

Right now, Alix has neither enough forces nor a foothold.

So he'll let the two powers—Veyrith's and Astram's—tear each other apart.

And when the ashes settle… he'll claim what's left.

But none of that shows on his face.

"I want to end Astram's tyranny," Alix says, his voice even, deliberate.

Veyrith tilts his massive head, expression unreadable beneath the shifting glow of magma-lit eyes.

"Just like everyone else," the behemoth rumbles. "Are you here for revenge?"

Alix pauses, then nods slightly. "You could say something like that."

Veyrith studies him in silence. For a long moment, nothing moves—only the low hum of energy crackling through the chamber's walls.

"People talk about vengeance," Veyrith finally says, voice low. "They burn hot and die fast. You… don't strike me as the burning type."

"I'm not," Alix replies.

Veyrith's gaze narrows, watching him like a predator. "Then what are you?"

Alix's answer is simple.

"Patient."

A deep, slow exhale rumbles from the monster-lord's chest. Not quite a laugh. Not quite approval.

"I see."

Veyrith turns and ascends the steps back to his throne. Each stride seems to shake the air, but there's a certain calm in the motion now—less testing, more calculating.

He lowers himself onto the throne with the weight of authority, claws tapping once against the stone.

"I can feel it," he says, voice echoing across the chamber. "You're strong. I'd be glad to have you on my side."

His eyes narrow slightly, voice dipping with subtle amusement. "But people like you don't take orders well. That's fine. I prefer my blades sharp and self-guided."

He shifts his gaze to Lathar.

"Lathar, as punishment for your loss, you'll serve under Alix—for a period."

Lathar's brow twitches, but he doesn't argue. He bows his head. "Understood, my lord."

Veyrith says flatly. "Alix, you'll guard the sector Lathar commands. It's a contested region. Dangerous, unstable… but important."

His gaze cuts between them.

"Is that a good arrangement for you?"

Alix doesn't answer right away. He simply lets a faint smirk tug at the corner of his lips—just enough that Veyrith might catch it, but not so bold it's disrespectful.

'So that's how he wants to play it.'

Alix knows what this is. Veyrith isn't just handing over authority—he's planting Lathar to monitor him. A watchdog dressed as a subordinate. It's clever.

But Alix doesn't care.

He's not here to hide.

"That works for me," Alix says smoothly.

Veyrith leans back, lava-lit cracks along his arms pulsing with subtle heat.

"Then it's settled. Lathar, you answer to Alix for now. Alix, you hold that zone. Keep it from falling."

He lifts one massive claw.

"And don't die. That would be disappointing."

------

Alix and Lathar step out of the obsidian tower, the thick mana-saturated air outside feeling almost light by comparison. The door behind them seals shut with a low hum.

Lathar immediately exhales hard, dragging in a fresh breath like he's been underwater for minutes.

"Whew…" He shakes his head. "You really are something else."

Alix glances at him without slowing his stride.

"Lord Veyrith just flared his full aura at you, and you took it like it was nothing," Lathar says, still half in disbelief. "Meanwhile, I was standing there feeling like I was about to sink into the floor."

Alix shrugs. "Then you need to train your mental fortitude."

Lathar scoffs, smirking. "Mental fortitude doesn't mean much when it feels like the sky's about to crush you."

"Then get stronger."

"Hah," Lathar grunts. "Easier said than done."

They pass under the archway again, re-entering the layered city. The sounds of activity—distant chimes, hovering skiffs, the hum of mana rails—filter back in.

"So," Lathar says, hands slipping into his coat pockets, "want to head back to the base now? After all… you're the commander now."

Alix looks ahead calmly. "What if I said: even though I'm the commander, you keep doing what you were doing before?"

Lathar stops for a beat, blinking. Then sighs dramatically.

"And here I was, thinking I'd finally be free from all that paperwork and patrol logistics."

Alix lets the smallest smile touch his lips. "You're still free."

"Oh yeah?" Lathar raises a brow. "How's that?"

"You're free to complain while doing it."

Lathar groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "Damn. This is gonna be a long few weeks."

Alix walks a few more steps, then glances sideways at Lathar.

"Is there a place here where I can buy information?"

Lathar doesn't even blink. "There is. Just follow me."

No questions. No curiosity. He simply turns and starts walking down a side path that curves along a lower-tier bridge. The wind shifts slightly—thick with the scent of burning minerals and ozone.

Alix keeps pace beside him.

"You're not going to ask what kind of information I want?"

Lathar snorts. "I've seen enough today to know asking questions around you just wastes breath."

Alix gives a faint nod, approving of the answer.

The streets get narrower as they descend. Less polished. The floating lights are dimmer here, the air heavier. Not many people pass by, and those who do keep their heads down.

"This part of the city," Lathar says quietly, "belongs to those who know how to listen… and sell what they hear."

They turn a corner, and a squat building made of blackstone and shimmering boneglass looms into view. No signs, no guards—just a single red thread tied to the doorway, swaying with unnatural stillness.

"This is it," Lathar says, then pauses. "You go in alone. Standard protocol. They don't like guests coming in pairs."

Alix steps forward, placing a hand on the door. It doesn't open at first—then a subtle click sounds, and it eases inward with a whisper.

Lathar leans back against the wall, arms crossed.

"I'll be out here when you're done. Try not to pick a fight with the walls."

Alix disappears into the shadows beyond the doorway without a word.

-----

Some time passes. The door hisses open again.

Alix steps out.

His expression hasn't changed, but there's a faint shift in his presence—something sharper. More focused. Tucked under one arm is a rolled-up parchment sealed with a rune-lock, and his other hand tucks away a thin metallic slip into his coat.

Lathar straightens from the wall. "So. Got what you wanted?"

Alix nods once. "Everything I needed. Including this." He holds up the rune-sealed map for a second. "Full topographical record of the continent. Territory divisions, mana concentrations, fault zones… even hidden routes."

Lathar whistles low. "Expensive."

Alix's tone is flat. "Worth it."

They fall into step again, heading back toward the lift line that snakes up to the main levels.

"So what now?" Lathar asks. "We heading back to base?"

Alix shakes his head. "No. I need to go somewhere first. I won't be joining you."

Lathar stops walking, blinking. "You're leaving already?"

Alix turns to face him. "Just for a while."

Lathar exhales slowly, then digs into a hidden pocket in his belt. He pulls out a small obsidian token etched with a glowing red claw mark and flicks it toward Alix, who catches it effortlessly.

"Here. That's a key. You can use any teleportation station that's under Ember Claw control."

Alix studies the token for a moment before slipping it into his coat.

"Thanks."

Lathar gives him a half-smile, almost reluctant. "Don't thank me. Just don't die wherever you're going. I don't want to have to explain that to lord Veyrith."

Alix smirks faintly. "I don't die easily."

Alix watches him go, then turns toward the nearest teleport node, the token already warming in his hand.

He has what he needs.

After some time studying the map, Alix decides to head for the teleportation station. The route is clear now.

The place he's going?

Verid Hollow.

The last known location where Gander known as The Plague was seen. A rift-scarred valley lost in obscurity, nestled between shattered cliffs and tangled ley-lines. No formal factions claim it—because none can hold it.

He mutters under his breath, more to himself than anyone listening, "So that's where you went…"

The thought lingers. 'This Astram guy's forces are quite capable, to corner Gander like this.'