Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me

"…Okay then," Alix says softly. "Give me your bow."

Velira's head jerks up. Her expression twists in confusion.

"What…?"

"I said give me your bow," Alix repeats gently.

There's no arrogance in his tone. No drama.

Just… certainty.

She hesitates. Her fingers tighten around the bow in her lap.

Then slowly—still breathing hard, still bleeding—she reaches out and hands it to him.

The moment Alix's hand touches the wood—

FWOOOOOM.

The entire arena lurches.

A massive shockwave of pressure bursts outward from Alix's body—not from his mana, but from the bow itself.

It flares to life in his grip.

The carved ancient grain pulses like it's alive, and the runes etched across it glow with a fierce, radiant silver. The faint starlight energy—previously dormant—is now roaring like wildfire.

The camera orb zooms in.

People stand up from their seats.

"What the—?!" the announcer chokes. "Th-The bow—! It's—! I-It's never reacted like that even in Velira's hands—!"

Dvrick takes a step back, involuntarily.

What is this?

Without a word, Alix raises the bow.

His expression doesn't change. Calm. Focused. Not posturing, not dramatic—just… precise.

He pulls the string.

VMM—

A slow, deep thrum vibrates through the entire arena as a flicker of fire forms between his fingers. No arrow. Just flame—dense, controlled, the shape of a projectile pulled into being by pure elemental will.

It burns quietly at first.

Then it ignites.

A crimson blaze wraps around the formed arrow, spinning tighter and tighter. It's not a skill. No chant. No flash of tiered technique. Just a basic fire-element arrow, shaped through experience—and amplified by a weapon.

The bow sings.

Then—

FWIP.

Alix releases it.

A single streak of fire tears through the air, faster than lightning—no smoke, no hiss—just heat and velocity.

Dvrick's eyes widen. His instincts scream again.

He raises his blade just in time.

CLANG—BOOM!

The fire-arrow slams into his saber.

Dvrick skids backward, boots grinding hard against stone. Sparks and embers burst around him. His blade groans under the pressure.

He clenches his jaw and digs in, muscles straining as the explosion ripples out—

And finally—finally—the arrow disperses in a flare of burning air.

The crowd gasps.

Silence falls.

Dvrick's arms are shaking.

He pants once—twice—eyes locked on Alix. His sleeves are scorched, his gauntlet cracked.

He knows that was just a normal shot.

"…That wasn't a skill," he mutters, voice low.

Velira stares from behind Alix, lips parted in disbelief.

She can barely speak. "That was just… a basic arrow?"

Alix lowers the bow slowly. "Yeah," he says mildly.

The announcer's voice returns, almost dazed. "L-Ladies and gentlemen… that was a basic shot. And yet Dvrick Nighthorn—one of the strongest heirs of the Nighthorn Clan—was forced to block it with both hands!"

The camera orb zooms in on Dvrick's face. Sweat beads on his brow.

The announcer's voice shakes. "He barely stopped it."

Alix moves again.

No flourish. No signal.

He pulls another arrow—this one brighter, hotter. The air around the bow distorts from the heat alone. A shimmer of warping light coils around his arms as fire gathers once more, raw and unscripted.

FWIP.

Another shot. Faster.

Dvrick doesn't block this time—he sidesteps, darkness folding around his legs as he dashes left. The arrow explodes behind him, searing across the stone and gouging a molten trench in the platform.

"He's fast."

Dvrick swings his blade in a blur. "Tier 5: Shade Crash!"

A wave of condensed dark mana bursts from his strike, ripping across the battlefield toward Alix.

Alix doesn't flinch.

He raises the bow, pivots—thwip.

Fire arrow meets dark wave—BOOM!

An explosion splits the air between them, shockwaves flattening the smoke.

Through the haze, Alix is already drawing again.

Another.

And another.

Thwip—thwip—thwip—thwip!

Four arrows fly in rapid succession, fire screaming in the air. Dvrick's eyes widen—he's fast. Too fast for someone supposedly Tier 4.

He blocks one.

Sidesteps the second.

The third grazes his shoulder—burns through cloth and leaves a smoldering trail.

The fourth—

CRACK!

—slams into his blade, and this time, the impact drives him backward.

Dvrick's boots dig trenches into the stone. "Tch—!" he grits out.

The crowd is roaring now. On their feet.

