Intergalactic conquest with an AI

This power… was not something a Tier 5 could wield. Let alone someone below that. Yet somehow, impossibly, Lilla was doing it.

Then, with a sudden burst of pressure, space itself cracked on either side of her with two small rifts tearing open with a sound like shattering glass.

From within those fractures, massive silver hands emerged. Thick, plated fingers grasped at the edges of reality and pulled, widening the rifts just enough to allow their forms to squeeze through.

Two towering warriors stepped into the world, clad in ornate silver armor that radiated divine light. Their horns curled like crowns, and silver roses were carved into every inch of their armor.

Massive and powerful, they were minotaurs, otherworldly beings summoned from the realm of the Goddess herself, Tier 4 Middle-Class War Spirits of the Lady in White.

"Go..." Lilla whispered, her voice barely audible, her body swaying from the strain. Her face had gone pale, her energy nearly depleted.

The warriors let out thunderous, echoing roars that shook the walls, then charged forward with seismic force, each step leaving glowing prints in the ground. They charged toward the breach with silver warhammers in hand, smashing aside anything in their path.

With the summoning of the goddess warriors, the tide of war had finally begun to shift. Nexum Dynamic's reinforcements that were once a relentless tide pouring in from the four directions had been stalled, corralled, and violently repelled.

Cleo's command had proven absolute with strategic bombing runs that decimated enemy lines, striking with such precision that the Nexum offensive dissolved into chaos.

Even the front led by the young AI, which had teetered dangerously close to collapse, was stabilized under a barrage of heavy ordnance. The enemy simply couldn't compete with the overwhelming coordination Cleo's network provided.

And now, with the musician general's fleet under her control as well, the entire battle had tipped decisively in favor of the Allied forces.

Inside the fortress city, time ticked on.

Several hours had passed since the retreat. The defensive forces, now shielded beneath the great energy barrier, were regrouping. The worst of the slaughter had ended for now.

In a tall tower at the heart of the city, the old governor sat alone in his office. His shoulders were heavy with age and fatigue, his body slouched back in a weathered chair.

Papers and data-slates cluttered his desk, but he paid them no mind. His hands rested calmly on the wood surface, fingers twitching occasionally, betraying the tension he refused to show on his face.

Before him stood an empty chair... he wasn't looking at it, but he was waiting.

A soft, musical hum filled the air, no louder than a whisper and reality itself shimmered. Then, in a gentle burst of golden light, she appeared.

"Well," she said, her tone as composed as ever, though the gleam in her golden eyes betrayed amusement, "we meet again, Governor."

The old man chuckled softly; the sound was more like a tired wheeze than actual laughter.

"Hohoho… indeed we do. A shame it couldn't be under more pleasant circumstances." He raised a wrinkled hand and gestured toward the empty chair across from him. "Please. Forgive my lack of formality. Would you care for a seat?"

Cleo tilted her head, her eyes scanning the room with mild curiosity. She looked at the chair for a long moment, as if debating whether to humor the gesture. Finally, with the smoothness of a queen descending onto her throne, she sat down.

"Very well," she said, her voice cool and composed as ever. "You've been waiting for me. I assume that means you have something to say."

She stared at him, her golden irises glowing faintly like twin suns, watching, calculating.

The governor exhaled a long, heavy breath before speaking.

"There's no point in pretending anymore," he began, folding his hands together on the desk. "I've seen the battle reports. I've seen the feed from the outer districts. There's not even the slightest chance of us winning this war."

His gaze didn't falter. His tone didn't shake.

"And yet," he continued, "you haven't bombarded us into dust. Not with that glorious, impossible fleet of yours. You've restrained yourself. That tells me something."

He leaned forward while narrowing his eyes.

"You want something."

A heavy silence filled the room.

The governor didn't blink while meeting Cleo's eyes.

"It is as you said," Cleo replied, her voice smooth as polished steel. "What I want is for you to surrender, unconditionally, of course."

She leaned back slightly in her chair while her golden eyes glowed brighter.

"Since you refused my offer the first time… all your followers and yourself will be executed. Publicly."

The words hit the old governor like a slab of ice to the chest. For a long moment, he said nothing. The silence thickened between them.

Then, slowly, he chuckled.

