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Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me-Chapter 161 - 163: Ember Claw Group
Alix wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, stands up slowly, and walks toward their table. The group goes quiet as he approaches, their gazes sharpening. Without a word, Alix pulls a gleaming gold coin from his pouch and sets it lightly on their table.
"Gentlemen," Alix says smoothly, his voice calm and clear. "Would you mind telling me more about this Lord Astram?"
The gold coin spins slightly before settling. A few of the monsters glance at each other, clearly tempted. But at the same time, they look confused—almost suspicious.
The lion-headed beastman squints at him. "You serious?" he says. "You don't know about Lord Astram?"
Another, a bear-like brute, leans forward, frowning. "Where the hell are you from, stranger?"
Alix offers a faint, easy smile. "Not from around here. Came from the other continent. I don't know much about this land yet."
There's a beat of silence. Then the bat-winged woman laughs softly, a little bitter.
"Figures," she says, shaking her head. "Only someone from outside wouldn't know. Most folks here wouldn't even dare say his name so casual."
The lizard-man snorts, picking up the gold coin and tossing it once in his hand before tucking it into his belt. "You shouldn't have come here, outsider," he says grimly. "This continent's not like the ones across the sea. Used to be peaceful… but now?"
He leans back, his tail flicking agitatedly.
"Now it's chaos. Been like this for years. There's a group—some call 'em the 'Ember Claw'—they've been fighting against Lord Astram's rule. Little skirmishes, assassinations, attacks on supply routes. Real thorn in his side."
"But," the lion-headed man cuts in, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, "that ain't the scary part."
Alix raises an eyebrow. "Go on."
The bat-winged woman glances around quickly, making sure no guild officials are eavesdropping, then leans in.
"A week ago, someone new showed up," she says. "Not part of the Rebels. Not part of any known group. Just… appeared. Started wrecking Astram's forces like they were nothing. Hit three forts in a week. Killed a general in single combat. Whole damn continent's talking about it."
The bear-like one growls low in his throat. "And Astram? He ain't used to being challenged. That lord... he's ruled here with iron claws for damn near fifty years. Ain't nobody ever dared stand against him and lived long enough to brag."
Alix leans slightly closer, his voice low and thoughtful. "What do they call this new person?"
The monsters look at each other again, hesitating. Then the lizard-man shrugs.
"Don't got a real name. Some call him 'The Ghost.' Others say 'The Plaque.' Depends who you ask. Moves too fast. Hits too hard. No one's even gotten a clear look at him yet."
"And you think..." Alix murmurs, "this Ghost is strong enough to beat Astram?"
The lion-headed man lets out a rough chuckle. "Maybe. Or maybe he'll just piss Astram off enough to tear half the continent apart hunting him down."
"One thing's for sure," the bear-man rumbles. "Big changes are coming. Blood's gonna flow either way."
Alix sits back slightly, taking it all in. A small, almost imperceptible smile plays at the corner of his mouth.
"Interesting," he says softly.
The bat-winged woman eyes him curiously. "You planning to stick around, outsider?"
Alix stands, pulling his cloak tighter around him. His shadow falls across their table like a dark wing.
"For a while," he says simply.
And without another word, he turns and walks back to his seat.
Alix sits down again, his hand idly stirring the untouched mug of dark liquor in front of him. His eyes narrow slightly in thought.
I'm a hundred percent sure the "plaque" they're talking about is Gander, he thinks. His fingers tap lightly on the wooden table, a steady rhythm.
Lowly, under his breath, he mutters, "This is interesting... Gander arrived a week earlier than me."
He leans back in his chair, staring up at the rough wooden beams overhead. We both went through that portal at the same time, he muses. But... it wasn't exactly in good condition after all. Must've thrown him out earlier.
The corner of his mouth tightens. Gander's reckless, but he's not stupid. If he's causing that much trouble already, he's got a plan...
Alix exhales slowly. First things first.
He needs to go to the city where this Astram lives.
He glances over at the group he spoke to earlier. They're back to drinking and whispering among themselves, occasionally shooting glances toward the job board.
Alix pushes himself up and walks back toward them, keeping his approach casual.
The lion-headed man notices him first, giving a wary grunt. "Need somethin' else, outsider?"
"Yeah," Alix says, voice calm. "I need directions. Where's the city where Lord Astram lives?"
The group exchanges looks again. This time, there's a note of caution in their eyes.