"IS THAT STILL A TIER 4?!" someone screams.

Another voice: "HE'S MOVING LIKE A PEAK TIER 5!"

Dvrick growls, black veins crawling along his right arm as he gathers mana.

"I don't know how you're drawing out the bow's full power… but I won't lose like this!"

He plants his foot, raises his blade.

"Tier 5: Void Pulse Slash!"

The ground ruptures as Dvrick vanishes in a shadow blink. He appears mid-air—blade descending, charged with pulsing dark energy.

Alix watches him come.

And fires upward.

The arrow hits the rising blade mid-swing—

KRAKOOM!

Fire and void detonate together in mid-air, blasting Dvrick off trajectory. He lands hard, knees bent, one hand skidding along the stone to recover balance.

Alix is already pulling the next shot.

No hesitation. No words.

His fingers draw the string back slowly, fire swirling into another arrow—tighter, hotter, deadlier.

Dvrick's eyes lock on him.

He knows he won't dodge this one.

The last clash cracked his ribs. His arms are numb. He's fast—yes. Strong—yes. But he's still have a human body.

And the boy in front of him?

Right now, he's fighting with the firepower of a Quasi-Tier 6.

He's not a Tier 4 anymore.

FWIP.

The arrow screams forward.

Dvrick barely moves.

BOOM!

It hits him square in the chest.

A massive explosion erupts—flames blooming outward in a sunburst, tearing apart stone and shadow alike. The platform shakes under the force. Smoke floods the air.

For a breathless second, there's nothing but fire and ash.

Then—shhhhnk!—a ripple of golden light flashes at the center of the blast.

A translucent dome appears—fractured, humming, cracking—but still holding.

A protective barrier.

The crowd gasps.

From the noble stands, gasps turn to murmurs of relief and awe.

"Oh—! The imperial's—!"

"It activated…!"

"That shot would've killed him!"

The announcer's voice chimes in again, stunned and breathless:

"W-We just witnessed it, ladies and gentlemen! The imperial arena's Crown Safeguard Protocol has activated! That barrier only responds when a participant's life is in imminent danger!"

The camera orbs zoom in on the smoking zone.

As the smoke clears, Dvrick is revealed—still standing, but barely.

His armor is scorched and cracked down the middle. His chestplate glows faint gold where the barrier caught the worst of the hit. His knees buckle. One eye is shut. Blood trickles down the side of his mouth.

And his face?

Pure disbelief.

He coughs once, ragged.

Then glares at Alix.

The announcer finally speaks.

"...A-Amazing. I… I don't believe it…" His voice trembles before catching fire with emotion.

"AND THAT'S IT!!"

A thunderous cheer rises behind his words.

"We have a winner for this round, ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer roars, voice cracking with energy. "Another miracle from the Ashedge Clan—another unknown has just shaken the entire tournament!!"

The crowd erupts.

Chants. Screams. Shouted names—Alix's, Velira's. The stands come alive like a living storm.

The projection orb shifts to center on Alix—dust-streaked, calm, still holding the glowing bow. His cloak flutters in the heatwaves rising from the scorched platform. Behind him, Velira clutches her chest in disbelief.

---

Hours later…

The light in the infirmary room is soft, golden—sunset filters through the high, enchanted windows. The air smells faintly of healing salve and burned silk. Quiet.

Velira stirs first.

Her eyes flutter open. The ceiling above is unfamiliar. Smooth white stone. Clean lines. She recognizes it—imperial treatment ward. High-tier recovery mages must've worked on them already.

She groans softly and pushes herself up. Her bandages are gone. No pain. Just an echo of fatigue.

To her right, Gresren jerks awake with a loud snort. "Wh-What? Did we win?"

"Gresren!" Velira snaps, already alert. "Yes! Yes—we won, but—listen—Alix—he—"

Across the room, Solven groans, rubbing his temple. "Ugh. My head feels like It's going to explode…"

She doesn't wait for their full attention. She leans forward, her voice urgent, fast.

"You two didn't see it. You were both out. But… Alix—he took my bow. And he—he used it. Not just used it. He used all the power of my bow."

Gresren blinks at her, still half-dazed. Then he squints.

"…You're saying a Tier 4 used the full power of a Quasi Tier 6 weapon?"

Velira nods quickly. "I saw it with my own eyes."

Solven stares. "Velira, no offense, but that's impossible."