Intergalactic conquest with an AI

We'll need to hold out for a while," Lilla continued. "Since we haven't heard anything from Cleo yet, let's switch to a defensive stance. My fleet is built tough, and while it may not look like it, it can take a beating. So we'll take the front line and act as the shield."

Ys blinked, sitting up a bit as she listened with interest.

"You, Ys," Lilla added, turning to her with a serious expression.

"your ships are fast and can make almost instant warp jumps, right? So I want you to focus on the enemy's larger ships. Hit them fast, hit them hard, and disappear before they can respond. Classic guerrilla tactics. Does that sound good to you?"

Even though Lilla had already planned everything out in her mind, she still looked at Ys with genuine respect in her eyes.

After all, Ys had lived much longer than she had, and she had seen more battles, fought more enemies, and carried wisdom that only came with time. It would've been foolish not to at least ask for her thoughts.

Ys tilted her head and smiled, a glint of mischief and confidence dancing in her eyes. "Ooh～ a serious plan from the serious Lilla～. I like it. Sounds fun. Let's poke some big, scary ships and run away before they can scream."

Her grin widened.

"I'll make sure they regret ever throwing that welcome party.～"

With everything that had happened so far, the attacking fleet no longer looked like the dominating force it had appeared to be just minutes ago.

The confidence that once surrounded them had faded. Now, their formation looked more like a standard raid fleet from Nexum Dynamics nothing too special, just functional and solid.

The shift in posture and strength made it almost certain that somewhere among the enemy was a Tier 5 powerhouse. That presence alone changed everything.

"Oh my, it seems our dear guests have taken on a more defensive stance," the enemy fleet's captain said with a wide grin.

His voice was calm, amused, and almost theatrical. "Looks like we scared the living daylights out of them. Good. Now then, let's not be rude. They've invited us to dance… so let's begin the masquerade with a few little gifts."

With a dramatic flourish, the captain reached to his side and pulled out a medium-sized silver stick, shaped like a conductor's baton. Holding it in one hand, he began to move it with graceful precision, just like a master conductor guiding a grand orchestra.

At that exact moment, as if following his rhythm, his fleet opened fire.

Long-range cannons boomed in synchronized volleys, firing bright lances of plasma and energy across the dark void. Then, with a flick of the baton, another wave followed... this time, sleek guided missiles that streaked toward their targets in fiery arcs.

As he moved his hand faster, the entire fleet began to push forward, advancing slowly but steadily toward the human-led alliance.

On the human side, the destroyers took the brunt of the attack.

Their thick, hulking frames and heavy armor absorbed most of the hits, rocking under the pressure but holding strong. As the ship systems rebooted, the defensive shields flickered back to life.

However, they didn't last long and were destroyed again in seconds under the intensity of the barrage. Still, even these fragile shields served their purpose. They bought just enough time for the hulls to hold firm without taking critical damage.

"Now it's our turn! All ships, return fire!" Lilla shouted, her voice echoing through the command bridge with determination.

One by one, the human destroyers roared to life, their cannons launching explosive shells that lit up the battlefield. Each shot exploded against the advancing fleet's energy barriers, shaking them with force and fire. The void between both fleets was now a storm of light and destruction.

"Captain! We're just 10 kilometers away from their front line!" an officer reported, urgency in his voice.

A wicked smile crept across the enemy captain's face. "Ah, excellent. Now it's time to send flowers to our dance partner," he said while twirling his baton playfully.

"Launch the fighters. Ready the bombers. After all, what's better than a hidden gift... inside another gift?" His tone was joyful, like someone playing a game rather than leading a war. But behind that voice was strategy, power, and deadly intent.

As his baton danced once more, hangar bays opened across his fleet. Dozens... then hundreds of thousands of fighter crafts soared out, followed closely by heavily armed bombers gliding like shadows. The masquerade had truly begun.

"Little Lilla," Ys said with a mischievous glint in her eye, "it seems the one leading the enemy fleet is just too much for you to handle. So, I'll be taking command from now on～; don't even think about arguing. I won't accept a no."

Her tone was light and playful, but there was a sharp edge underneath. Ys had planned to sit back, relax, and let Lilla handle everything while she enjoyed the show.

