Intergalactic conquest with an AI

Here, the clash was far more personal, brutal, and intense. Every blow was like thunder. Every explosion shook the ruins and scorched the red soil. This was not a battle of ships and strategy; it was a violent dance between monsters and heroes, warriors and beasts.

And things were going downhill fast for Rex and his team.

Their enemies were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless, and each wave of Blood Clan warriors brought stronger and more twisted foes into the fight. Despite all the strength Rex and his companions possessed, it was becoming harder and harder to hold their ground.

The battlefield was turning into a nightmare, one where every second was a desperate struggle just to survive

And just when things couldn't get any worse, they did.

The moment one of the Blood Clan patriarchs, an ancient and terrifying Tier 7 powerhouse, felt his descendants dying one after another like insects, he decided to enter the battlefield himself.

The air twisted and the skies darkened as his presence descended upon the war-torn ground like a curse. His very aura was enough to make even seasoned powerhouses tremble.

Thankfully, Zynaria and her massive dragon arrived just in time to intercept him. Though the patriarch was immensely powerful, the laws of the universe limited him while he was on his homeworld.

He couldn't unleash his full might, at least not yet. For the time being, Zynaria and her dragon were holding him at bay, fighting tooth and claw to keep the situation from spiraling completely out of control.

But that battle was far from over. And far from safe.

Meanwhile, back in orbit, the fleets of Lilla and Ys had finally closed in on the enemy forces. The last bit of distance vanished and with it, any chance of subtlety or strategy. All-out chaos exploded as the two sides collided.

Turrets thundered. Cannons roared. Missiles streaked across the dark void like shooting stars with deadly intentions. The battle had entered a brutal, no-holds-barred, close-quarters phase.

And up above the massive capital ships, the dogfight raged, now unfolding directly above the ships hulls.

"Saintess! Destroyer Number Four is on the brink! The hull's about to collapse! we can't hold it any longer!" shouted one of the priestesses from the communications deck.

Her voice was panicked but trained. "Also, Destroyer Two has been boarded! Enemy forces are inside; fighting has already broken out across multiple decks!"

From the reinforced window of the bridge, Lilla watched the chaos unfold. Her gray eyes remained focused, even though her heart was heavy.

"Tell Destroyer Four to retreat at once. Have them fire every last cannon at the closest enemy ship while falling back. Once they're out of immediate danger, initiate a warp jump to the fallback coordinates. As for Destroyer Two—"

She was cut off mid-command by Ys, who appeared on-screen with a faint smile that didn't quite reach her exhausted eyes.

"Don't worry about that one, Little Lilla～ I've already sent some of my children in to help. They should be boarding as we speak. Just make sure not to shoot them by accident, okay～?"

"Their brains are about the size of peanuts. If they get hurt, they'll start biting everyone in sight, friend or foe~."

Even though Ys still spoke in her usual playful tone, the signs of fatigue were showing. Her face was pale, and her glow had dimmed. She had pushed herself past her limits by controlling too many units at once. Her strength was vast, but not infinite.

Just as she had said, the interior of Destroyer Two had become a battleground. Human defenders were locked in fierce combat against enemy boarding parties.

These weren't just any invaders; they were a shock force, elite soldiers clad in advanced power armor, wielding experimental weapons that far exceeded what was usually seen in the outer systems.

"Sir Crusader!" one of the Zealots cried out, blood staining his white armor. "The enemy's too strong! The frontline Zealots are falling, and the Cultists are already gone! We can't hold them much longer; the line is about to collapse! What are your orders?"

The Crusader stood at the center of the hangar, sword drawn and armor gleaming with sacred runes. His expression didn't waver.

"I see... then we must make our stand here," he said calmly. "We will hold this ground, no matter the cost. If we fall, it will be so the next line may rise stronger."

Though a Tier 2 warrior, not quite a Paladin, the Crusader still held great strength and even greater faith.

He knew that against these foes, he might not survive. But he did not fear death. In the beliefs of the Holy Human Empire, a Crusader who died in holy battle would be reborn as a white rose in the Goddess's eternal garden.

And this faith wasn't just a comforting lie... it was real.