"You serious?" the bat-winged woman says. "You really planning on going there?"
Alix simply nods.
The lizard-man huffs a sharp breath, scratching the back of his scaly neck. "You're crazy. But..." He grabs a scrap of parchment from the table, dips a claw into an inkpot, and quickly sketches a rough map.
"Follow the main road east for about four days. You'll hit a fork near an old broken statue. Take the north path. It'll lead you through Blackthorn Pass. Dangerous, though. Bandits, monsters, worse."
He taps the map. "Keep going until you see the white cliffs. Astram's capital sits right against 'em. Big city. You can't miss it. Name's Velzar."
Alix takes the parchment and folds it neatly, slipping it into his cloak.
"Thanks," he says, giving a slight nod.
"Don't thank us," the bear-like brute mutters. "If you're going there... better pray you don't run into Astram's enforcers."
Alix's lips curve into a faint, almost amused smile. "I'll manage."
Without wasting another second, he turns and heads for the door.
The guild hall's noise fades behind him as he steps out into the cool evening air.
The sky is bruised purple with the coming night.
Alix pulls his cloak tighter, feeling the weight of the parchment against his chest, and sets off eastward. His footsteps steady. Unhurried.
Two days pass in a blur of sky and clouds. Alix flies high and fast, not bothering with the roads the lizard-man marked for him. Blackthorn Pass, bandits, monsters — he's not interested in wasting time. Every now and then he spots something moving below, skirmishes on dusty trails, columns of soldiers marching — but none of it matters. His goal lies straight ahead.
By the time he reaches the white cliffs, the sun is dipping low, bathing the horizon in molten gold. And there it is. Velzar.
Alix hovers for a moment, taking it in.
Massive black walls ring the city, thick enough that siege weapons would barely scratch them. Spires of dark stone and gleaming metal pierce the sky like jagged teeth. Airships drift lazily around the highest towers, guarded by flying beasts he doesn't immediately recognize. Even from here, the city feels... heavy.
He lowers himself toward a side gate, avoiding the main entrance. After a little fast-talking and flashing an adventurer's badge, he's let through without too much trouble.
Inside, the difference hits him immediately.
The density... Alix thinks, eyes scanning the crowded streets.
Everywhere he looks, powerful monsters move through the city like it's normal. Tier 4 monsters — things that would've been a major threat back on the three kingdoms continent — are as common here as cabbage sellers in a market. Tier 5s, too, just walking around, fully armored or wrapped in thick enchanted cloaks.
He steps aside as a group of armored enforcers march past — all of them Tier 4 at least and one tier 5 leading them— each carrying black halberds engraved with a burning sun motif.
One of them, a hulking boar-headed warrior, catches Alix watching and grunts, "Move along. Don't gawk unless you want trouble."
The enforcer snorts and keeps moving, the squad vanishing down a side alley like a metal storm.
Alix slips into the crowd, keeping his steps light, his presence low.
Gander probably isn't in this city, he thinks, slipping past a fruit cart without so much as a glance. If he was nearby, that item I have would've picked up his signal by now.
He taps the small silver badge tucked safely under his cloak. Silent. No pulse, no glow. Nothing.
Means he's either too far... or underground enough to hide even from this.
Alix exhales through his nose and heads toward the biggest building he can see aside from the central tower — a sprawling stone structure marked with the familiar crossed-sword-and-scroll insignia: the Adventurers' Guild.
The inside is as chaotic as he expects.
A wide, open hall filled with roaring fires, dozens of wooden tables, and adventurers of every monstrous shape and size. Huge notice boards line the walls, plastered thick with missions and bounty postings. Some are stained with old blood. No one seems to care.
Alix moves toward one of the mission boards.
His eyes scan quickly.
Hunt down a group of rebels spotted near the river... Escort a supply convoy through Blackthorn Pass... Guard a noble's estate from rebel sympathizers...
Most of the missions seem focused on a single enemy: the rebels.
And then he sees it.
A new notice, still crisp compared to the older, weathered postings:
[URGENT MISSION — REBEL STRONGHOLD LOCATED
Group identified as the Ember Claw.
New n𝙤vel chapters are published on freeweɓnøvel.com.
Destroy hideout located in the Ashen Woods.
High reward. Bonus for confirmed rebel commander kills.
Applicants must be Tier 4 or higher.
Contact Officer Marn at the mission desk.]