But after watching the enemy fleet's commander... his precision, his presence, his dangerous elegance... she knew this was no ordinary battle. This was the kind of fight that could shift the tides of war. And that meant she couldn't afford to stay idle.

Lilla sighed softly, her shoulders dropping just a little. She hated to admit it, but Ys was right. This enemy leader was operating on another level. Her own strategies had held up so far, but if she kept going alone, things would spiral out of control fast.

And more importantly, this wasn't just about her pride, since hundreds of thousands of lives were counting on her. She had to swallow her ego.

"Understood…" she replied quietly, her hand rising to her chest. She pressed her fingers together in a symbol of prayer. "May the White Goddess be with you, Ys…"

Ys gave her a small smirk and tilted her head.

A soft humming sound echoed around her as a radiant crown made of emerald-like energy shimmered into existence above her head. It glowed brighter with each pulse of power.

In that moment, all the ships surrounding her shifted, responding, realigning, until every Khryssari vessel in her fleet fell under her direct command. The battlefield changed in an instant.

"Mmmm～" Ys purred, eyes glowing with dangerous excitement, "I really love this feeling. Everyone, everything, under my control～ It's delicious."

Her grin widened into something feral, almost unhinged, but behind that madness lay unmatched intelligence and deadly grace.

"Well then… let's harvest these lovely resources that came right to our doorstep, my little child!" she declared.

At her words, the massive Khryssari carriers opened their gates, releasing a swarm of flying Khryssari, biological terrors born for aerial combat. The sky around them filled with screeches and flashes as they launched themselves toward the enemy's fighters with terrifying speed.

"Lilla, my dear," Ys said over the comms in a sweet, sing-song voice, "I'll use my children to hold them off from long range. You send your fighters in to guard the fleet. I can see some bombers hidden in their formation～ and it would be such a shame if they reached us, wouldn't it?"

Lilla nodded, already issuing orders.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the aerial chaos, Ys focused her mind. Her presence reached into the swarm, seizing control of one of the elite Skydancers mid-flight.

The moment she took command, its body surged with raw energy, empowered by Ys's overwhelming combat power. With unnatural speed and precision, it tore through the enemy's formation, disrupting their tight maneuvers and forcing them into disarray.

But the Skydancer didn't last long. A burst of enemy fire clipped its wings and sent it crashing down in a spiral of blood and fire.

Unbothered, Ys simply slipped her mind into another unit nearby. The process repeated. Each time, the organism she controlled became faster, stronger, and more unpredictable. Wherever she moved, chaos followed.

This was the terrifying truth behind the Khryssari Queens and Princesses. When they took direct control, they could amplify any unit's abilities several times over. This was what made them nearly impossible to defeat in open war.

"What are those monsters?!"

"I can't shake them off! They're right on my tail! someone, help—!"

"Command, the squad leader is down! I repeat, the leader is down!"

"This is bomber squad 45th… The ship's been compromised! The enemy is tearing through the hull! I repeat, we're breaking apart!"

The desperate voices of pilots and bomber crews filled the comms in chaotic bursts. Static, screams, and cut-off cries mixed into a storm of noise that crackled through the control deck.

Standing in the middle of it all, the Musician Captain kept his eyes gently closed, holding his baton delicately between his fingers. His face, once calm and amused, was now tightened in silent irritation.

Not because of fear or because of the losses... no, it was something else.

The melody… was ruined.

The beautiful rhythm he had created, his graceful dance across the battlefield, was now a mess. The screams and panic shattered the harmony he had been conducting like a grand orchestra. And that, to him, was unforgivable.

He opened his eyes slowly, the gleam in them no longer soft. "It seems," he said in a cold, poetic voice, "that I've changed dance partners… without even noticing."

He clicked his tongue and spun the baton in his fingers. "Such rudeness. So uncultured. And when one is shown such bad manners… punishment is only fair."

He turned to his officers. "Prepare the frigates warp devices. We're going all in. Let's show them what real rhythm feels like."

Around him, officers stiffened, then nodded in unison, rushing to carry out his orders. Lights flickered across the command bridge as systems prepared for rapid deployment. The fleet began to hum not just with energy but with anticipation.

This wasn't just a counterattack. This was a performance!!.