With no hesitation, the Crusader raised his blade high and roared, "For the Goddess! Let our deaths be the shield that protects our people!"

Just when the remaining human defenders were about to make one last desperate charge at the invading force, everything suddenly changed.

From the entrance of the hangar bay, a strange hum filled the air and then, in a flash of light, one of the Khryssari carriers appeared out of nowhere. It was like the very air had been cut open, and the ship simply stepped through.

Without wasting a second, the carrier launched several large black spheres into the hangar. Each one was covered in eerie green glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. The soldiers on both sides froze, unsure of what they were looking at.

Then the black spheres exploded.

A thick, sticky black goo burst out in all directions, coating the floor, walls, and even parts of the ceiling. The explosion wasn't just for show; something was inside.

From each sphere, five Khryssari warriors emerged, covered in organic armor that looked alive, their eyes burning with fierce determination.

Without hesitation, they raised their bioplasma cannons and opened fire on the invaders.

Green light bathed the hangar in pulses, the beams cutting through the air like knives. The effect was immediate; the invading soldiers who had just been winning a moment ago were now falling like leaves in a storm.

Their high-tech armor offered no protection against the raw biological firepower of the Khryssari.

These Khryssari warriors didn't just shoot; they charged. Roaring, they rushed forward into brutal close combat, their claws and blades ripping through their enemies like paper. The fight turned into a slaughter.

The Crusader stood in stunned silence, watching as his enemies were torn apart by this new wave of allies. These Khryssari warriors fought like monsters but monsters that were on his side.

"This..." he muttered, unable to find the words.

Moments ago, it had felt like certain death. Now, the tide had turned completely.

"What are you all doing standing around like statues?!" the Crusader shouted at the stunned Zealots behind him. "Fight! Return fire! Assist our new allies! Unless you want them to do all the work!"

His voice snapped them out of their trance, and the Zealots quickly regrouped, joining the Khryssari in pushing back the boarding force.

Meanwhile, up in orbit, aboard the enemy command ship, the mood was very different.

"Captain, we've lost contact with the boarding squad," one of the officers reported calmly.

The Musician Captain didn't seem angry. In fact, his lips curled into a delighted grin. He slowly hugged himself as if savoring the moment.

"Mmm~ It seems one of my lovely musicians has left the masquerade early. How unfortunate. I had hoped he played a little longer," he said, his voice rich with amusement. "But no matter... It was only a small party I sent. A test. I just wanted to see how sincere my dear dance partner really was."

He leaned back in his command chair, the light from the holographic screen dancing across his face like stage lights on a performer. Then he asked, lazily, "How many desserts do we still have on the table?"

"Reporting in, Captain. Ammunition stocks are at 50%. We've switched to laser-based weapons to conserve our kinetic and explosive payloads," the officer replied after glancing at his data pad.

"Ahh... that's disappointing," the Musician Captain sighed while sipping from a tall bottle of crystal-clear water. "It seems... the masquerade must come to an end. It's time to send the guests home. Have the servants prepare the carriages, yes?"

As soon as the orders were relayed, the command ship's systems came alive with new warp signatures. Across the battlefield, lights blinked and space shimmered as reinforcements began to arrive.

Dozens of new vessels emerged from warp: fighters, bomber squads, heavily armed frigates equipped with specialized anti-capital ship missiles, and even hulky destroyers armed for long-range combat.

Each ship was marked with the musician's personal crest, a silver mask over a rose of black flames.

This was the true fleet of the Musician Captain.

And just as quickly as they had arrived, the reinforcements of the Musician Captain unleashed hell.

The new ships didn't waste even a second. From the moment they dropped out of warp, they began firing with full force.

Beams of energy, swarms of missiles, and concentrated blasts lit up the dark void of space like fireworks. Their attack was precise, overwhelming, and merciless.

Within minutes, one of the human destroyers was torn apart. Its hull cracked open like a tin can, spewing fire and debris in all directions.

Not long after, one of the Khryssari carriers was struck by a storm of anti-capital ship missiles launched from the enemy frigates. The organic vessel screeched while burning and breaking apart before vanishing into a cloud of green and black wreckage.

On Lilla's bridge, alarms were blaring and the lights flashed red.