"Hohoho... I see. Ruthless and efficient... as expected of a conqueror."

His hands trembled slightly, but he clasped them tight to stop the shaking.

"But what if," he said quietly, "I had another offer to make?"

Cleo tilted her head. Her gaze sharpened.

"Oh?" she said. "Then let's hear it."

He took a breath, long and measured.

"Do you know the laws of the old empire?" he asked, his tone being formal now. "Specifically the law that grants nobles the right to propose a duel to avoid pointless slaughter?"

Cleo's expression didn't change, but her eyes narrowed slightly.

"A duel," she said, as if tasting the word. "You're invoking an imperial tradition?"

"Indeed," the old man replied while straightening his back. "I may not look like it, but I am a noble. Last of House Carvallos, descendant of the founding houses of this colony. I challenge you to a duel to end this bloodshed."

He paused while letting the weight of his words settle.

"If I win," he continued, "you will withdraw your army and never return. But if you win... this planet, and all it holds, will belong to you...."

He watched her carefully, but her expression remained unreadable.

"...But?" Cleo finally asked, sensing the unspoken condition.

"But," he said, "if you win, I want your word, as a princess of the Kaelzar Empire... that you will spare the civilians. No retribution. No purging. You'll treat my soldiers as your own. They were only following orders."

Cleo met his gaze. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Gone was the haughty pride. Gone was the tired smirk. What she saw in the old man's eyes now was something different... unyielding will. The resolve of a man who knew he would die but refused to let others die with him.

There was silence again. Then Cleo rose.

"Very well."

Her voice echoed in the room, firm and absolute.

"The duel will take place in three days in these coordinates."

The governor's arm device beeped to life, displaying a location deep in the ruins outside the capital walls, a good neutral ground.

"The duel will be public. All sides may witness the outcome. Win or lose…" she placed a hand over her chest, "...as a Princess of the Kaelzar Empire, I will honor the terms."

The old governor let out a slow breath, his posture finally relaxing. A flicker of relief passed through his weathered face.

Before he could speak, Cleo's form flickered with light lines of luminous circuitry racing across her body as she dissolved into shimmering data.

She was gone.

The governor stared at the empty space where she'd been standing a few seconds ago.

"...Three days," he whispered. "Just three more days."

While everything on Xylos was moving toward its climax, millions of light-years away, another battle had already ended.

On the blood-red skies of the Blood Clan's homeworld, silence had taken hold. The invasion of the Lady in White's army had lasted less than three hours.

Once proud and fearsome, the Blood Clan had become a shadow of itself. Their stellar energy was gone, their ancient powerhouses had crumbled into dust, and what remained were pitiful battle slaves barely above Tier 2, utterly helpless against the storm that descended on them.

The Lady in White's forces were radiant, divine, and merciless; they swept through the underground cities. Tier 5 and Tier 6 warriors moved like reapers of fate, and in the face of their divine judgment, there was no resistance.

Now, her soldiers patrolled the crimson-lit corridors, their silver armor gleaming in the dark. And somewhere deep within the conquered underground city, Rex finally stirred.

"Mmm... Where am I...? Why is it... so soft...?"

He blinked slowly, his vision swimming back into focus. He felt warmth beneath him. A soft blanket over him. A gentle scent he hadn't smelled before.

Then his eyes widened and he shot up.

"The hell?! What are you doing here?! Did I finally die, or did you drag my soul out again?!"

His voice cracked slightly as he instinctively took a defensive stance, one hand bracing his weight, the other reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. There was a flicker of panic in his golden eyes, the kind of reaction only one person could provoke.

Across from him, seated with perfect poise, was she.

The Lady in White.

She rested her chin delicately on her hand, her long silver hair cascading around her like silk.

"Oh my... Is that how you greet your mother now?" she said while pouting theatrically. "After I went through all the trouble to come all the way here from my place? I didn't even tell your aunt, you know? She's going to scold me again."

Rex's face twitched. He quickly looked around to get his bearings.

There Zynaria was sleeping against the wall, her body covered in light bandages, her breathing calm. Close by, 14th and 24th knelt protectively beside her with their eyes closed in a meditative state but alert beneath the surface.

His gaze softened.

"What... happened here?" Rex asked quietly, more to himself than anyone else.